'What was he tied up with?' I asked Benedict.
He flipped through the report. 'Twine.'
Twine fibers were found embedded in Jane Doe's wrists and ankles. A possible link.
'Was the weapon serrated?'
'No. The wounds were smooth. But they weren't as deep as the girl's.'
I thought about this. 'The jagged edge on a hunting knife, it doesn't start until a few inches up on the blade. At the tip, it's like a double-edged knife.'
'So it could be the same knife.'
'How did he get in?'
'Means of entry unknown. Place was locked when the maid arrived. She had a key.'
'Did they run that angle?'
'To death. The maid, no pun intended, was clean. In her deposition, she mentioned Booster sometimes kept his patio door open at night to let the breeze in.'
That struck me as odd, but I was a city girl. Suburbanites didn't have a lock-and-key mentality. Pay half a million for a house in a nice neighborhood and you figure crime will never happen to you.
'No prints at the scene, right?'
'No. But a few smudges on his body that could indicate latex gloves.'
'Does the daughter live there now?'
'Nope. She lives in Hoffman Estates. She's a kindergarten teacher.'
'Brave woman,' I said, recalling all of the screaming children back at the doctor's office.
'So what was that bit with Quasimodo at the pharmacy?'
'Oh. That was Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dumber.'
'The Feebies?'
'They're profiling again.'
Herb shook his head. He'd had some run-ins with the Federales last year on a murder case. Sixteen-year-old girl shot in the head, the same MO as another murder in Michigan. The FBI BSU ViCAT profile predicted the killer was a sixty-year-old white male truck driver, former enlisted man, bearded, and a bed-wetter.
The perp turned out to be two clean-shaven black gang members under eighteen, with no military experience between them, both untroubled by enuresis. Neither Herb nor I had much faith in profiling. In fact, neither of us had much faith in the FBI.
'So they profiled the Gingerbread Man with a curved spine.'
'It's just a hunch,' I said.
Herb didn't laugh at the joke either, but at least he got it.
'Well, maybe we'll get an ID now,' Herb said. 'People are bound to recognize the name Quasimodo.'
'Why is that?'
'Because he rings a bell.'
I winced.
'That one actually hurt.'
'Well, Hugo your way, and I'll go mine.'
'Let's not talk for a while.'
We came to a toll booth and I found forty cents in change in my ashtray. State troopers didn't have to pay tolls, but us lowly city cops weren't immune. Yet another reason to avoid the suburbs.
The Kennedy intersected Route 53 with the usual cloverleaf, and I took the leaf going north toward Rolling Meadows. Finally out of construction traffic, I released some pent-up tension and gunned the engine. It didn't startle Herb too much. Probably because the acceleration on my Nova was comparable to pushing a boulder up a hill.
Palatine Road going west took us off the expressway and into the heart of middle-American suburbia. I drove past housing developments, and strip malls, and shopping centers, and more housing developments, and a strip mall development, and finally found Elm Street without difficulty.
It was a little before two o'clock when we pulled into Dr. Booster's driveway, sandwiched between two mature spruces. The house was two stories and brown, partially obscured by an overgrowth of trees and bushes that needed trimming. The unkempt lawn was covered with brown leaves, and they crunched underfoot as we walked up to the front door.
Melissa Booster answered after the first knock, apparently having seen our approach. She was robust -- add a hundred pounds to Rubenesque and you'd have her figure. I suppose the PC term would be glandularly imbalanced or calorically challenged. She wore a red housedress that hung on her like a set of drapes. Her makeup was simple and expertly applied, and her brown eyes crinkled at us through the layers of doughy skin that made up her face. Her three chins waggled in a cheerful smile and she invited us in.
'Sorry we're late.' I offered my hand. 'I'm Lieutenant Daniels, this is Detective Benedict.'
