The Blood Runs Cold

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The Blood Runs Cold Page 21

by Catherine Maiorisi


  The autopsy is on the schedule for tomorrow afternoon so we should have a better estimate then.”

  Watkins raised his hand. “Are we dropping the del Balzo angle and considering this a serial killer?”

  “Yes. But if this is a serial killer, he’s not run-of-the-mill.” Corelli walked to the whiteboard. She drew a line across the top and then another line down the center to create two columns. She wrote on top of the left, Serial Killer, and on top of the right, Our Guy. “So what do we know about serial killers? Anyone?”

  Hei-kyoung Kim, known affectionately as Heiki, put up her hand. “They take a long time between victims.”

  “As time goes by the time between victims decreases,” said Charleen Greene.

  “Often stalk victims for some time,” said Dietz.

  “Generally go for either men or women, not both,” said Watkins.

  “Use excessive violence,” said Wachinski, “more than necessary to kill.”

  “Sexually motivated. And often they sexually mutilate the corpse,” said Parker.

  Corelli finished writing the characteristics in the Serial Killer column.

  “Anything else?” Corelli asked, looking around the room for raised hands. “What about often poses the body?”

  “Right,” someone agreed.

  “Okay. Let’s see how our guy stacks up.” She went down the list filling in the Our Guy column. Three victims in three days; doing both men and women; minimal, not excessive violence; nothing sexual; no mutilation; poses the bodies. She put the marker down and turned back to the group. We’re checking to see whether this kind of ritual posing has occurred elsewhere, but if this is a serial killer, he hasn’t read Serial Killing for Dummies.”

  While the team absorbed the information, Corelli picked up the photograph they’d taken from Burke’s office. “Our guy has killed three people, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say I don’t think we’re dealing with a serial killer per se. These killings seem too personal to me. Our killer is picking off the close friends of Kate Burke, Speaker of the City Council, the first woman and lesbian to hold that position. We believe he’s using this picture to identify the victims.” She held the picture up, then handed it off to be passed around.

  “Why?” a voice from the back.

  Corelli shrugged. “If we knew why, we’d have our killer.”

  “Could be a hate crime,” said Charleen Greene.

  “Could be. But think about it. It doesn’t appear to be robbery, though Nickerson and Lerner were wealthy. There was no sign of a struggle at any of the scenes and no defensive wounds on any of the vics. It looks like the three of them knew the killer, or at least had no reason to fear him. Nickerson and Lerner had prepared cheese and crackers and wine so they were probably expecting the visit. We think the killer is using Nardo’s gun. But how did the killer know Nardo had a gun and where he kept it? Any ideas? Questions? Comments?”

  The room was quiet except for the rustling of paper and scraping of chairs.

  Watkins spoke. “Maybe the del Balzo murder was spur of the moment. The perp took advantage of what was there, and he liked it so much he decided to do it again. And again. Only now he brings the gun and the rosaries and the incense and the CD player.”

  “Yes, he brings those things. But why these vics? It’s certainly not random.” Corelli put her hand up to cut off the buzz of conversation.

  “We do have a couple of leads. Both Councilman Collins from Queens and Tony DiSilvo, the Staten Island boss, actively opposed Speaker Burke. The councilman actually threatened her. We need to find out what they’ve been up to.” She looked at Dietz, “Send somebody to Staten Island to question DiSilvo. Parker and I will meet with Collins at City Hall.”

  Corelli ran her fingers through her hair. “Also, Burke confirmed Nardo and Nickerson were getting calls from somebody quoting the Bible and threatening to kill them. Parker spotted a couple of guys waving Kill the Homo signs in the background of one of Burke’s pictures and The Daily World has offered to pull photos and articles and send them over. We need to identify them and bring them in ASAP.”

  She looked around the room. “Couple more things. The vics’ names appeared in the article but Burke says their telephone numbers are unlisted, so how did the killer find them? We need to check the Internet to see if that information is available. Also, the first rosary was expensive, had a gold crucifix and cut-glass beads and probably belonged to del Balzo. That confirms Ron’s theory about spur of the moment because the other two were cheaper versions. The rosaries, the CD player, or CDs may lead us to him. If he’s targeted everybody in the picture, he must have bought multiple rosaries, CDs, and players. Find out where he’s getting them. Maybe a clerk will remember somebody buying that many, or god forbid, more.”

