past two years. I want you to check them out.
I'll get right on it.
Great.
A waitress arrived, and Amanda ordered fried clams and an iced tea. Bobby asked for a BLT and coffee.
Now I have something for you, he said as soon as the waitress left. I've been trying to find similar killing grounds in the United States and abroad. I went on the Web initially and found newspaper and periodical stories about serial murders that were like our cases. The reporters who wrote the stories gave me more information about each case and the names of the detectives who worked them. Most of the cops talked to me. They' d sent their case information to the FBI's National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crimes for investigation by the Investigative Support Unit and VICAP, the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program.
The waitress brought their drinks and Bobby continued.
I know a former FBI agent who owes me a favor. He talked to some friends at the Bureau and got me more details on the domestic cases. With the international cases it was harder, but I know someone at the Interpol office in Salem. She was able to get me information on the foreign cases.
Vasquez handed Amanda a multipage document. This is my preliminary list. I've found murders that are similar to ours in Washington, Colorado, Florida, New Jersey, Canada, Belgium, Japan, Peru, and Mexico. And it turns out that there was another case right here in Oregon, he concluded, pointing to the synopsis, which explained that fourteen years ago two young women had been found buried in the forest near Ghost Lake, a ski resort in the Cascades.
Something about the entry bothered Amanda, but her cell phone rang before she could figure out what it was. She took the phone out of her purse and answered it.
Is something wrong? Vasquez asked when she hung up.
My friend at St. Francis, the one who got me the list, has been attacked. I have to go to the hospital.
Amanda rushed through Emergency until she found Tony slouched in a chair in an examining room. He had black-and-purple bruises under both eyes and a bandaged nose. There was dried blood on his shirt, which was open, revealing ribs wrapped with tape. Amanda stopped in the doorway, shocked by his appearance. Tony stood up when he saw her. The effort made him grimace. Amanda's eyes widened with concern.
How badly are you hurt?
Don't worry. Nothing's broken that can't be fixed.
What happened?
I was on my way to see a patient when I noticed a janitor named Andrew Volkov standing next to a cleaning cart. He's one of the employees on my list. Volkov saw me watching him and got flustered. I followed him into the basement, which was pretty stupid. If I had any brains, I would have realized that he was luring me downstairs. He jumped me and was beating the crap out of me when another janitor came along and scared him off.
Is Volkov Cardoni?
I couldn't honestly say. The body type is right, but I was too busy defending myself to get a good look at him.
Amanda thought for a moment. Then she took out her cell phone.
I' m going to call Sean McCarthy. He can arrest Volkov for assault and take his prints. We'll know pretty soon if he's Cardoni.
Chapter 51
It had been three days since the crime lab had matched the prints on Andrew Volkov's custodian's cart to the prints taken four years before from Vincent Cardoni's left hand. Prints found in Volkov's apartment also matched the doctor' s. A thorough search of Volkov's locker at the hospital and his apartment provided no clue to Cardoni's whereabouts.
Mike Greene was trying to distract himself while he waited for an update on the case by analyzing a chess game played between Judit Polgar and Viswanathan Anand in a recent tournament in Madrid. He was studying the pivotal position in the game when the phone rang. Greene swiveled his chair and picked up the receiver.
This is Mike Greene.
Hi, Mike. This is Roy Bishop.
Bishop was an overbearing criminal defense attorney who was strongly suspected of being a little too friendly with some of the people he represented.
What's up, Roy?
I' m calling on behalf of a client, someone I know you want to talk to. He wants to meet with you.
Who are we talking about?
Vincent Cardoni.
Greene sat up straight.
If you know where Cardoni is, you better tell me. Harboring a fugitive will get your ticket yanked.
Ease up, Mike. I've only talked to Cardoni on the phone. I have no idea where he is.
Does he want to turn himself in?
Absolutely not. He made it very clear that he won't meet with you unless he gets a guarantee in writing that he will not be arrested if he shows up and that nothing he says will be used against him.
That's impossible. The man is a mass murderer.
He says that he's not. But even if he is, from what he tells me, you don't have grounds to hold him.
Mike Greene looked pale and drawn when Alex DeVore and Sean McCarthy entered his office at ten the next morning.
Vincent Cardoni will be here in half an hour, Greene announced. He sounded exhausted.
DeVore looked stunned. McCarthy said, He's turning himself in?
Greene shook his head. He's coming here to talk. I had to guarantee that we would not take him into custody.
Are you nuts? DeVore exclaimed.
You're joking! McCarthy said simultaneously.
I was here until ten last night and I was back here at seven this morning hashing this out with Jack, Henry Buchanan and Lillian Po, Greene answered, naming the district attorney for Multnomah County, his chief criminal deputy, and the head of the appellate section. There's no way we can hold him.
He killed four people at the farmhouse, McCarthy said.
He changed his features and lied to get a job at St. Francis so he could steal the coffee mug, the scalpel and the clothes, DeVore argued. He killed all those people in Milton County.
It won't wash. Cardoni had access to the items we found at the farmhouse, but there is no way we can prove that he stole them and planted them there. There isn't a single piece of evidence connecting Cardoni to the farmhouse or any of the victims. Believe me, guys, we went round and round on this. I' m as frustrated as you are.
What about Milton County? He's still under indictment there, McCarthy said.
Mike looked grim.
There was a massive screwup in the Milton County case, an unbelievable screwup. The judge signed an order granting Cardoni's motion to suppress, which he filed in the clerk's office. Fred Scofield had thirty days to appeal the order if he didn't want it to become final. During the thirty days, Cardoni disappeared and his hand was found in the cabin. Everyone thought that he was dead, and Scofield forgot to file the appeal. That means that Judge Brody's order is final and no evidence seized from the cabin or Cardoni's home in Portland can be used at a trial. Without that evidence, there is no Milton County case.
I don't believe this, McCarthy said. You're telling me there's no way to put Cardoni in jail? He's killed at least a dozen people.
Unless you've got proof that's admissible in court, that's just speculation. I can't arrest a man on a hunch.
Damn it, there's got to be a way, McCarthy muttered to himself. Suddenly he brightened. Fiori! Cardoni attacked Dr. Fiori. We can hold him for assault.
I' m afraid not. Cardoni says Fiori was stalking him. Fiori admits he followed Cardoni into the basement with a scalpel and made the first aggressive move. Cardoni's claiming self-defense.
Look, guys, we went through these arguments a million times. It always comes out the same way. There
