by A Wallace
Murphy grabbed the knife and sliced the tomatoes. “It’s time to chat with the school superintendent.”
“I’ll suggest to Doobie to send the investigators to dig further.” Charley glided to the fridge and removed a bowl of fresh fruit.
“How about, he works in the medical or pharmaceutical community?” Murphy placed the final slice of bread on the sandwiches. “Olivia required insulin. If he gave it to her, how would he get it? It’s a prescription.”
Charley plopped the container of mixed fruit on the counter. “That doesn’t explain how he knows their school activities.”
He went to the cabinet behind them to retrieve two plates. “True.” Back at the counter, he placed the sandwiches on the plate. “When do you think he’ll strike again?”
“The killer is a stickler for details. The next abduction will happen mid-May if we don’t find him first.” She grabbed a spoon from the drawer before she opened the fruit bowl lid. “He’s not quite using a cycle, but so far we have Robin nabbed the first of March and Olivia the thirteenth of April. The dumping dates, Tuesday, the fifteenth of March and Tuesday, the twenty-sixth of April both after mid-afternoon and evening and discovered early morning.”
“Both found on a Tuesday.” Murphy removed two glasses from the cabinet and stopped by the refrigerator for milk. “So we’ve established he has a clock, or time pattern, not necessarily the date.” He poured the milk into the glasses. “Robin died around one thirty in the morning, Olivia at midnight.”
“The time frame may be his witching hour. Something sets him off.” On the other side of the kitchen, Charley grabbed two bowls for the salad. As she stepped closer to the island, she gasped. “The moon, he’s adjusting to the moon, a crescent moon.”
“Now there’s an idea. What are parents supposed to do, not send their children to school during this phase of the cycle? Send out a message, girls can’t attend class, but boys can?” He carried the glasses of milk to the table.
“The school system increased security, including active duty police officers working overtime at the schools at night.”
Murphy placed the milk on the table and returned for the plates. “They’re anticipating another abduction at the school?”
“My opinion, the next one will happen nowhere near a school. He’s advancing, smarter, cleaner, and shrewder.” The salad bowls full; she placed fresh fruit on each plate. “He’ll hit publicly, in a populated area with lots of activity.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?”
“I’m not sure. It’s a gut feeling, though I’m confident he’ll strike again. He’ll want to make a major statement with the third victim.”
Murphy opened several drawers for the utensils. He placed a knife and fork on the plates. She scampered around him with the lunch plates in her hand as she nodded for him to follow. He snatched the salad bowls and followed her to the kitchen nook. “He kept Robin one day longer than Olivia. Fourteen days versus thirteen days. Why?”
After he placed the salad bowls on the table, he scooted the chair back for her, she said, “One day may not seem significant to us, but to them it’s major. One day is the difference between accomplishment and failure. One day less, convinced him he is thriving. In his mind, he’s setting a standard, making a statement. With Olivia he felt more secure, confident.”
Murphy took his seat next to her. “I’m outta ideas.”
“Happens in cases such as these.” She took her first bite. “Oh. My. Gawd. This is the best sandwich ever. It’s yummylicious.”
He grinned as she chewed with a satisfied expression. Murphy placed his thumb on the corner of her mouth. “You… gotta… little mayo.” He removed the dab of sauce and licked it from his thumb.
Charley blushed. “Thanks.” She sunk her teeth into the sandwich again, her face beaming with delight. She pointed at the bread, nudging him. “You da’ man.”
Chapter 18
Sweet Suffocation
Manassas, VA - Medical Examiner’s Office
Wednesday, 27 April – 4:00PM
Angled next to Murphy, Charley, and he waited alongside the steel slab, for Carmichael to provide answers. Olivia’s face glowed under the exam light illuminating her fine features. A white sheet draped her body. Her soft, sable hair touched her shoulders and flared onto the table. Charley lowered her head and scooted closer to him. Murphy responded to her solace, placing his arm around her shoulders. Tiny tears gathered in the inner corners of her eyes. He gave her a light hug. Acceptance followed her arm around his waist. A smile from him would have been inappropriate instead, his heart fluttered. He drew her in closer as she buried her face into the side of his chest.
Carmichael entered from the private ME’s office door with a purposeful step and a precocious expression. The excited glint in his eyes seemed out of character.
Charley hid her face and wiped her eyes.
Murphy whispered into her hair. “I have a hunch this will be hinky.”
At the crime scene, Charley questioned the lack of strangulation marks around the victim’s neck. “Same here.”
They repositioned their stance as Carmichael made his way to the exam station. The ME settled across from them and tipped his hand. “Afternoon.” Eager, he waved his palms towards them. “You’ll love this.”
“Let’s hear it,” she said.
Carmichael’s eyes pinned them both. “Helium.” His gloved hands grasped the rim of the slab.
Charley’s mouth dropped. “You’re kidding.”
Murphy scratched his brow. “Helium? You mean the gas used for balloons?”
“Is there any other kind?”
“Helium can kill?”
“A new form of peaceful suicide,” Carmichael said. “More common every day.”
“How does it work?”
