“Under this perfume bottle called “Passion!” The placement of the card might be important, right?”
“Bag her hands and her feet,” Jake looked carefully for any signs of blood on her heels, but there was no visible evidence of any kind, except for her finger prick. The shoes were similar if not identical to the shoes Caterina was wearing, they certainly tied the two crimes together. He bent down and smelled her neck, chest and ears, she was heavily doused with a strong scent. He then straightened up and asked Burnsey to hand him the perfume bottle the note was placed under, ‘Passion,’ sniffing the stoppered bottle he concluded “same scent, very sophisticated. Finish tagging her, and bag the perfume as well.’
The white card with the White Owl richly embossed in black on the front, seemed to glare up at Jake. He turned it over, and read the partial quote from Shakespeare, “Cut off even in the blossom of my sin.”
“Man, we are in deep sh.....!” Jake groaned, “It seems we have a serial killer targeting wives of city officials. We have to find a connection. Dr. Smith, find me a means of death on these two women, soon to be lying together on identical slabs in your morgue. Pull out all the stops. You have carte blanche.”
Jake borrowed the commissioner’s words. They were very effective. Before Dr. Smith could gather up the corpse and alert his team to head for the morgue Carter was ushered into the store and led to the window where his wife rested on the chaise lounge. He stood stupefied beside her at a loss for words and breath, he stuttered “D..d..Daphne, no God, no. Not you, not you.”
“Does this scene hold any significance for you? Were you involved with your wife Daphne in a role such as this at any time in your marriage? In the store or in this window?” Jake questioned.
“No sir, not here but at a photo shoot with Tony McCane for a charity gala. Daphne was overjoyed to be chosen to represent the city and our constituency. She was photographed on a chaise lounge, posed just like that,” Carter said pointing to his wife lying there as though asleep, “for a national magazine. Daphne was in her glory, so happy to be selected for the honor.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, we will take the body of your wife to the police morgue where you can make her final arrangements. Burnsey see that the councilman gets driven home.”
Burnsey took his arm and led the sobbing man away, apparently stricken by grief.
“No lolly gagging now men, we have important work to do. We have to detect how this gorgeous creature bought death at Wanamaker’s!” Dr. Smith led his men out of the store determined to help Jake solve these gruesome murders.
“Chief, are you forgetting the maid, equally as dead, with no tell tale signs of trauma, except for the blood on the roses, do we lump them all together?” Burnsey returning, was concerned the maid did not count.
“Burnsey, not only is she important, she may be the key to the whole affair. There was blood however and it will be up to Dr. Smith to determine where, how and why?”
“Why is she the key, sir?” Burnsey asked confused by the multiple answer.
“Why? Because she does not fit in! She is out of the pattern! And the blood, she was the only one that showed trauma.” Jake turned to his detectives,
“Now what do we know about Daphne Carter? What don’t we know that got her killed? For that matter, both women, all three women. Burnsey, write this down before we take another step. Both women were wives of important men in law enforcement. Policy makers. Both women were drop dead gorgeous. Both women had time on their hands and money to spend. Were they fulfilled or were they bored? Looking out of their circle for......What?
Fill in the blanks.”
“Plus no children! “ Burnsey interjected.
“Right!”
“Let’s give Smith a chance to identify what or how they were murdered, and you and your men question every one that knew them, as to their character and what connects them? That is important! The connection.....very important!
Let’s get going Burnsey ride with me. I want your verbal report on what the photographer had to say. Every way we turn Tony McCane seems to be involved.”
“Right chief! I will fill you in as soon as I get the car.” Burnsey rushed off, avoiding officers and police barricades.
“The tableau’s that are set up, are they for our appreciation or for the husbands, and if so why?” Jake speculated to himself, while he waited for the car to pick him up.“Natalie the maid was just out and out murdered no stage setting, but she had no husband that we know of, no collectable ransom. Still the murderer knew there would be an investigation. The elaborate set up must be for the husbands. A warning to them and to others that they meant business? Could blackmail be the impetus? It is always about the money. Thinking about the maid….in most cases.” He waved to Dr. Smith who was heading for the morgue with Daphne’s body in the ambulance.
