by R. L. Akers
Still...
"No," Gray forced himself to say. "I have no reason to suspect her."
The insurance investigator's eyes stayed on him for a moment, and he wondered if she was trying to parse his double-speak. If she was, she apparently decided to take him at face value. "Okay. I have to complete my own investigation, but... At this point, I see no reason to reject Mrs. Weiss's claim. Thank you for your assistance, Detective." She nodded at Gray, then acknowledged the other two men in turn before fleeing the room.
Notwithstanding Mack's reticence, the ME proceeded to draw the sheet away, revealing the rest of Edgar Weiss's mutilated body in all its gruesome glory.
Mack turned and retched.
"There's a reason I haven't cleaned up the first puddle yet," the ME told Gray, indicating Mrs. Weiss's pool of vomit, which Mack was now adding to.
"I heard that," Mack said, standing up and turning the crank on a nearby paper towel dispenser, then tearing off a length and wiping his face.
Gray's eyes were on the body... all thirteen pieces of it. Seeing a human person dismembered this way was nothing short of revolting. But as he'd come to expect, the emotional effect it exerted on him was much less powerful when filtered through his color-blind eyes.
"Cause of death was almost certainly these stab wounds in the chest and stomach," the examiner pointed out, "made with a large knife — most likely the one found in the barrel with the body."
"The one missing from Blake's belongings," Mack reminded Gray.
"As you can see," the ME continued, "the victim was then cut apart at each of the major joints — shoulders, elbows, hips, knees, and ankles — with the head separated from the torso at the neck. Additionally, the right hand has been separated at the wrist, though the left hand remains intact." He paused. "If you're going to dismember a body, these points offer less resistance than going through solid bone."
"How was the cutting done?" Gray asked.
"Impossible to say for sure," the ME responded. "Possibly with the murder weapon."
"A knife?" Gray said in surprise.
"It's a pretty big knife, with a saw blade on the reverse," Mack put in. "I'll show it to you when we get back to the precinct."
"Yes, but... Wouldn't that have taken forever?"
"It would have been a very tedious job," the ME agreed, "which is consistent with the amount of blood we found at the scene of the crime — I mean the first scene, in the office suite. Clearly the killer started cutting while the body was still warm, and it had plenty of opportunity to bleed out before he was done." He cleared his throat. "I inspected the knife, and its edge is in terrible shape, which is also consistent."
"That's it then," Gray said softly. "As much as I wanted to consider Mrs. Weiss, or even Mr. Weiss, they clearly weren't behind this. And no one else fits the evidence. Charles Blake is the only one that could have killed Edgar Weiss."
"Good," Mack said with evident relief, even managing a small smile as he studiously avoided looking in the body's direction.
"Just one more thing," the ME piped up. With gloved hands, he carefully turned the torso over to rest on its chest. "Check out this laceration on the victim's lower back."
Mack's smile vanished, but — steeling himself — he obeyed, focusing his attention fully on the wound while obviously trying to ignore everything else.
Gray inspected the strange cut as well. The mark had the shape of a crescent moon, about six inches in length, which then tapered off into a dragging squiggle. It looked to be a fairly deep cut, and it was very distinctive. "Okay, what about it?"
"The victim sustained this wound several days before he died; you can tell by the way it's scabbed over. It would have left a scar, since it wasn't stitched."
"And you think this laceration is significant?" Gray asked.
"I didn't, not at first. Cuts happen. There are lots of possible explanations, most of them innocent."
"So..." Mack said leadingly.
"Bear with me." The ME flipped the torso onto its back again, then pulled the sheet once more over the entire table. Without another word, he left the room. Gray shrugged and followed, and Mack soon joined them.
The ME led them to another room two doors down the hall. Entering, he promptly flipped back the sheet that covered another body.
Another dismembered body.
Mack recoiled, turning and very nearly retching once more. Even Gray felt himself wobble a bit as the stench assaulted him. The ME ignored the detectives, instead turning this torso over — to proudly display the exact same crescent-squiggle laceration.