  Forlini raised his hand. “You can buy incense on the street so that’s not traceable. And you can get those cheap clock radio CD players in any chain drugstore. Since there’s about one store per block in the city, he could buy one at each store and nobody would notice.”

  “Probably true, but we have to try,” Corelli said. “We need more volunteers to hit the gay bars later tonight, see if we pick up anything about this religious guy.” No response. Homophobia or just fear of being labeled? “Come on guys, just a couple of drinks and chat. This is important. Don’t make me decide because I’m sure to screw somebody’s plans for the evening.” She looked around. Three hands went up. “A couple more please. Good. Have a good time.”

  She stood and stretched.

  “Hey Corelli, you and your brother getting any threats? I mean, you’re in the picture too,” Heiki asked.

  “Which picture?”

  Heiki walked over holding the picture Corelli had passed around. She put it on the table and placed a small magnifying glass on it.

  Corelli stared at the picture. “Oh, my God.” She dropped into her chair. “It’s not me. That’s my younger sister, Simone, and my nephew Nicky. The three of us look a lot alike. We were so focused on Burke’s friends that we didn’t examine the background. The steps of City Hall were reserved for VIPs. What the hell were they doing there?”

  Corelli swiveled to Parker who was standing behind her and was surprised to see she looked as shaken as Corelli felt. “Parker, call Burke, see if she knows why they were there.”

  She took a deep breath. “Do you have the list of tasks, Dietz?” He waved his notebook. “I got it all, don’t worry.”

  “Okay. In honor of our Brooklyn colleagues, I propose we have only one daily meeting, at seven p.m., unless there’s an objection—”

  “Oh, please, let’s keep it at seven a.m. I love getting up at five,” Forlini said.

  Corelli laughed and held up her hand to still the roar of protests that followed.

  “Suck it up, Forlini, we’ll go with seven p.m. Wachinski, Santiago, Watkins, Greene, and Kim, with me. Everybody else see Dietz if you need an assignment. Thanks guys, see you tomorrow night.”

  Bedlam returned as the team moved around the room, discussing the case and cracking jokes. Wachinski and Santiago approached Corelli warily.

  “You know what to do, so go do it. Let Dietz know if you need resources and keep us in the loop. See you seven tomorrow night.” Two sets of shoulders relaxed. Probably feared she would micromanage them.

  When the two detectives walked away, Kim, Watkins, and Greene approached. “Good catch, Heiki. Parker and I will follow up with those two. How far did you get with del Balzo’s alibi for Tuesday night?”

  “But he’s in the clear now, right?” asked Heiki. “I mean if it’s a serial or some other nut.”

  “Maybe. But I’m not ready to drop him as a suspect yet.”

  “A guy from the Turkish delegation said he looked all over for del Balzo before dessert, around ten, but he was nowhere to be found. Then I talked to a young woman, Francoise somebody from the French delegation, and she confirmed his alibi. But my gut tells me they have a thing going,” Heiki said.

&n
bsp; Was it worth wasting a resource on the ambassador? Corelli didn’t feel comfortable letting it go yet. She hoped it wasn’t just a reaction to his homophobia.

  “Be discreet but see what you can dig up about that. And try to find out what the ambassador was doing Friday night between seven or eight and midnight. Ask Dietz when you’re ready for something else.”

  “No problema,” Heiki said, clicking her heels and saluting.

  Laughing, Corelli speed-dialed Simone’s cell as Heiki strolled away. She was shunted to voice mail. “Simone, this is Chiara. I want you and Nicky at my apartment tonight at ten, no ifs ands or buts. Just do it. It’s critical that I speak to both of you. Plan to sleep over.” She knew she sounded angry but it was the fear. At least their names weren’t in the article.