Burnsey pulled up with the car and Jake waited to hear what went on in the McCane studio.
CHAPTER 6
Dr. Smith and his team in the police morgue were clad in gloves, masks, and rubber aprons, staring down at the new additions to that cold, bleak room.
“Gosh, they sure are beautiful!” The young intern on call said, finding it hard to take his eyes off the naked women on the slabs.
“Let’s just ignore the physical attributes of the young women. I am about to make my first cut.” The team gathered around as Dr. Smith turned on his microphone and the electric saw to make his initial “Y” cut on the first victim, Caterina Woods.
“As you know Autopsy comes from the Greek meaning “Cause of Death” that is what we are trying to determine this afternoon.” He skillfully cut through the rib cage to reveal more of the internal organs. Smith spoke into the microphone in a monotone voice as he cut and taught, concentrating on the bodies organs.
“Doctor, excuse me for interrupting,” Smith, looked up annoyed for the moment. But, he always encouraged his students to have opinions and state them, so he cut off the buzz of the saw, “Yes son, you noticed something significant?”
“Sir, you can see the smooth, unblemished skin of the victim, and yet there seems to be a greenish tinge around, what looks like a small puncture wound under her right arm.” The young intern said boldly to the senior Medical Examiner Dr. Smith, pointing to the barely noticeable wound.
Dr. Smith carefully finished putting the liver which he had just extracted from the body of Caterina, in a tray his assistant handed him, he turned the body slightly onto her right side and took a biopsy of the tissue surrounding the puncture wound. He was impressed by the fact his intern, looked outside the box and not just watching his cut, and said so.
“If this turns out to be the site of ‘cause of death,’ which I doubt, but none the less, you are to be congratulated Stewart on your keen observation. While we were concentrating on gross anatomy, you were studying other possibilities. Stewart take this tissue to the pathology lab and give it to the doctor on duty, stay with him, you may learn something. Then bring the report back to me. Jake needs a diagnosis STAT!”
Stewart took the covered tray from Smith and left the morgue in a hurry to get to pathology before his sample lost any of its viability. Stewart knew he could read the autopsy notes later, so he would get the full picture on the death of the victim.
As Stewart entered pathology his senses were assailed by the smells emanating from the lab, predominately formaldehyde. The pathologist looked up from his microscope, “Can I help you with something,” he asked, taking in the intern’s intense appearance and the covered tray in his hand.
“Yes sir,” offering up the tray reverently, as though it was the host at mass, “We need this analyzed for a poison or toxin that could kill a young, healthy woman. I was told to wait for the results.”
“Did you say wait? Are you out of your mind? I have so many cases to investigate and we are short handed right now, and I am alone. Sorry chum, I
have no time to take on one more thing. Why don’t you ask Doctor Smith to investigate it for you? He is qualified. “
“He sent me to you and told me to wait. “
“I can’t help you, sorry.” He turned back to his microscope, ignoring Stewart.
Stewart stood frustrated, not knowing what to do. He shifted his feet from side to side and then turned and walked out of the lab with his tray. He stopped, hesitated, and returned to the pathologist. “Look sir, let me leave this with you, I really don’t want to bring this specimen back to Dr. Smith, just tell me you will send him a report as quickly as you can.”
The pathologist sighed, pushed his stool out of the way, and took the sample from Stewart. “Okay, I will put it in the refrigerator for now, but I can’t promise when I will be able to dissect this specimen.” The pathologist tucked the covered tissue into the already crowded refrigerator.
Stewart said leaving, “ I am sure the powers that be will be delighted if it was sooner rather than later. They are trying to stop a serial killer!”