“Helium canisters are available at any party store.” Carmichael lifted the drape from the body, folding it across the chest. “Connect plastic tubing and an oxygen mask.”
“Why not use the car exhaust and hose method?”
“Death by that method is not as pretty as the entertainment industry depicts. Victims don’t fall asleep. It’s painful.” His finger directed their attention to Olivia’s face. “Facial capillaries burst, the eyeballs pop, the tongue becomes anamorphic, swells and protrudes causing the jaw to form in an unnatural position.”
“Sounds ugly, and helium?”
“Flawless and until recently undetectable. During the initial examination, we couldn’t find a cause of death. We ran every test possible. A lab tech suggested the killer pulled a ‘Walter White’. We tested for ricin, zero. I recalled a suicide case in South Carolina. The body is unremarkable, showing no external signs of poisoning, nothing. Helium is also environmentally friendly.”
Murphy shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Great, a green conscious killer.”
“How long did it take Olivia to die?” Charley said.
“After placing the mask over the airway while she slept,” Carmichael shielded his mouth, “unconsciousness occurred within seconds, and death in minutes.”
Murphy rubbed his forehead hard as he spun around, shaking his head. “This is just… poor baby.” He turned back around. “Tell me something. How do you know she died while asleep?”
Carmichael pointed at the victim’s eyes. “Sleep eye matter was present. No blood constriction in the nasal cavity, trachea, or lungs, and no muscle restriction to indicate an intense physical reaction, meaning no signs of struggle.”
“Helium. Our killer may be well-schooled in chemistry,” Charley said.
“Or someone who knows how to search the net,” Murphy said.
“The distilled water, was it present in her system as well?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he give them distilled water?” Murphy said.
Charley’s eyes shifted over the body. “Unsullied.”
“Unsullied?” Murphy said.
“The girls were clean, dressed i
n well-maintained clothing. There’s no sign of sexual abuse.” Charley played with her chin. “The perp placed them on a blanket. He didn’t want their bodies touching the ground.”
“Like a phobia, he goes to great lengths to avoid uncleanliness.”
“Automysophobia, fear of being dirty, but his fear lies with the girls, whether he’s self-practicing, I don’t know.”
“Interesting. He didn’t want their bodies touching the ground, helium being light, has a purity quality.”
Charley nodded. “In a twisted sense it may indicate he’s levitating them above the ground. He’s assisting them to heaven.”
Murphy directed his attention to Carmichael. “What about stomach contents?”
“She had a healthy meal of fish, fresh veggies, and skim milk. Perfect diet for a diabetic.”
“That is so… contradictory. What time did she eat dinner?”
“About nine in the evening. Three hours before her death.”
“He’s becoming more resourceful and shrewd,” she said. “He doesn’t like messy, suggests OCD.”
“Is he finished?” Carmichael said.
“He’s just getting started. We have no motive, which gives me nothing.” Charley shifted closer to the body and caressed Olivia’s cheek. “‘Little girls, like butterflies, need no excuse’. Robert A. Heinlein.”
“I say religion ties in,” Carmichael said.
“Let’s examine that,” Charley said. “Let’s explore this from a nihilistic point of view. Review from an outside perspective, disconnected from society or mankind, without religion or social values.”
“We find religions have as many differences as likenesses,” Murphy said.
“If we’re alien, we would view blind faith as a weakness. Something we’d use to conquer,” Carmichael said.
“As superior beings we would lay back, observe, and find what makes these individuals believe,” Charley said. “As aliens, we might assume man is so flawed he must seek redemption to define his worth.”
Carmichael shook his finger. “I like that. How does this relate to the children?”
“Guilt brought on by teachings. Theoretically, if one hasn’t been exposed, one doesn’t experience it.”
“Same as you don’t miss something you’ve never had,” Murphy said.
“Still doesn’t explain why the killer chooses children,” Carmichael said.
“Sure it does. Robin and Olivia are the catalysts for the killings to occur. The lowest form of murder is to kill a child. He’s punishing himself and possibly another party.” She waved her hands over the body. “There’s love here, perverted, but to him it is real. It’s obvious by how he displayed the girls. The care he took with them until their death. Afterwards, he wanted them to look pretty, untouched, almost martyred. It’s… romanticism in its purest form.”
“You make it sound so peaceful and respectful,” Murphy said.
“He was, by finding a simpler, less painful way for Olivia to die. The respectful position he placed them. He didn’t dump the little girls on the roadside or in a dumpster. He set the stage. There’s no hate involved, but love. He wants forgiveness.”
Carmichael crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t understand the religious connection.”
“Guilt, this goes back to the belief in ancestral sin.” Charley’s pace became methodical. “Without guilt, there is no sin.”
Murphy placed his hands on his hips. “Original sin. Martin Luther attested guilt occurs at the moment of conception.”
Charley’s face brightened. “However, something happened to him, which triggered this evil behavior. He’s channeling his guilt through the girls, which manifested due to love. He accepts his fate of being captured. Self-punishment. Robin and Olivia are the conduits.”
“What’s our next move?” Murphy said.
“We search outside who they are and what was used. This is a case of don’t study the victims, study what surrounds the victims.”
