Dead Guilty (25 page)

small,
give me a call.’’ Diane fished a card out of her
purse and wrote on it. ‘‘I put my cell number on here,
and the number of Chief Garnett. He’s the detective
in charge. Call him or me if you remember anything
or need to talk.’’

Madison
took the card, turned it over and looked
at the numbers. She nodded. ‘‘I will, I promise.’’
Her
tears
had
dried
and
her
nose
had
stopped
bleeding, but Madison looked profoundly sad. Diane
wanted to say something that would help, but she felt
completely
helpless
in
the
face
of
grief.
She
should
know
a
lot
about
grief,
and
she
did,
but
she
didn’t
know how to make it go away.
‘‘Do you have someone to stay with?’’
‘‘I
think
I’ll
go
home—to
Columbus.
Jerry,
the
cameraman, will drive me. He’s been after me for a
date. I guess I’ll see what kind of stuff he’s made
of.’’

They
were almost finished with the CT scan when
she returned. The image on the monitor was of the
abdominal cavity.

‘‘We’re
thinking
he
had
a
tumor
on
his
kidney,’’
said Lynn. She pointed to the screen. ‘‘You know, if
we could just get a piece of that tissue.’’

‘‘I
can
try
again
with
the
endoscope,
now
that
I
know where to look,’’ said Korey.
‘‘We’ll
have
you
a
great
three-D
image
of
your
guy,’’ said one of the doctors. ‘‘You going to do one
of those facial reconstructions?’’
‘‘Yes,’’ said Diane. ‘‘It’ll be a lot of fun to know
what the guy looked like.’’
‘‘Well, we are happy to be of help. Interesting case.’’
Before she left, Diane thanked the hospital person
nel for their help. She thanked Lynn and asked her if
she
had
time,
if
she’d like
to
write
a
report.
Diane
had a couple of motives. One, she genuinely wanted
her
expert
input.
She
also
wanted
to
pat
down
her
ruffled feathers. As long as Lynn stayed at her job,
Diane would have to work with her. If she could build
up
some
good
interactions,
when
the
inevitable
dis
agreement came about time of death, or whatever else
that ticked off Lynn, they’d at least have established
a good rapport.
Diane went from the hospital to Kacie Beck’s apart
ment. Garnett was there, along with David and Neva.
The
body
had
been
removed.
We
probably
passed
somewhere along the way,
she thought.
Kacie had a small one-bedroom apartment close to
campus.
Diane
had
seen
it
from
the
outside,
but
hadn’t
gone
inside.
Perhaps
she
should
have.
Was
someone waiting for Kacie in the dark? The thought
sickened her.
Diane shook her thoughts and looked around the
room. Kacie’s decorating tastes included import shops.
She
had
carved
end
tables
with
a
scroll
design,
a
carved wooden elephant coffee table with a glass top,
several colorful silk throws of fuschia, lime green and
blue tossed on the chairs and sofa along with a multi
tude of ornate throw pillows. The apartment smelled
of death and incense.
Kacie had been found in her bed—strangled, beaten
and raped. This one didn’t look anything like the oth
ers. Except someone had gone through her drawers.
