“The next piece of the puzzle,” said Briggs, nodding to Fitz.
“I’d like you to take a look at this.”
Fitz had obviously been at work some time – the bottom half of Leonard White’s body was already naked. The pathologist pointed to the bruising on the inside of the dead man’s left thigh. “The killer has pumped the blood out through the femoral artery. While he shows a small amount of medical knowledge, he’s not as good as he’d like us to believe. If you look here...” – Fitz pointed – “…there’s extensive bruising where he’s probably jabbed away with the syringe until he’s found the artery.”
“Looks like he’s had a game of darts,” added Reilly.
“The blood in the pint glasses. Was it Leonard White’s?” asked Gardener.
“I’ve taken samples for analysis. I think it’s safe to assume it was.” Fitz paused before continuing. “I can’t see where all this is leading. He’s drained the man’s blood, and then given it back to us. There are no broken bones. If you look at the hands, all the fingernails are intact, which suggests no sign of torture. There seems to be a sense of purpose to what he’s done, but it’s not obvious.”
“A ritual?” asked Reilly.
“That’s more your territory, Sean,” said Briggs. “You ever come across anything like this?”
“No.”
“I don’t think it’s a ritual,” added Gardener. “If he’d kept the blood, maybe.”
“Was the blood drained while he was still alive?” asked Briggs. “I saw a film like that once.”
“It’s possible,” said Fitz. “I know the film you’re thinking of, The Abominable Doctor Phibes with Vincent Price.”
“Sounds about right,” said Briggs. “But that was just a film. Is it possible to do that in real life?”
“Nothing surprises me with the criminal mind,” replied the pathologist. “You can do anything if you’re so determined.”
“Interesting comment,” said Gardener to Briggs. “If the killer is a master of disguise, maybe the film world is somewhere we should start looking for clues.”
Briggs was about to speak when Fitz interrupted. “There’s something on his chest,” he said, with a sense of urgency.
Fitz had removed Leonard White’s evening jacket, revealing a starched white shirt. Allowing time for photographs, he then quickly took away the aged actor’s final item of clothing. He lowered the microphone ready for his report.
“We have a message on his chest,” said Fitz, examining more closely. “It hasn’t been written on top of the skin, but burned into it, and very possibly while he was still alive if the blisters were anything to go by.”
Gardener leaned forward, reading:
Man cannot hide from his sin
As the past will always reveal
One has paid while others remain
But be warned, a deal is a deal.
Chapter Nine
Briggs finally broke the silence.
“I can’t work out whether he’s a psychopath or a genius. If you’re nuts, you don’t leave puzzles that have been very cleverly put together with an obvious meaning.”
“The puzzles are inconsistent,” said Gardener, stepping back from White’s corpse. “The verse on the body is something he’s made up. The writing on the wall in the dressing room read more like a quote to me.”
“From anything you recognise?” asked Briggs.
“No,” replied Gardener. “But let’s be honest, it could be anything.”
“What’s he trying to tell us?” Briggs asked.
“The fact that he’s harboured a grudge for a long time?”
“Maybe,” said Briggs. “And he’ll make us work to prove his point. The key to the investigation hinges on the clues he’s offering.”
Each man stepped outside the room, leaving the pathologist to finish his job. The quicker he did that, the quicker they would have their report.
“You see, that’s where he shows his intelligence,” said Reilly. “That verse on the old guy’s chest was something he created. He knows what he’s doing, and it’s been well planned. He knew who he wanted and where to find him. What he’s doing now is making us play his game. It’s cat and mouse. Are we clever enough to catch him?”
“If he killed Leonard White the day before,” said Gardener, “he must have known about the tour and where he was staying. So, we need to find out where he was staying. After he’d killed him, he went to a lot of trouble to impersonate him and make a public spectacle of the whole thing, before quietly and confidently walking out of the theatre.”
“How did he get him into the place and do what he did without being noticed?” asked Reilly.
“I think it’s an inside job,” said Briggs. “Let’s face it, he managed to blend in, and he must have known his way around the theatre, particularly that one.”
“Paul Price seems to think not,” replied Gardener.
“Doesn’t matter what he thinks,” said Briggs. “He doesn’t want it to be an inside job because it looks bad on him and his theatre. What’s your opinion on Price? Is he capable of murder?”
“Anyone’s capable of murder,” replied Gardener. “I think he’s hiding something. The only thing he was bothered about was upsetting the smooth running of the place. Never mind that some bloke’s just been killed on his stage in full view of everyone. But my gut instinct tells me he’s not involved.”
“All the same, we’ll have him investigated,” said Briggs. “And the rest of them that run it. If word gets round, no one’ll work there.”
“I’m not sure about that. I don’t think anyone is trying to bring the theatre into disrepute,” said Gardener. “I think it’s personal. Leonard White, and others according to the verse on his chest, has upset someone. That someone is out for revenge. Here’s one to think about. Leonard White was in his seventies. The others probably will