"I don't get it," Gray said.
"Two bodies dismembered in almost identical fashion," the ME intoned with grim excitement, "exhibiting almost identical lacerations on their lower backs. This one more decomposed than the other, though it's hard to say how long dead. Do I have your interest now?"
"Where did this body come from?" Gray asked.
"Same place as the other. Two barrels of textile dye, side by side — one body in each."
"Have you ID'd this one?" Gray asked.
"That would be a little hard to do..." the ME said leadingly.
Gray saw it then. "The head is missing?"
"And all the fingertips. And because of the dye, DNA has been destroyed."
"Ah hell," Mack said softly.
Gray knew exactly what his partner was thinking. "This is going to complicate our case considerably."
"Ya think?"
Tuesday, September 8th
New York City
Unfortunately, even three weeks later, they had yet to come up with an explanation that explained both bodies.
It had now been a full month since Weiss's murder, almost that long since the bodies were recovered, and the NYPD had made no progress on determining the identity of the second victim. Gray and Mack had spent countless hours during that time trying to connect unexplained disappearances to Charles Blake or even to some other individual in the ATC office, but they'd made no connections.
Until the moment the ME had revealed that second body, Gray had been ready to conclude that Blake was indeed Weiss's killer, notwithstanding the little details that didn't add up, because it was simply the only explanation that fit the evidence. The presence of this second body complicated all of that, however. With just one body, the Blake narrative made sense; he murdered Weiss in a fit of rage, then cut up the body to smuggle it out. A crime of passion, then a carefully considered cover-up once reason had returned. But the presence of an older, more decomposed body, cut up in the same manner, sent that explanation flying out the window. If both victims had been killed by the same person, that suggested premeditation, and there was nothing premeditated about the Blake narrative.
Unfortunately, the district attorney's office didn't seem to follow the same train of logic. As far as they were concerned, there was no doubt that Blake killed Weiss; therefore it followed that Blake must have killed the other man too. But when the NYPD failed to turn up evidence connecting Charles Blake to the John Doe, the DA decided to move forward with prosecuting Blake for the first degree murder of Weiss alone.
And that meant pressure on Gray and Mack to formally close the Weiss case and relegate John Doe to the backburner. Pressure that Sergeant Hannah Goretti had been unable to resist.
"I don't want to give up on it either, man," Mack was saying from his desk adjacent to Gray's. "But what other option do we have? Even if we weren't under pressure from the DA, what other avenues of investigation remain open to us?"
Gray sighed, but he had to shrug. There really wasn't anything else they could actively pursue, even if they were open to considering someone other than Blake as the killer.
"That's it, then," Mack said. "For real this time. Case closed." And with unnecessary finality, he literally closed the folder and slid it into its place in the file cabinet.
What Gray didn't tell his partner was that there was at least one inactive avenue of investigation still remaining. He'd alr
eady quietly requested the necessary warrant from a judge he was on friendly terms with. Despite their good relationship, it was quite possible the judge would refuse, though Gray was hopeful. That said, even if the judge signed the warrant, it would be a matter of watching and waiting, possibly for months, with no guarantee that anything would turn up. It was something, though, and the only reason Gray was able to accept the closing of this case without more pushback.
He stood abruptly. "I think that's about all I can stomach for today," he told his partner. "See you tomorrow." And feeling both frustrated and discouraged, he left without awaiting a response.
Friday, December 11th
New York City
Grayson Gaynes exited the elevator outside the glass-walled entrance to Advanced Technology Consultants for the first time in almost four months... a spring in his step.
At his side, Patrick "Mack" McMurphy sighed heavily. "Here we go again."
Gray snorted. "You already know I'm right this time." After all, Mack had been there when they arrested Candy Weiss the day before. He'd heard the woman's tearful confession in its entirety.
"Let's just get this over with," Mack grumped, though Gray knew the older detective was just as eager as Gray for the confrontation to come. One way or another, they would finally learn the truth of what fate befell Edgar Weiss.