The pathologist gawked at him, “Maybe you should have mentioned that piece of vital information sooner,” He said as he removed the tray from the refrigerator. “I will personally deliver my report to Dr. Smith.”
Stewart continued to walk away, but he was smiling. “I just implied Chief Guiliani, but it worked.”
“Chief, you should see the studio set-up that guy, McCane has, it is incredible!” Burnsey said driving Jake in the squad car and could not wait to share what he learned from Tony McCane, the photographer. “The girls standing around all in different states of undress, lounging nonchalantly, smoking, fixing their make up, combing their hair, you know, girlie thing’s, I know my eyes bugged out. No wonder Johnny gave me the fish eye when I took his assignment away.” Burnsey said feeling pleased with himself. “I managed to edge closer to the models and ask them a few questions about Tony, unanimously they were very much in favor of the man. They had nothing but good things to say about him. I thanked them and turned to McCane who approached me, holding out his hand, asking to be called Tony. Honestly Chief,” Burnsey interrupted himself to look at Jake,” I could hardly tear my eyes off the models to shake hands and they knew it and were laughing at me. He was filming a shoot for an up-coming fashion show, and the girls were hanging around waiting to begin the filming. I asked if he had an office or a place where I could ask him some questions in private, without the distractions. He was very gracious and asked me to follow him. We entered his, I guess you could call it, his inner-sanctum. The room looked as though it had been ripped out of “World’s of the Future” magazine, all glass, chrome and white leather.”
“Sounds expensive.” Jake interjected.
“Yeah, it looked very expensive.” Burnsey continued. “The walls were covered with black and white photos of Antarctica. Icebergs and vast expanses of ice and snow in oversize chrome frames. The floor was white Carrera marble with black shag carpeting in front of a large fireplace, however no mantle and no fire. He sat down behind a glass desk devoid of correspondence or papers of any kind except for a white telephone by his right hand. He indicated the uncomfortable looking Lucite chair in front of his desk for me to sit on, I obliged and got down to business handing him the photograph you found in Caterina’s bureau drawer. He studied the face in the photo but looked back at me puzzled. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“I told him we were trying to identify the man in the photograph, with his help.”
Jake was listening to Burnsey’s narrative very intently, not wanting to interrupt further except for a grunt here and there at key points.
“Offhand, Tony denied knowing him saying he had no recollection of the person, however he continued to study the photo, saying the picture seemed quite old. He pointed out the colors were fading around the edges, he guessed the picture was taken at least ten years earlier. He said they did not keep records past five years, unless they were of famous people or the photo’s had a special interest to Tony. He then handed the picture back to me of the still unidentified man and started to pick up the telephone, indicating the interview was over, when I asked him one more question, “Did you know Caterina Woods, the mayor’s wife?” He said he knew her, casually. He filmed her at social events, Tony said she was always friendly but aloof. He was impressed with her looks and said she was photogenic.
I left shortly after. I noticed the girls were all in front of cameras being photographed by Tony’s assistants. Tony did not waste any time by talking to me.” Burnsey finished his story.
“So Natalie came from Russia after approximately ten years had passed according to McCane’s estimate when the picture was taken, in order to find the handsome man in the photo. Why did she wait so long?” Jake speculated partially to himself. “According to the letter Natalie came to the states to look for him. In the process she renewed her friendship with Caterina…. then died, murdered. Where does Daphne fit in and why the lavish costumes and stage settings? They were all caught up in some intrigue, a game that led to their deaths. Is this picture important?” Answering his own question, “Yes, because it was hidden and the writer of the letter is dead, killed along with Caterina. That’s what makes it important! Did you question McCane about his whereabouts when the murders were being committed? Did he have an alibi?”
“I did Chief, and that was the strange thing. I was holding out that bit of information, till we got to the station. Don’t ask me why but he was at both murder scenes. At the first one he had a camera crew filming a TV spot.”