“The crime scene.” Murphy ran his hand from his crown to his neck. “Three dimensional layers.”
“Yes, and common sense is useless.”
“Doc, was Olivia given insulin?”
“Yes.”
“Where did he get it?”
“Insulin is obtainable if needed. The killer may be diabetic, or he’s close to someone who is.”
“I know at least four people who are diabetics,” Charley said.
“This goes back to my suggestion he is associated with the medical or pharmaceutical community. Maybe he’s in sales or distribution,” Murphy said.
“He caught a lucky break, otherwise Olivia would have died due to illness, and not by him.”
“Means Olivia talked to him. Unless he was familiar with the symptoms and took action. Seems strange he plans to kill her but managed her necessary healthcare.”
“He had no hate or animosity towards Robin or Olivia. He had no choice. His disconnect compelled his actions to end their lives. Killing the girls was compulsive. He must kill them or he becomes overwhelmed by anxiety. He’s impulsive and irrational about one particular thing. Whatever the trigger is, it controls him, he can’t escape.”
Murphy raised his hands in front of his chest. “Wait, this may be out there, but how about humiliation by girls in the school yard, cruel sisters, or rejected by a crush?”
Carmichael perked his shoulders. “I can think of a few ex-girlfriends who could drive a man to murder.”
Murphy and Charley laughed.
“Girl problems during your youth, Carmichael?” Murphy snickered.
“You can say that.” He grinned.
“What next, Char?”
“With regret, we attend another funeral.”
Chapter 19
Dirty Archives
Lorton, VA – Faraday Farms
Monday – 2 May – 3:23 PM
Hunched over the oak dining room table, Charley spread the building plans for the swingers’ club, Sirens and Studs across the surface. A cherry lollipop crammed in the side of her mouth, she studied the blueprints obtained from the county planning office. She twisted her shoulders and stood upright, crossing her arms over her chest. Pacing back and forth, she contemplated how to infiltrate the facility undetected. A utility ladder scaled the rear of the building leading to the roof. From there, use the maintenance door to access the main floor to the office. Charley shook her head, without a lookout, maneuvering her way through the building would be difficult. Sirens and Studs, a twenty-four-hour operation, employed several security personal.
An inquiring telephone call offered enough information to learn guards made rounds and posted in several areas throughout the facility. The establishment also possessed high-tech electronics, complete with cameras, infrared lasers, and ear-bursting alarms. Why would they need high-tech equipment? Charley pulled back the corner of her mouth, simple: politicians, judges, those so-called important people. The membership manifest would be an extortionist’s favorite fantasy.
She rolled the lollipop in her mouth, crunched the confection, and swallowed. Footsteps rambled in her direction, coming to a halt, Murphy pressed his shoulder against the doorframe, his arms, and ankles crossed.
Charley grabbed the corner of the blueprint and flipped it over. She teased her lips with her fingertips as her eyes scurried to make sure she hid the evidence.
His full lips crimped, Murphy arched an eyebrow. He pointed at the oversized document on the table. “Is that what I think it is?”
Charley lowered her chin and nodded.
Murphy pushed from the frame and sidled behind her. Hands on his hips, he leaned against her and placed his mouth to her ear. “I can’t believe you’re considering this.”
“Two dead children.” Her eyes remained forward. “I must do everything possible to find the killer.”
“Who’s your accomplice?”
She shook her head. The catch in her throat forced her voice to a whisper. “No one.” Charley took a step fo
rward toward the table edge. “I don't want to, but… I want to find out if there is a connection between Sirens and Studs and the swingers’ occult club in Berlin. I have little choice. If they are connected, there must be a trail. My guess, it's on the PC.”
Murphy remained behind her. His hands on her upper arms, he craned his neck and spoke into her ear. “I wish you would reconsider. It’s dangerous.”
“Not like I haven’t faced danger. The two of us are close friends.”
“You say that, but never explain it.”
Charley shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”
Still behind her, their bodies touching, Murphy squeezed her arms. He lowered his head close to hers. “How will we access the PC?”
Charley released a relieved sigh, dropping her head. “Thank you.” She glanced over her shoulder, smiling as she turned the blueprint over. “I'll talk with Ralph about some high tech equipment and gadgets.”
He turned her towards him. “Who's Ralph?”
“The man is an electronic genius. He can build or design anything.”
“Such as?”
“Powerful scanners that detect anything, such as hidden cams, recorders. I’m not sure what equipment is installed at the club.”
Murphy pointed at the schematic, plotting the office safe location. “How will we access the office?”
Charley placed her forefinger above his. “There.”
“The ventilation system.”
“The overhead shafts are eighteen by eighteen inches.” Charley pinned his eyes. “I'll fit.”
“You intend to go through the ductwork?”
“There's a ceiling intake vent in the office.”
“You’ll shimmy through the vent, drop into the office, grab the data and return.”
“Correct.” Charley indicated the space beside the office. “We have to have this specific room. There are two ventilations systems. Twenty years ago, this building went under major renovation. The management company sold it and the new owners converted it to an office building, which included a branch bank, into the swingers’ club.”
“Explains the wall safe.”