Gray produced his shield and tapped it against the glass, attracting the attention of the front desk receptionist, who quickly buzzed them in. Gray nodded his thanks, and the two detectives turned down the long, curving corridor towards Arnold DeLancy's office.
"Place is dead today," Mack remarked as they passed the large cubicle area at the center of the office suite. He was right. There were certainly a few people moving about, but it was hardly the bustling hive of activity Gray would have expected at this time of the afternoon.
They passed Charles Blake's old office along the way, stopping out of curiosity to peek within; the room had been gutted, right down to the carpet. Gray didn't recognize the name of the man whose nameplate now graced the door, and Judy Fairburn's desk sat empty, so they moved on, eventually reaching Arnold DeLancy's corner of the building. But his office was empty too, as was the desk of his assistant, Katy Cogan.
"Where is everyone?" Mack demanded.
"Staff meeting," someone said, and the detectives turned to see a young woman approaching down the corridor, in the opposite direction from which they'd arrived.
Gray would have known that face anywhere. Katy Cogan looked up and froze, only realizing after the fact who it was she'd spoken to. "This is Miss Cogan," Gray introduced her to Mack. "Miss Cogan, Detective McMurphy." Gray eyed the woman who reminded him so powerfully of Rose, his heart rate accelerating. "A staff meeting, you say?"
She slowly mastered her surprise. "Um, yes. In the break room. I was just on my way there. I'm... running a little late today."
"Everyone together in one place, huh?" Mack asked thoughtfully. "That should work very nicely."
Gray found himself agreeing. "We'll accompany you," he said, offering the young woman a polite smile.
"Okay," she said, still a little nervous.
Gray was more than a little nervous himself, though he tried hard to hide it, as much from Mack as from the girl. He hadn't seen her since that day after the murder, when they'd met at the restaurant. He'd thought a dozen times about calling her, maybe even asking her out, but that was stupid. There was no real connection here, just a meaningless attraction based on her physical resemblance to his dead wife. Besides, he hadn't yet laid this case to rest, and forming any kind of personal connection with her before doing so would have been foolish.
Clearing his throat, he made small talk as she led them toward the break room. "How've you been?"
She offered him a shy smile. "Alright, I guess. Company's not doing well, though." She lowered her voice. "Two rounds of layoffs so far. It was a real hit, losing both Mr. Weiss and Mr. Blake — or so Mr. DeLancy says." She shrugged. "I don't really care anymore, though. Today's my last day."
"Oh?" Gray asked.
"Yes! Starting a much better job next week. I just finished my graduate business degree. Been doing night school. Commencement's tomorrow."
"Congratulations," Gray said genuinely. "I had no idea."
"Yeah," she said. "Now I can start paying off all those student loans."
They reached the break room, and Mack gave Gray an odd sidelong look. Gray's conversation with the young woman had probably seemed overly familiar, but he wasn't concerned about it. He was happy for the girl. With her concerns about the ethics of ATC's business model, he knew she'd been unhappy here, and that was before the whole hellhound business.
She pulled open the door.
"Surprise!" several dozen voices shouted at once, and Gray reached instinctively for his weapon.
Katy Cogan stood dumbfounded as the assembled employees of Advanced Technology Consultants continued shouting, a jumble of congratulatory comments. Slowly, she moved into the room.
"About time you showed up," a steely-haired man said, appearing in the doorway to loom over her. "Just like you to be late for your own going-away party. What took you—" The man froze as he noticed Gray and Mack standing just behind her. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.
Gray had been right all those months ago. Even after so long, he had no trouble identifying Arnold DeLancy, despite his difficulty with faces. The company president's overbearing demeanor was just that recognizable.
Miss Cogan finally stepped inside the room, and Gray followed, Mack on his heels. The congratulatory calls of the girl's coworkers began to falter at the sight of the detectives. Gray took quick stock of the room and its occupants, who were packed in like sardines. A banner reading 'Congrats, Katy!' hung along one wall, no more than three feet long, sloppy markered letters on dot-matrix paper. There were cheap cupcakes arranged haphazardly on a nearby table, though not nearly enough of them for the assembled employees.
