“We’re here to make sense of the evidence and stop a killing spree,” said Sneed, who always made a point of putting the new guy in his place in front of everybody-just like he did on Moni’s first day as a detective. “If you’ve got some good evidence, let me hear it. If not, shut up and stay out of the way.”
Aaron shot Sneed a surly glare. His professor elbowed him in the arm and Aaron wiped his face clean. It’s good he did, otherwise Sneed would have driven his boot into Aaron’s pretty dimpled cheek.
Looking around the room, Moni recognized a few outsiders in addition to the homicide team. She saw a freckle-faced blond woman wearing a Water Management District polo shirt and county medical examiner Paul Rudy. She also noticed one empty chair-the big leather one right besides Sneed. The lead detective didn’t start the meeting until the intended occupant for that chair arrived. He was the only person here who could pull rank on Sneed: a tall, trim Hispanic man in a black Air Force uniform.
Everyone rose and saluted him, although Aaron got his butt out of his seat last. Like most young men, he had issues with authority, Moni thought. She might enjoy correcting that.
“I’d like to introduce you to Brigadier General Alonso Colon, of Patrick Air Force Base and the 45 ^th Space Wing,” Sneed announced. The police officers appeared impressed, but professor Swartzman flinched when he heard the title. “He’ll be sitting in on this one.”
“Thank you officer,” Colon said in smooth Puerto Rican accent. “I’m here only to observe. The lagoon is our neighbor too and we are sworn to protect it.” He raised his palms in that assuring gesture politicians like to throw up when spewing lies behind a smile.
His calm tone couldn’t mask the obvious. The military wouldn’t care about a serial killer unless it tied into something huge happening on base. So, either they’re being tight-lipped about an incident at Patrick, or this shit’s a lot more serious than they’re admitting, Moni thought. The last time an officer from Patrick sat in on a county sheriff task force meeting they were discussing security for the space program in the wake of 9/11.
This couldn’t be that serious. Could it?
Sneed, Skillings and the other officers pored over the evidence from five murders. They still couldn’t pinpoint the initiate causes of death and whether the beheadings took place before or after the internal trauma to the bloodstream. The crime scenes and corpses didn’t offer any fingerprints, hair or other traces of the killer. They couldn’t agree on what the murder weapon might be. Surgical saw, Ginsu knife, laser cutter-they all had whacked- out theories. They couldn’t find a common link between the victims, other than they were near the lagoon when they were killed.
“It’s too bad we don’t have a cooperative witness to settle this debate,” Sneed remarked with a berating eye on Moni.
“Our witness has shown as much cooperation as you could expect from an eight-year-old who’s been traumatized by her parents’ murders,” Moni said. “She’s making good progress. If you can chill with that attitude for a while and let her do her thing, Mariella will help us.”
The military man’s taciturn eyes shifted to Sneed, who looked like he had a bunker-buster launched down his gullet.
“How many more good folks are gonna get their heads cut off before that brat starts a’ squawking?” Sneed asked. “You forgot what your job is ‘cause you’re off playing mommy. If you want a companion, get a fucking puppy and get the hell off my case.”
Sneed pointed toward the door. Moni would have followed his finger, but that would mean walking out on Mariella too. If she gave him the slightest hint of a reason, Sneed would pull the psychologist’s strings and get the girl shipped off to foster care.
Moni couldn’t let the gluttonous detective un-wrap Mariella like a baked potato in tin foil and stick a fork in her fragile mind. While she stewed in her sweat, Aaron leaned halfway across the table and stared right at Sneed.
“I don’t know what that kid saw, but I bet she doesn’t know the whole story,” the grad student told the seasoned detective, who had sent plenty of kids his age away for life. Sneed’s gruff frown didn’t deter Aaron from pressing it. “You need a microscope to see the best evidence in this case.”
“Our forensic team has already combed the crime scenes,” Skillings said. “We’ve got every little detail cataloged.”
