suspect’s activity period. They’ll transmit any biological information direct to the Medical Examiner’s office. But we’ve got another issue. The suspect has just alleged that he dropped body parts along the interstate between Atlanta and LA. We need to find out if any of the material’s been recovered and why it hasn’t been ID’d yet. If we can get proof on those ones, we can charge him on each count.’
‘I’ll call Cates at CJIS; he’ll get you an NCIC liaison.’
‘Sir.’ Scott could hear his boss switch the call to speakerphone and he waited for him to continue. He thought about how the head of the whole Criminal Justice Information Services Division might not be too pleased to get a direct call about an NCIC issue, but he couldn’t help it if Turner wanted to show off.
‘OPR interviewed me last night.’ Turner sounded more casual now, as though leaning back in his chair. ‘Never liked internal affairs myself but I try not to hold it against the rank-and-file.’
Scott smiled as he imagined the cross-grilling tactics Turner probably used on the agents trying to question him.
Turner stated, ‘I made it clear that my assessment of the situation is that, during the course of this investigation, you have not displayed activity that warrants disciplinary action.’
‘Thank you—’
‘Now, Houston, the only way I could do that was to
‘Uh, it’s named for the Geneva Conventions, Article Thirty-two, Protocol One.’
‘Geneva? As in the laws of war?’
‘Yes, sir. I understand that the part it’s named for deals with the right of families to know what happened to their relatives – where their bodies are buried, and so on.’
‘Huh. Well, your fax this morning shows that Thirty-two One led you to the firm ID that’s become crucial for building the case against the suspect. Is that correct?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And now you tell me we’ve got body parts strung across the Bible Belt, the Corn Belt,
‘Yes, sir.’
Turner went from the speakerphone back to the handset and Scott quickly ran down a mental list for what Turner could hit him with next.
THREE DAYS LATER
Monday
THIRTY-FOUR
San Fernando Road, Los Angeles: 2.00 p.m. Carol was having a vacation day so when the mailman came in the front door, Jayne went to meet him. She gave him the outgoing mail, which consisted of one piece, a checklist for the Ledbetters of Wisconsin, now that they’d decided to do a profile of Amy at 32/1, combining it with a road trip to Disneyland for their other two daughters. The mailman handed over the incoming pile and Jayne heard Steelie call out to her, so she diverted down the hall, mail still in hand.
Steelie was sitting at the light box, looking at a rectangular X-ray that measured about an inch and a half on each side. She turned when Jayne walked in and said, ‘Can you look at this?’
Jayne put the mail down, checked out the bruise on Steelie’s chin for new color changes, then focused on the X-ray. It showed several upper teeth in a human jaw.
‘Got anything besides a bitewing?’ she asked.
‘This isn’t a buffet,’ Steelie parried. ‘Would you say that’s a root canal plus a post or just a root canal?’
‘Got any dentist’s notes?’
‘No. When they archived these they lost all the paper notes. The only things left were these bitewings, probably because they were stapled on to the folder itself.’
‘OK, I’m leaning toward root canal but I’d put a note about the possibility of a post. We simply don’t have enough information to do more than that.’
Steelie pulled a magnifying glass from a jar on the counter. She used it to look at the X-ray again. Jayne walked to the end of the room and started rummaging through a drawer.
After a while, Steelie turned on her stool. ‘What on earth are you looking for?’
‘Didn’t we have some candlestick holders in here from when the power was always going out?’
‘Oh, you mean in the days
‘Seriously. And where did you move that candle the women in Atlanta gave me?’
‘They’re both in the top drawer of the other cabinet.’ She turned back to the light box.
Jayne pulled open that drawer and brought out a holder. She put the candle in but it was too narrow to stand up on its own. She lit a match to warm the wax so that it would stick to the holder and she could see the wick inside. Then she remembered Scott saying something about the wick going all the way through.
They had been in the Sunkist parking lot – that first reunion. He had been right, both about the wick and about how the two of them were at opposite ends of the same effort. They were all identifying people, whether starting with a body or a missing person. Watching the wax melt, Jayne decided Scott was right about a lot of things and the memory of their embrace on the side of the road surged forward in a rush – his hands in her hair, her mouth on his, the desire.
And the desire was now only part of it. When she’d become aware of Scott lifting her up from that disgusting, bloody motel floor, she’d felt truly alive. But she hadn’t been able to make any words come out. Later, when she’d asked Angie where Scott was, she’d explained that he was logging evidence and offered to take him a message. But by then, Jayne just wanted to show him how she felt. They’d talked enough. She’d held off calling him, just waiting – in excruciating, deeply pleasurable anticipation – for him to return to LA.
The telephone rang and Steelie called out ‘My turn,’ as she rolled over on her stool to answer it.
‘Scott!’
Jayne turned around, half expecting to see him in the doorway. But Steelie was listening intently to the phone and gave her a thumb’s up sign. ‘Hang on, Houston, let me put you on speaker.’
Jayne put the candle down and came to stand by Steelie, who pressed a button and turned up the volume while telling Jayne, ‘They’re still in Atlanta. You gotta hear this.’
‘Scott?’ Steelie called out. ‘Tell Jayne what you just told me.’
After a pause, Scott said, ‘Jayne.’
It gave her a jolt to hear his voice. ‘Scott, hi.’
‘Hi. So, what I said was, we’ve got a full confession from King on the Georgia cases, plus the BP’s on the Ventura Freeway.’
She and Steelie called out questions simultaneously. Scott used broad brushstrokes to describe how King had preyed on the women who worked in Atlanta’s red light district and posed as a shuttle driver to pick up Eleanor Patterson. ‘He had also stopped a woman while dressed as a cop. But not you, Steelie. At least, he denies it so far.’
Jayne stared at Steelie, who looked suddenly anxious. ‘I never thought it was Gene . . .’
Jayne said, ‘And if it wasn’t, that means there’s someone else out there posing as a cop and assaulting people.’
Scott replied, ‘We’ve checked in with LAPD and the Sheriff’s Department on this and it turns out that people posing as cops happens in LA County more than you might think. Most of the time, the ruse is part of a shakedown for cash. Sometimes sexual assault. But it doesn’t generally result in murder and the local guys have caught a fair few of the perps. Then there are a few cops who’ve abused their badges. But Steelie? Don’t worry about your guy right now. They’ll catch up with him eventually. As for King, the prosecutors are dealing with him by rolling some charges together in exchange for getting locations on body parts he’s dropped across the country.’
Jayne immediately thought of how she and Steelie were bruised but alive while the families waiting outside Gene’s house might soon have answers of a different sort.