They
had
also
taken
her
ring
and
had
skinned
her
finger pulling it off.
Diane told Garnett about Madison Foster and re
lated the information she had gained from her.
‘‘She
was
at
the
hospital
reporting
on
your
mummy?’’ He shook his head. ‘‘It’s about time some
of the coincidences worked in our favor,’’ he said.
Diane was relieved. She feared that she was going
to
have
to
explain
to
him
just
why
she
was
inter
viewing witnesses.
‘‘So there was something the boys were into,’’ said
Garnett, almost to himself.
‘‘It appears so. Have you any leads on Mayberry?’’
‘‘None. We still don’t know if he’s dead or alive.’’
‘‘Where’s Ross Kingsley?’’
‘‘He’s in his motel room working on his profile.’’
‘‘What’s his thinking?’’
‘‘Different from mine, especially with the new infor
mation. I think our boys were into something with the
three Cobber’s Wood victims. They had a falling-out,
and
Edwards and
Mayberry hung
them.
Then Mayberry
and Edwards
had a
falling-out,
and Mayberry
killed him. I’m thinking that Edwards tied the knots
for the Cobber’s Wood victims and Mayberry tied the
knots that strung up Edwards.’’
‘‘What
about
Kacie?
Mayberry
do
her
too?’’
asked Diane.
‘‘Either that, or this really is a coincidence. She was
raped. This could be a rapist who also steals.’’
‘‘That sounds reasonable,’’ said Diane, ‘‘but there’s
one thing.’’
‘‘What’s that?’’
‘‘Who’s calling me? I spoke with Mayberry at the
Cobber’s Wood crime scene, and it wasn’t him.’’
Garnett
winced.
‘‘Maybe
that’s
someone
else
too.
You said you get lots of E-mail every time they run
that interview.’’
‘‘Yes. That’s true. I do.’’
‘‘Damn, all this is too complicated.’’ Garnett ran a
hand through his thick hair.
‘‘What’s the profiler saying?’’ Diane asked.
‘‘That the Cobber’s Wood victims were done by a
serial killer who’s probably done some people before.
We’re looking for similar killings in other states now.’’
‘‘And the other murders?’’
‘‘Separate. He said something about Cobber’s Wood
being an organized scene and Edwards’ scene being
disorganized. He
thinks Raymond Waller
was killed
for his collection. He talked to one of your curators
or
conservators,
or
whatever
you
call
them,
and
it
seems that the collection is real valuable. We ran a
check on Waller’s finances, and all his spare money
for
as
far
back
as
we
can
check
has
gone
into
the
collection.’’
‘‘That makes sense too,’’ said Diane.
But something she couldn’t put her finger on both
ered
her.
Looking
at
all
the
crime
scenes
was
like
looking at an illusion and not being able to perceive
the
alternate
point
of
view.
If
she
could
just
see
through the illusion.
‘‘You’re right,’’ she said. ‘‘This is too complicated.
Perhaps we should quit looking for a connection and
look at each scene as separate until we know better.’’
As
she
spoke,
Jin
showed
up
at
the
door.
‘‘Hey,
Boss.
I
thought
you’d
like
to
know,
I’ve
connected
two of the crime scenes.’’

