Esti frowned. “What do you mean?”
“From the way Angelidis talked about it, I’ve been assuming that was the sequence, but there’s no reason it had to be that way. All I really know is that Carl and Gus were hit the same day. I’d like to get the timing confirmed.”
“How?”
“We have a precise time for Carl in the case file. But based on what Angelidis told me, I’m not so sure about Gus. There are two sources I can think of, but it’ll depend on what kind of contacts we have—either with the county ME’s office where the Gurikos autopsy was done, or with whoever in OCTF has access to that file.”
“Let me deal with that,” said Esti. “I think I know somebody.”
“Great.” Gurney gave her an appreciative nod. “In addition to an estimated time of death, see if you can get copies of the initial photos in the autopsy sequence.”
“The shots taken before he was opened up?”
“Right—the body on the table, plus any detail shots of the head and neck.”
“You want to see exactly how he was nailed?” A quirky grin revealed more relish for this kind of thing than most women would have. Or men, for that matter.
The normally impervious Hardwick grimaced in disgust. Then he turned to Gurney. “You figure that horrible shit was some kind of message?”
“Ritualistic stuff usually is, unless it’s an intentional distraction.”
“Which do you think this was?” asked Esti.
Gurney shrugged. “I’m not sure. But the message seems clear enough.”
Hardwick looked like he was biting down on a bad tooth. “You mean like … ‘I hate you so fucking much I want to hammer spikes into your brain.’ Something like that?”
“Don’t forget the neck,” said Esti.
“Larynx,” said Gurney.
They both looked at him.
She spoke first. “What do you mean?”
“I’d be willing to bet the target of the fifth nail was Gus’s larynx.”
“Why?”
“It’s the voice organ.”
“So?”
“Eyes, ears, larynx. Sight, hearing, voice. All destroyed.”
“And this means what to you?” said Hardwick.
“I may be wrong, but what comes to mind is ‘See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.’ ”
Esti nodded. “That makes sense! But who’s the message for? The victim? Or someone else?”
“That depends on how crazy the killer is.”
“How so?”
“A psychopath who kills for an emotional release usually leaves a symbolic message that reflects the nature of his own pathology—often by mutilating some part of the victim. The message contributes to the feeling of release. It’s primarily a communication between him and his victim. Probably also a communication between him and someone in his childhood, someone involved in the root of the pathology—usually one of his parents.”
“You think that’s what the Gurikos nails-in-the-head thing was?”
Gurney shook his head. “If the Gurikos murder was connected to the two Spalter murders, mother and son, I’d say it was driven more by a practical goal than a compulsion.”
Esti looked baffled. “A practical goal?”
“It seems to me like the killer was advising someone to mind their own business, to keep quiet about something, and letting them know at the same time what would happen to them if they didn’t. The big questions are, who was the someone and what was the something.”
“You have some ideas about that?”
“Just guesses. The something may have been some fact about the first two murders.”
Hardwick joined in. “Like the identity of the shooter?”
“Or the motive,” said Gurney. “Or some incriminating detail.”
Esti leaned forward. “Who do you think was the someone who was being warned?”
“I don’t know enough about Gus’s connections to say. According to Angelidis, Gus hosted a regular Friday-night poker game. After the murder that day, the killer left Gus’s door unlocked. That could have been an oversight, or it could have been on purpose—so that someone in the poker group would find the body when they arrived for the game that evening. Maybe the ‘See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil’ message was intended for someone in the group or even for Angelidis himself. OCTF might know more about the individuals involved. They may even have had Gus’s house under surveillance.”
Esti frowned. “I’ll find out what I can from my friend, but … she might not have access to everything. I don’t want to put her in an awkward position.”
Hardwick’s jaw muscles tightened. “Be careful dealing with those task force fuckers. You think the FBI is bad, they’re nothing compared to the elite organized crime boys.” He emphasized the adjective with a comical level of contempt. But there was no humor in his eyes.
“I know what they’re like, and I know what I’m doing.” She stared challengingly at Hardwick for a moment. “Let’s go back to the beginning. How do we feel about the ‘preemptive strike’ explanation—that Carl was hit by his own intended victim?”
Hardwick shook his head. “Could be the truth, more likely it’s crap. Nice story, but consider the source. Why should we believe anything from Donny Angel?”
She looked at Gurney. “Dave?”
“I don’t think belief enters into it. What Angelidis said happened could have happened. It’s a reasonable enough scenario. In fact, we heard another story that’s consistent with it. Kay Spalter mentioned that Carl used to play poker with a guy who arranged murders for the mob.”
Hardwick waved his hand dismissively. “Doesn’t prove a damn thing. Sure as hell doesn’t prove that Carl hired Gus to have someone killed.”
Esti looked back at Gurney.
Gurney just shrugged. “Right. No proof. But still a possibility. A credible link.”
“Well,” said Esti, “if we think the Angelidis story is possible—that Carl’s target ended up being the murderer—shouldn’t we make a list of people Carl might have wanted dead?”
Hardwick uttered an incredulous little grunt.
She turned on him. “You have a better idea?”
He shrugged. “Go ahead, make a list.”
“Okay, I will.” She picked up her pen, held it over her pad. “Dave—any suggestions?”
“Jonah.”
“Carl’s brother? Why?”
“Because if Jonah were out of the way, Carl would have sole control of Spalter Realty and all its assets, which he could convert into cash to finance his political plans in a big way. Interestingly, Jonah would have the same motive to get rid of Carl—get control of Spalter Realty assets, which he could use to finance the expansion of his Cyberspace Cathedral.”
Esti raised an eyebrow. “Cyber …?”
“Long story. Bottom line, Jonah’s got a lot of ambition and could use a lot of money.”
“Okay, I’ll put his name down. Who else?”
“Alyssa.”
She blinked, seemed to have some unpleasant thoughts before making another note.
Hardwick’s lip curled. “His own daughter?”
Esti responded first. “I overheard enough of Klemper on the phone with Alyssa to get the impression that her relationship with her father … wasn’t what you’d call a normal father-daughter relationship. It sounded like Carl had forced her to have sex with him.”
“You told me that before,” said Hardwick. “I don’t like thinking about shit like that.”
The silence that followed was broken by Gurney. “Just look at it from a practical perspective. Alyssa was a longtime drug addict with no interest in recovery. Carl wanted to be governor of New York. He had a lot to lose—in the present and the future. If he did have an incestuous relationship with Alyssa, presumably going back into her childhood, that would create a major blackmail opportunity—a hard thing for a drug addict with an expensive habit to resist. Suppose that Alyssa’s demands became exorbitant. Suppose that Carl came to view her as an unbearable threat to everything he wanted. We’ve heard from a few people that he was an obsessively ambitious man and capable of anything.”