Show of Evil

'Up to Dermott leaving for St Louis. What've you got?'

'Okay,' Flaherty began. 'First, there's no question in my mind that it's the same killer. Same MO as the Balfour kill.' He spread some of the photos of Lincoln on the table. 'Same variety of stab wounds, same mutilation we had with the male victims ten years ago. The messages on the backs of the heads…'

He hesitated for a moment and Vail looked at him and said, 'Yeah? Go on.'

'The victim was Alexander Lincoln.'

Vail was surprised, although later he felt foolish that he hadn't guessed it sooner. 'The last of the Altar Boys,' he said.

' 'Cept fer Aaron Stampler,' St Claire said.

'Could there be more than one person involved?' asked Jane.

'I think this answers that question,' Flaherty answered. 'This was in the box Alex Lincoln was delivering when he was murdered.'

He handed a Polaroid photograph to Vail, who looked at it and whispered, 'Jesus!' Jane took it from him and stared at it with disgust. It was a photograph of the bloody remains of Linda Balfour, her terrified eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

'My God, who is this?' she asked.

'Linda Gellerman Balfour,' said Flaherty. 'Obviously taken immediately after the killer finished his work. You can actually see the blood spurting from the neck wound.'

'So he or she wants us to know.'

 'That's right, ma'am. What we got here's a bona fidey serial killer at work.'

'I want a twenty-four-hour guard on Jane starting right now,' Vail said.

'Y'think he'll be after her?' St Claire asked.

 'Who the hell knows? He's cleaned out the Altar Boys, it seems logical he'll go after the principals in the trial next. I'll spend the night here for the time being. I can sleep in the guest room. That okay with you, Jane?'

Vail's question was casual enough. Stenner didn't say a word. He leaned over and smelled the flowers, a move that did not go unnoticed by the rest of them.

'Whatever you feel is appropriate,' Jane said innocently.

'It will certainly solve the logistical problem,' said Stenner. 'I can pick you both up in the morning and take you to work. We'll need two men assigned outside from nightfall until I come by in the morning, one in front, one in back.'

'I'd suggest a man inside the house during the day, too, just in case the killer resorts to an invasion,' said Flaherty.

 'Good idea,' Vail said.

'Might not hurt to have a man in your digs, too, Marty,' added St Claire. 'Just in case this here killer decides to lay in wait there. Point is, it'd be nice to catch the son-bitch - excuse my French, ma'am - before he tries anything. Ambush him, so't'speak.'

 'Anybody else?' Vail asked.

 'Shoat?' suggested Stenner.

'He's on the state supreme court now. Seems like a long shot,' said Vail. 'Warn him and let him take appropriate action if he chooses to.'

'We may as well prepare ourselves,' said Stenner. 'Some people are going to think we're crazy.'

 'Let them,' said Vail.

 'How about the press?' asked Flaherty.

Vail scratched his jaw for a moment. 'Just a matter of time before they put it all together. But let's not give them any help.'

'Let's look at everything we know so far,' Stenner said.

St Claire looked at Jane and said, 'The first message was the quote from The Merchant of Venice: And here's the latest message from the killer.' He took out his notebook and flipped through the pages. 'It's from Hamlet, first act, scene five:

'I could a tale unfold whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,

Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,

Thy knotted and combined locks to part,

And each particular hair stand on end,

Like quills upon the fearful porpentine.'

Nobody responded for a few moments, letting it sink in.