  She turned to speak to Watkins and Greene. Parker was already huddled with them. “Watkins—”

  “Yes, boss. Parker told us Brett Cummings is flying into JFK from Tokyo tomorrow night. Brett, huh? I’ll be darned. Like a bad penny. We’ll get the flight number and time from her office and meet her.”

  “Don’t be a wise guy. She knows you, so it may make it a little easier for her. I don’t want her left alone. Take her to her apartment and stay with her until someone replaces you.”

  “Sure.”

  “And during the day tomorrow please follow up on the Nickerson autopsy. Ask Dietz for a couple of people to help you, and Greene check out the staff at Nickerson’s office.”

  As they walked away, Parker said, “I spoke to Burke’s office. Nicky and Simone were guests of Spencer Nickerson.”

  “Nickerson? How the—”

  “Everything all right?” Dietz said.

  “I hope so.” She leaned in close to him. “I still want the research on the del Balzos. But the fewer who know about it, the better. Keep the articles locked in your desk until I ask for them.”

  “You got it,” Dietz said. “I’ll lock up what we find with the I-talian magazines we got outta del Balzo’s place.”

  “Hey, Corelli, big homo demo in front of City Hall,” a male voice called out.

  Homo? We need to do some consciousness-raising here.

  “If this is what I think it is, Burke is a magician. Let’s get over to One Police Plaza, Parker. We can update the chief and have a front row seat for the demo.”

  When they arrived at his office, his door was open and Chief Harry Broderick stood at the window staring down. The murmur of a female voice pulled Corelli’s attention to the far wall where the screen of a large TV twinkled with pinpoints of light. She knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Corelli and Parker joined him at the windows. Below them thousands of candles flickered in the early dark as people gathered in City Hall Park and overflowed into the nearby streets. The chanting sounded gentle in the distance. It was mesmerizing.

  Broderick turned to Corelli. “Is this Burke’s work?”

  “She said she would take care of the mayor, but I didn’t expect a demonstration or anything so soon. And it looks like she got the media out too. That’ll definitely get Matthew’s attention.”

  “Nice ploy, that press conference, Corelli. Nevertheless, I expect you’ve turned Nickerson over to Benson?”

  She cleared her throat. “Chief.”

  He turned from the window.

  “You know that Meg Lerner, the artist, was murdered in Brooklyn, right?”

  “What has that got to do with Nickerson?”

  “Lerner, del Balzo, and Nickerson are three of Burke’s closest friends and they were all murdered and then posed in exactly the same way.” She hesitated, giving him time to take it in. “The three killings are definitely the work of one man.”

  “Shit.”

  She showed him the picture. “Now the other six are at risk, at least six that we know of, and we need to solve this quickly. I’m taking the other two cases, with or without the mayor’s approval. Or yours.”

  “Don’t be foolish. You’re jeopardizing your job. Matthews will use it to get rid of you.”

  “And if he does, I’ll go to the media. I won’t let his political aspirations jeopardize the investigation. Besides, there’s something else. It turns out my sister and nephew are also in that picture.” She pointed to the two figures standing next to Spencer Nickerson. “Their names weren’t in the article but…” She shrugged. “Anyway, I can’t wait for any more people to be murdered, whether it’s more gays and lesbians or my nephew or my sister. I’m not asking for your approval, Harry. This is a unilateral decision.”

  He glared at her. “Just a couple of months ago you were dying to get back to work. Now you’re ready to risk your job?”

  She shrugged and smiled. “You know me. I don’t have a choice. Even if it wasn’t personal, I couldn’t stand by and watch the bodies mount up just to save myself.”

  “Sure. It’s the right thing.”

  “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Harry,” she said, echoing his comment to her several months ago.

  He picked up the phone. “I’d better call the chief so he can warn the commissioner and the mayor. Even if we are ignoring his orders, it’ll be better if he isn’t caught with his pants down.”

  Corelli smirked. “I hear Matthews pulls them down every chance he gets.” She was sure that was the real source of her problem with the mayor. He had hit on her and she had rebuffed him. She wasn’t interested in men, especially married men. “And, not we, Harry. Not you. Not Parker. Only me.”

