O'Donnell looked at him with glazed eyes, clearly in shock. Morton knew this, but he also knew there was nothing more he could do for them now-except to find their daughter's killer.
Chuck's cell phone rang.
'Excuse me for a moment,' he said, grateful for the interruption, and ducked around the corner to answer it. 'Morton here.'
'Chuck, it's Lee.'
'What's up?'
'There's a new twist-'
'What is it?' Chuck said in a lowered voice. The last thing he needed was the victim's parents to overhear his conversation.
'The priest found blood in the communion wine.'
'What?'
'The priest at Saint Francis Xavier went in to prepare for the service tomorrow, and when he went to fill the communion wine carafe, he noticed something odd about it. Turns out there was blood in it.'
'Oh, Jesus. So CSI never vetted that-'
'Well, they searched the whole church, but that room was way in the back, and it was locked, with no signs of tampering. I mean, they can go back and dust for prints, but if he didn't leave them at the crime scene, I doubt he got sloppy when he tampered with the communion wine.'
'Good lord. Send it to the lab for DNA analysis to find out if it's her blood.'
'Butts already did that.' There was a pause. Then, sounding reluctant, Lee added, 'You know what this means.'
'What?'
'He's evolving.'
Chuck clicked off his cell phone and looked around at the shiny, antiseptic walls of the morgue, his forehead burning with rage. For the first time, he thought of the killer by the name Butts had picked out for him. You sicko, he said under his breath. You goddamn psychopath Slasher…I'm coming for you, ready or not.
Chapter Twenty-seven
The city sat in Sunday morning stillness as Lee and Nelson sat with Detective Florette in Chuck Morton's office studying crime scene photos. The traffic in the street below was reduced to a sluggish crawl, with none of the usual impatient honking or screeching of brakes, just an occasional engine starting up or the sound of an empty truck rattling by.
Chuck and Detective Butts had not yet arrived, and the three men sat in a lopsided circle around Chuck's desk. On the desk were the case files for Marie Kelleher, Annie O'Donnell, and finally, Jane Doe Number Five-or Pamela, as they now knew her. No one had come forward with a full identification of her yet.
After poor Annie was found, the Queens detective in charge of that investigation had grudgingly admitted there might be a connection and forwarded the files over to Chuck.
'Blood in the communion wine? Talk about gothic,' Nelson said, draining the last of a day-old cup of coffee. He made a face as he swallowed the last of the bitter brew. Lee had just finished filling them all in on the latest development in the case.
'How long will it take to get the DNA back?' Nelson asked.
'Usually that kind of thing takes weeks,' Lee replied, 'unless they put a big rush on it.'
'Does it really matter whose blood it is?' Florette asked. 'I mean, for your profile of this guy?'
Nelson shrugged. 'Not really-unless of course it's his blood. But I think we can safely assume it's hers.'
'So this is part of his signature?' Florette said.
'Yeah,' Lee answered. 'And it means it's evolving, which is not necessarily a good thing.'
'The tox screen on her blood came in negative,' said Florette. 'That means he's restraining her physically-so he has at least average strength.'
'Not necessarily,' said Nelson. 'He could blindside her in the initial attack, knocking her unconscious before he ties her up.'
Lee shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He realized he had been hoping the tox screen would be positive-at least if the victims were drugged, there was a chance their suffering would be dulled.
'There are some chemicals that wouldn't remain in the system long enough to show up in a tox screen,' Chuck added.
'Some,' Nelson agreed. 'But he would have to have access to them.'
'Okay, so he's getting close enough to them to attack them suddenly,' said Florette. His deep, rich baritone sounded more like the cultivated voice of an FM classical announcer than a police detective. 'If he's not alarming to his victims right away, maybe there's something about him that disarms them-that appeals to them, even.'
'That's why killers like Bundy are so terrifying,' Nelson said. 'It's their appeal-he was killer, con man, and fantasy date all rolled into one.'
'I'll tell you something else about him that is just like Bundy,' Lee said.
'What's that?' Florette asked, sitting up a little straighter.
'Have you noticed the similarities in the victims?'
'You mean, they're all nice conservative Catholic girls?'
'No,' Lee answered. 'It's more specific than that.'
Nelson looked at the photos spread out in front of him. 'Oh, God-I didn't see it before, but you're right!'
'Right about what?' Florette asked.
'The hair,' Nelson replied. 'Remember how Bundy always chose women with straight dark hair, parted in the middle?'
Florette frowned. 'I don't have quite the same expertise you-'
Nelson interrupted him. 'His victims all resembled a woman who had broken his heart-'
'But wasn't that a common hairstyle in the mid seventies when Bundy was operating?' Chuck pointed out.
'Fair enough,' Lee said. 'But the point we're trying to make is that there's a physical similarity between this guy's victims too, or at least there seems to be. They all have dark curly hair, cut short.'
'You're right,' Florette agreed.
'I think we should open our minds to another possibility,' Lee suggested.
'What's that?' Florette asked.
'That there is more than one person involved.'
'Oh, come on, Lee-' Nelson began.
'Just hear me out-'
'Doesn't this kind of killer work alone?' Florette asked.
'Yes, but occasionally you find them working in pairs,' Lee replied. 'A stronger, more dominant type with a submissive partner-Charles Ng, for example.'
'He was the exception that proves the rule!' Nelson retorted irritably.
Charles Ng was one of the most sadistic and horribly deviant serial killers who ever lived-and a lot was known about him, because he videotaped his crimes. His sidekick Leonard Lake was the weaker but equally culpable partner in their rampage of kidnapping, torture, and murder of men and women in California in the 1980s.
'What if he was the 'assistant' or sidekick to a rapist say, five years ago-and he's since graduated to his own crimes?' Florette suggested.
'I actually think the nature of these killings indicate there could be two perpetrators working together,' Lee said. 'There is evidence of arrogance and gentleness-'
'What's 'gentle' about these crimes?' Chuck asked.
'The killer is someone who didn't seem threatening to his victims, which means he was probably shy and unassuming-'
'Or smooth and convincing, like Bundy,' Nelson interjected.