"Nice party," Mack said, his sarcasm evident.
"Well, Detectives?" DeLancy demanded. "You already nearly destroyed this company, arresting Charles Blake. What possible reason could you have for coming back?"
"Same reason as before," Mack said mildly. "To arrest Edgar Weiss's murderer — for real this time."
DeLancy began to sputter. "Wha—what? But—" He shook his head in confusion. "You said Blake was the one who killed Weiss and cut him up, making it look like the hellhound got him! The evidence was clear!"
Katy Cogan looked like she'd be ill at the mention of Weiss's mutilation.
"We know now that Mr. Blake is completely innocent in the matter of Edgar Weiss's death," Gray said. "A judge already ordered his release."
"But — how could he be innocent?" DeLancy demanded.
"Because someone else has been blackmailing Mr. Weiss's widow, and it didn't start until after Blake went to jail. That someone is the real murderer... and that someone is standing in this very room."
DeLancy looked thunderstruck. "Blackmail!"
The assembled employees began tittering at this exchange, gossiping fervently to their neighbors.
Gray collected his thoughts as he looked from face to face. His bravado notwithstanding, he would have to be very careful how he played this — because he wasn't yet sure who the real killer was. Were all his suspects even in attendance? DeLancy was, but what about Judy Fairburn, Lloyd and Boyd, even the other security guard Dipak Chaudhri... not to mention the VPs Gadding and Turrell? He had to hope they were all here, though of course he couldn't tell.
"Blackmail?" DeLancy exclaimed again. "What reason would anyone have for blackmailing Candy?"
Interesting. Either DeLancy was very quick on his feet, or he wasn't the killer. Most likely, the killer would be so surprised at their blackmail being discovered, he or she would forget to act confused that there was any reason to blackmail Mrs. Weiss.
"Because," Gray answered DeLancy, "Candy Weiss conspired to commit i
nsurance fraud... by helping her husband Edgar fake his own death."
The room exploded with exclamations of shock and confusion.
"So... Mr. Weiss is alive?" someone asked.
Mack snorted. "No."
Ed Weiss had done most of the work of faking his death, but his wife was fully complicit, and that was reason enough for the widow to pay off the blackmailer. Her own part in the conspiracy had been very small: establish a firm alibi by traveling to the spa for the weekend; implicate Charles Blake as the last person to see her husband alive; identify her husband's body double when it was eventually discovered. Since that body was missing head, teeth, fingers, and even DNA, she was supposed to do this by recognizing the distinctive laceration on his back, even pointing the detectives toward hospital records of the accident that caused it. Unbeknownst to the ME at the time of the autopsy, Weiss had been to the ER to have that cut treated, though he'd refused stitches. He did this for the express purpose of establishing independent proof that corroborated his wife's identification of the body... before carefully carving an identical cut into the back of his body double, post-mortem.
It was a complicated and audacious plan. Unfortunately for Ed Weiss, after he went to so much trouble convincing the world he was dead, someone else came along and finished the job — which was why there were two bodies floating in chemicals at that old textile factory. And unfortunately for Candy Weiss, the real killer hadn't stopped at killing her husband.
"Starting in October, Mrs. Weiss began making thousand-dollar cash withdrawals once a month," Gray explained to the room at large. "Normally, no one would have thought anything of that, it's so far below the threshold for banks to report suspicious activity. But in this case, we already had a warrant in place to monitor her banking activity. We confronted Mrs. Weiss yesterday, and she made a full confession." She'd seemed almost ready to, in fact, the details of her confession spilling out in a torrent of words.
"From the very beginning," Mack took up the thread, "the Weisses' plan was to fake his death and frame Charles Blake for it, collecting on life insurance in the process and eventually moving out of the country once the dust settled. But then something went wrong, and Mr. Weiss was actually killed."