Jake gaped at Burnsey who raised his hand to keep Jake from yelling.
“At the second scene in Wanamaker’s he was there getting the wardrobes for the models he was filming today. He doesn’t remember where he was when the maid bought it. Do you want me to bring him in? Do you want to question him further?” Burnsey was not disturbed by the look in Jake’s eye, but he should have been!
“First of all, Mister Burns, we have had three murders in about the same time frame, when I ask you for a report I do not expect to receive said report piecemeal. Or in the order you feel is the most important. I will be the judge of what is important! We have major trouble with the commissioner and I don’t have to mention the mayor, and the press, I have to have all the facts, so I don’t get bit in the ass! Do you understand, Mister Burns? Write up your assignment with Tony McCane and do not leave anything out. I do not want to see your face until you are finished. Clear!”
Jake stormed out of the car and headed for his office, seething mad. Ignoring Burnsey’s stuttered answer.
Jake picked up the ringing telephone and answered gruffly, “What is it?
I will be right there, wait for me before you proceed further!”
“Wilson follow me. We are going to the morgue, on the double.”
“Why boss, they’ll wait.”
“Everyone is a comedian! What is happening to this squad? We have to tighten the ship if we are going to get to the bottom of these murders! Understand, or would you rather pull desk duty like Mr. Burns?”
“No sir, I have had enough desk duty to last many life times, sir! Here is the car sir!”
“Okay, okay knock it off, let’s go see what Dr. Smith has laid out for us!” Jake said getting into the passenger seat. “My guess is poison it has to be some weird poison.”
Wilson took off for the morgue, blue lights flashing. With the lights flashing plus the sirens, he avoided stopping for traffic lights. Just one of the perks for being on the force, that and taking a car home. That saved him beau coup bucks in car payments and car insurance. “Boy,” he thought. “the chief has a wild hair up his ass over something. I guess this case has him frustrated, not to mention those freaking card, geez!”
Jake and the detective entered the special refrigerated room where Dr. Smith had the three victims laid out side by side on their own slabs. White sheets were covering their
mutilated bodies, not yet sewn closed from the autopsies. The odor of blood mixed with the smell of chemicals tickled their noses as they entered the room. Dr. Smith was alone waiting for them.
“Did you figure the cause of death as yet Dr. Smith?” Jake asked the medical examiner respectfully.
“Yes, as a matter of fact we did! I left the bodies exposed because I wanted to demonstrate to you the symptoms that prove the toxin used to poison these ladies is evident in autopsy without question.” Dr. Smith drew back the sheets and showed Jake, who gasped and looked away for a minute, the color of the blood. “What stands out immediately is the brightness of the blood. The hue is a fire engine red color, not normal. At this stage the color would be dark, more burgundy, it is an indicator that the victims died of carbon monoxide poisoning! When you discovered their bodies did you note a ruddiness to their complexion?”
“The victim’s faces were heavily made up Doc, except for the maid. Not knowing her we just thought her face was the natural color of her skin, but her complexion was ruddy, even in death.” Wilson answered.
“How long does it take to kill? “ Jake wanted to know.
“That varies, it could be instantly or small interrupted doses over a long period of time.” The M.E. answered knowledgeably. “The victims were killed at another location, not where their bodies were found, so they were moved making it more difficult to discover the source of the ingestion in my opinion”
“Carbon monoxide, a gas right? You stick your head in the oven or turn on the car in a closed garage. They would have to be unconscious first, to get a result like that, am I right?” Jake questioned.
“There are many other ways in which carbon monoxide kills, a faulty space heater, cooking on a charcoal brazier inside the house, a faulty gas heater in the basement, for instance. Carbon monoxide is a toxic gas that is odorless, tasteless, colorless and initially, non-irritating. If it also could be liquid, the perfect poison. But of course no one has figured out how to liquefy the gas without it becoming benign.” Dr. Smith instructed.
The Cult of the White Owl Page 6