Jin
gathered up his hair and doned a cap just before
he stepped into the room. He picked up a pair of latex
gloves
and
put
them
on.
‘‘I
just
finished
with
the
Crown Vic, and I tell you one thing, we can find this
guy by
looking to see
who’s walking around
with a
handheld vac. He’s cleaned that sucker up. Obviously
been watching too many crime scene shows.’’

‘‘You
said
you’ve
discovered
a
connection,’’
said
Garnett.
He
sounded
a
little
testy,
but
Jin
ignored
that.

‘‘Sure
did. You know the bloody glove print with
the tear we found at the Chris Edwards crime scene?
Well, I found that same glove print on the left front
fender and on the left front door of your car, Boss.
He’s the guy who attacked you.’’

Diane
must
have
looked
dumfounded.
Garnett
certainly
did. He
stood there
in his suit that he’d
worn
to
Raymond’s
funeral,
his
mouth
hanging
slightly open.

‘‘I
thought you’d be surprised,’’ said Jin.
‘‘Are you serious?’’ said Garnett.
‘‘As a heart attack,’’ said Jin. ‘‘It’s the same glove.

‘‘Okay,
where does that leave us?’’
‘‘The person who attacked Dr. Fallon is the same
person
who
killed
Chris
Edwards,’’ said
Jin.
‘‘He
is
also the same person who stole the Crown Victoria.’’
‘‘That means, if you’re right on the voice recogni
tion, Diane, that it was not Mayberry who killed Ed
wards. This is beginning to get as complicated as one
of those logic problems that my daughter likes to work
in her game magazines,’’ said Garnett.
‘‘I love those,’’ said Jin. ‘‘Can’t get enough of them.
I’ve
even
had
a
few
of
my
own
published
in
those
mags.’’
Garnett
looked
at
Jin
as
if
affronted
by
his
intelligence.
Jin,
obviously
enjoying
the
moment,
pressed on. ‘‘If he’s the same person who’s been call
ing you, Boss, then that makes for a very interesting
problem.’’
‘‘How’s that?’’ asked Garnett.
‘‘Because,’’ said Diane, ‘‘the person who’s been call
ing
me
said
he
was
inspired
by
the
television
interview—that
was
shown
before
Chris
Edwards
died.’’
Garnett
looked
surprised
again
and
fell
silent.
‘‘Okay,’’ he said. ‘‘He was contemplating killing some
one, picked out Edwards from the interview to kill,
and you to call and chat about it.’’
Diane was tempted to laugh, but she could see Garnett was serious.
‘‘You need to give this information to the profiler,’’
she said. ‘‘He’ll need it before he gets too far into his
analysis. And I have an idea. See if the university has
someone in the linguistics department who specializes
in recognizing accents and dialects. We have the caller
on tape. Maybe we can place where he grew up.’’
‘‘That’s an idea. What department would I call?’’
‘‘Anthropology
and
English.
They
both
teach
lin
guistics. I’ll ask my archaeologist if he knows anyone.
You
also
might
try
someone
in
speech.
Sometimes
they have someone with that skill.’’
‘‘That’s a good idea.’’
‘‘It’s about time for some of the chemical analysis
on the bones and the toxicology reports from the au
topsies
to
come
back.
That
could
give
us
a
lot
of
information.’’
‘‘We’ve finished here.’’ David and Neva came from
the bedroom, carrying an armload of evidence bags.
‘‘Find anything useful?’’ asked Garnett.
‘‘Won’t
know
until
we
get
back
to
the
lab,’’
said
David. ‘‘By the way, I’m sending you and Sheriff Braden
a
copy of
my
report
on
the
insects. Diane
was
dead-on about the time of death for Cobber’s Wood.
Twenty-one days before they were found. My insects
don’t lie.’’
Garnett nodded. ‘‘Well, Dr. Webber will be sorry
to hear that. I guess you know she pitched a fit when
you disagreed with her.’’ Apparently, Garnett didn’t
like women who pitched fits.
‘‘I got a call from her myself,’’ said Diane.
‘‘I need to go talk to Ross Kingsley,’’ said Garnett.
‘‘When you have time, come by my office. I need to
talk to you about something.’’
Diane looked at her watch. ‘‘How late will you be
there?’’
‘‘Late. Just call my cell.’’ He went out the door and
to his car.
‘‘How’d the mummy thing go?’’ asked Jin, removing
his cap and gloves outside the door with Diane, David
and Neva.
‘‘I’m going to keep the crime scene seal on,’’ said
David. ‘‘I’ll release it when the parents get to town.’’
‘‘All right,’’ said Diane. ‘‘The mummy thing went
well. Found a tumor on one of his kidneys.’’
‘‘Poor
fellow,’’
said
Jin.
‘‘Suffered
all
those
ab
scesses, a tumor, lower back pain, and the indignity
of a Victorian unwrapping party.’’
‘‘Kendel did find the amulets that were inside his
wrappings and acquired them for the museum.’’