  Corelli stared at the flickering candles as the chief made the call. Was she just being provocative, or did she have to do this, in this way? Not provocative. A killer was picking off gays and lesbians and she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she let turf battles or egos or elections get in the way of neutralizing him before he could murder again.

  “Corelli.” Parker interrupted her thoughts. “Please don’t speak for me.”

  She met Parker’s eyes. “You’re willing to jeopardize your career?”

  “Are you?” Parker shot back.

  “Yes, but—”

  “But what? Do you think I’m a coward? Or maybe you think my career is more important to me than stopping some son of a bitch who is killing innocent people, some like Brett and Simone and Nicky, whom I know and care about?”

  Parker surprises me again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything about you. I just didn’t want to pull you into the leaky rowboat with me.”

  “I appreciate that. But I repeat, don’t presume to speak for me.” Parker held Corelli’s eyes until Corelli offered a small smile and a two-finger salute. “Welcome aboard the SS Sinking Ship.” Parker nodded. They both turned to the TV at the sound of Kate Burke’s voice.

  Burke stood at a podium facing the bright lights and a dozen or more microphones. Her eyes were puffy and she looked exhausted, but she stood straight and spoke with resolve. “We’ve gathered tonight to mourn three wonderful, giving, tax-paying citizens of New York City, three of my closest friends, two gay men and a lesbian murdered in their own homes in less than a week. The three murders were done in exactly the same manner, with the victims…” She took a deep breath. “…with each of them posed exactly the same. When I pressed her, Detective Chiara Corelli agreed the murders were very likely committed by the same person. But,” she paused for effect, “but,” she paused again and looked from person to person to person in the audience and then straight out to the cameras. “I was shocked to find out that her team is officially investigating only one of the cases. In fact, the eighteenth precinct where Spencer Nickerson, a brilliant software entrepreneur, lived, is taking control of that case. And the murder of lesbian artist Meg Lerner,” she stopped to blink back the tears, “is being handled by the seventy-fourth precinct in Brooklyn. This is not to denigrate the detectives at the eighteenth or seventy-fourth precincts, but clearly these murders are not separate incidents, and common sense tells us a single investigation is absolutely necessary if this sick killer is to be foun
d and stopped before he…” She brushed the tears from her eyes. “Before he kills another innocent victim.” Now she raised her voice. “Gays and lesbians are being targeted. Everything that can be done to stop this vile deviant must be done. And a combined investigation is the most expeditious way to bring this murderer to justice. The gay community demands it. NOW!”

  The crowd erupted in a chant, fists raised. “One investigation! Now!”

  “At least Burke’s on our side,” Broderick said. “Let’s see what kind of clout she really has.” He moved toward his desk. “Shut that thing off, would you?”

  “Wait. Look. Mayor Asshole.” Mayor Ricky Matthews strutted out of City Hall and headed for the spotlight, in front of the microphones where Kate Burke was standing. He leaned over, his mouth close to her ear, and said something. She listened. A smile flashed. She nodded and handed him the microphone.

  “Let me say how sorry I am that these three fine members of your community, of the New York community, have been murdered. I will do everything in my power to ensure that the murderer is hunted down and punished. Not ten minutes ago, I spoke with George Neil, the Commissioner of Police, about combining the investigations. Detective Chiara Corelli of the eighth precinct has already assumed responsibility for the three cases and she and her team will have my full support in solving these crimes.”

  Corelli smiled. Matthews was slick. He didn’t lie but he made it sound like it was his idea. Oh well, now he couldn’t fire her and Parker for doing it.

  Kate Burke reached for the microphone, leaving him no option but to stop speaking and hand it over. She thanked him and everyone who attended the rally on such short notice, and she ended with brief prayers from a minister, a rabbi, a priest, and an Imam. That’s New York.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Sunday – 10 p.m.

  They’d agreed in the car that Parker would take the lead with the kids to keep it more professional, less personal.

  Corelli was already upset as they rode the elevator up to her apartment. “I’m going to kill that kid.”

 

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