“But that’s not much good without a conclusion,” professor Swartzman said. “I took a close look at all five bodies this morning. They have one thing in common, and it’s something they share with many animals in the lagoon-the bacteria thiobacillus. We believe the lagoon is contaminated with a mutated strain.”
The professor recited some complicated mumbo jumbo about the bacteria eating sulfur, iron and oxygen and spitting out sulfuric acid. He said the bacteria caused the thinning out of blood and the acid burns on the victims. The byproducts of the bacteria-sulfuric acid and depleted oxygen levels in the lagoon-spurred fish kills and damaged organisms along the lagoon floor.
“If the bacteria keep spreading, the environment of the Indian River Lagoon could be catastrophically changed,” Swartzman said. “We’re talking about the death of substantially all marine life and the extinction of many species.”
“The acidity levels in the lagoon are increasing and we’ve noticed spurts in some places, which were followed by fish kills,” said the scientist from the Water Management District, who earlier introduced herself as Laura Heingartner. “Some of the fish corpses tested positive for the mutated strain of thiobacillus.”
Sneed leaned his chubby chin on his palm in a complacent pose. “I think you’ve got the wrong meeting. This is the county sheriff’s office, not Green Peace. My only concern with your thio-whatever is that it contaminates corpses and muddles the evidence.”
“It might be more than that,” medical examiner Rudy said. “I can’t rule out the bacteria as the first cause of death. It’s possible that they caught the infection before the decapitation. Someone might have poisoned them with it.”
“Those decapitated bodies were in the water for quite a while-long enough to pick up all kinds of stuff,” Sneed said.
“And why would a killer use some obscure strain of bacteria to off someone?” Skillings asked the scientists. “There are much easier ways if you wanna whack somebody-believe me.”
She slipped Moni a condescending glare. Skillings had racked up near-perfect scores in the shooting range while Moni graded out average. Moni seethed in frustration as Skillings aimed to upstage her once again.
Aaron caught the exchange between the two women and stuck his head into the line of fire.
“There’s no way the bacteria are acting alone,” Aaron said. “We found a sea turtle with an infected tumor on it, but the critter escaped. Now our GPS shows him cruising along at 40 miles per hour a couple times a day. Either the turtle learned how to jet ski, or somebody’s making him spread this bacteria all over the lagoon.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Swartzman told his student. “We still haven’t caught that turtle and you couldn’t take that sample I asked for. So we can’t say for sure that it’s infected.”
“The turtle had a fat purple tumor. What else could it be?” Aaron asked.
Purple-the word triggered something in Moni’s brain. It felt like a string from a repressed memory. Where had she seen a strange purple lump before?
“Did you say the infection looks purple?” Moni asked Aaron.
“Like little purple pimples, or big purple tumors,” he replied.
“I have a picture of what they look like on a human body,” the medical examiner said.
He turned his laptop toward Moni and she saw the tiny purple goose pimples along the underarm of one of the corpses. It was Mariella’s mother. Moni choked up. She had seen the body that day, but she had barely known the girl then. Now it felt like she had lost a mother too. Moni remembered her mother’s tranquil ebony face as she lay in her open casket. Moni imagined a purple tumor growing out of the skin on her mother’s forehead until it covered her face. She tried closing the eyelid, but the purple blob flung it open.
No. That wasn’t where she had seen it.
The momentary fear stirred up the volatile mix of memories in Moni’s mind. She found the buried coal without going back far at all. The first day she found Mariella, she had brushed the despondent girl’s teeth for her. Moni had seen a few purple bumps inside her mouth, just behind her lips. She should have called the doctor. She couldn’t remember why she didn’t. Moni didn’t understand how it had gotten overlooked during Mariella’s check up. The doctor said the girl appeared perfectly healthy-physically, at least.
Moni felt a chill run up her spine. Mariella had been infected. The bacteria feasted on the iron and oxygen in