‘‘Cool,’’ said Jin.
‘‘When I was little,’’ said Neva, ‘‘my grandma used
to have these party favors she called surprise balls. It
was a crepe paper streamer wrapped into a ball. As
she wrapped the crepe paper, she’d put little trinkets
in the wrapping, so that we’d find things as we un
wrapped the ball. It sounds like the idea came from
the Egyptians.’’
‘‘I’ve heard of those,’’ said David. ‘‘Be interesting
if the idea did come from the Egyptians—by way of
the Victorians, maybe?’’
Diane looked at her watch. ‘‘Damn, I’ve got to get
Andie’s car back to her so she can go home.’’
‘‘Need some wheels, Doc?’’ asked Jin.
‘‘I
should
have
some
coming
from
the
insurance
company. If not, I suppose I’ll be spending the night
at the museum.’’
‘‘If you need a ride, we all have cars. Doesn’t the
museum have a fleet?’’ said David.
‘‘Yes, but they are not for my personal use. Neva,
we’ll have the CT data on the mummy sometime to
morrow. I’ll show you how to use the data in the facial
reconstruction software.’’
Neva grinned broadly. ‘‘That’ll be fun. I’m looking
forward to seeing what he looked like.’’
‘‘How do you feel about doing a sculpture of him?
The museum will pay you.’’
‘‘Yes. I’d like that very much.’’
‘‘Cool,’’ said Jin. He waved and went to his car.
Diane rushed back to the museum. Andie was busy
at her desk.
‘‘I hope you didn’t think you were going to be stuck
in the museum,’’ said Diane.
‘‘I
knew
you’d
show
up
sooner
or
later.’’
Andie
grinned and grabbed her purse.
‘‘Andie,
thank
you
so
much
for
letting
me
use
your car.’’
‘‘Not a problem. Glad to do it.’’ She handed Diane
a set of keys. ‘‘Ford Explorer down in the lot. Bright
candy apple red. Can’t miss it.’’
‘‘Is this from the insurance company?’’
Andie nodded. ‘‘Nice. Only a couple of years old.
Very clean inside.’’
‘‘Thanks. I appreciate everything you do, Andie.’’
‘‘Good. I’m working on being indispensable.’’
‘‘You are. I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, did they tell
you about the mummy scan?’’
‘‘Kendel and Dr. Briggs came up and told me about
it. Also about the amulets. They said we’re going to
do a three-D reconstruction of the face?’’
‘‘Yes, Neva Hurley will be doing it.’’
‘‘This is going to be so nice. Dr. Fallon, I had this
idea.
I’ve
been
looking
at
Egyptian
stuff
and
what
their houses looked like with that adobe-looking wall
around the front yard and all, and I thought it would
be fun if we could re-create one in the museum. If we
can’t do a life-sized one, maybe a miniature city.’’
‘‘Andie, I think that’s a great idea. Tell Jonas about
it tomorrow.’’
‘‘See?
Indispensability—that’s
who
I
am.
See
you
tomorrow.’’
Diane
envied
all
her
staff
who
were
going
home.
She sat down at her desk to have a look at her mail
and remembered that she was supposed to be having
dinner with Frank tonight. She looked at her watch.
He
wouldn’t
be
getting
home
from
Atlanta
for
an
other hour. She’d have time to go see what the heck
Garnett wanted, then go to Frank’s.
She gave her mail a brief look. Most of it was things
that Andie could take care of—or already had taken
care of. She looked at her E-mail and responded to
messages from two of her curators.
Her
final
message
was
one
line,
no
signature.
I
THINK WE SHOULD MEET.
A chill ran through her. She stared at the message
for several moments and realized that she was holding
her
breath.
She
exhaled
and
started
to
type
a
re
sponse, and stopped. What would she say? What did
he want? To give up? She didn’t respond. Maybe she
and Garnett could set something up.
Right,
some inner
voice said,
put your life in the hands of the Rosewood
police. That’s a plan.
She shut down her
computer and headed out the
door. The candy apple red Ford Explorer was parked
in front of the museum. It was indeed very red. Hard
to miss. She got in and drove to the police department,
calling Garnett on the way to tell him she was coming.
She showed her identification to the policeman at
the duty desk. Of the four policemen who were there,
all of them smirked at her. Even the sergeant on duty
was trying hard to make his face an objective mask.
One of these days, she’d have to sit them down and
ask what the hell their problem was.
In
the
detective’s
squad
room
she
was
met
with
more amused stares and half heard a comment that
someone would like to be a fly on that wall. Great,
Kingsley
probably
profiled
her
out
to
be
an
axemurdering maniac. She knocked on Garnett’s door.