“Go Avenger. Maybe next he’ll get a child molester or baby killer.”
“No, man. He needs to get the drug pushers and gang members first. Then he can go after the other perverts.”
“I don’t know how he gets his dick hard enough to do this much damage. I have to admit, it gives me satisfaction to see some of these assholes finally get their due. Looks like he scared the crap outta these two.”
“Gentlemen,” Henrietta said, making her voice as cold and hard as steel. She knew anger showed in her expression, but she didn’t give a damn. “If you’ll excuse me, we have work to do here.”
Deputies Tom Hinks and Bob Jeffords were glad to escape her glacial green glare. They crept out of the room away from the ME’s wrath to continue their discussion. They joked about starting a pool to see how many more criminals the Avenger would get before he made a mistake and was arrested. Or moved on.
Henrietta and Harold set to work gathering evidence. As Harold took pictures, gathered the pieces of glass and other items and placed them in marked bags, Henrietta examined the first of the two bodies.
Harold asked, “What’s that weird odor, Henri? Something smells odd over here.”
“Just vomit, urine and excrement.”
“No, it’s something else, and it’s stronger on this side of the room. What is it?” Harold persisted, as he sniffed here and there.
Henrietta walked to the other victim, sniffed the putrid air and caught the strange odor. “It’s familiar, but I can’t place it. The name tickles my brain, but I can’t seem to identify it.” She felt a lump on the back of one victim’s skull. “He must have been struck with something hard. But how did our killer knock out the other guy? I suppose he surprised and disabled them one at a time.”
Henrietta went to the second victim. “There’s no lump anywhere on his head. That odd smell lingers but is dissipating with time and door openings.” Perplexed by the scent, Henrietta saw a white mark on the black man’s oily skin. She leaned over to examine it closely. “I think the Avenger just made his first mistake. Maybe we can get a print off of this one. Harold, come over here and take a picture and print of this.”
After the photo was taken, he dabbed a liquid over the scratch and surrounding area. He pressed special tape across it to make an impression, so the solution wouldn’t interfere with the fingerprinting.
Henrietta continued to examine both bodies and instructed Harold to pay close attention to anything that might be suspicious. “I’ll let you process that infuriating reporter. Bag his shoes and clothes; he can cover himself in a blanket and the sheets from one of the police cars. Get hair, skin and saliva samples. And his dang fingerprints. Since he may have corrupted our crime scene and screwed with the evidence, he had best not refuse to cooperate. Tell him, if he does, I’ll have him arrested until we can obtain a search warrant to go over him thoroughly. Oh, Harold, stress thoroughly, as in fecal specks in his penis folds. I want his film, because I’m sure he took pictures before we got here. And don’t forget nail scrapings.” Of course, there aren’t any at the lab for comparison, you sly devil.
“Yes, ma’am. Anything else, boss?”
“That ought to do it.”
“No sperm sample?” Harold asked.
“No warrant or justifiable reason to demand one. We can demand certain things to eliminate an intruder, but he isn’t a suspect of record. Let’s get busy so we can get these bodies into cold storage before the stench is worse,” Henrietta muttered. “Experiencing what their victim or victims endured, I wonder if these thugs felt any twinge of conscience before they died.”
Harold glanced over the men’s brutalized bodies and said, “I doubt it. But as the Avenger says, ‘Justice is served.’”
Henrietta would report her findings to Mory and Dan along with the news of Starr’s prior appearance on the scene. She reasoned that there was no need to page them at this hour. They couldn’t get back from Lake Hartwell before these bodies would require moving for closer exams, lab tests and cold storage. She surmised Dan was going to be really pissed off when he heard what had happened here tonight.
Chapter Twelve
Sunday noon, July 15th
“Man, it’s good to be home,” Dan mumbled as he unlocked the deadbolt. He picked up the paper and entered the front door. He tossed it on the coffee table and walked his overnight bag to the bedroom. “I’m not doing a damn thing until I take a long, hot shower. I still smell like fish and a barrel of sweat.”
After he finished, Dan lay down on his bed, intending to rest for a few minutes. Exhausted mentally and physically, he drifted into a fast and deep slumber.
Two hours later, he awoke refreshed and looked at the clock. It was three PM. He’d get a bite to eat and call Andrea to see if she was back from her trip to visit an old classmate in North Carolina. Maybe she’d like some company for dessert. As visions of her naked body covered in whip cream danced through his mind, Dan unfolded the Sunday paper and stared at its front page.
“Holy shit!” There were large pictures on the first page of two males strapped to separate beds. Black censor dots covered their nakedness, but it was easy to see they were tied to the beds spread-eagle. Even through the fuzziness of the paper, he could make out cuts and burns on their backs.
Dan read the entire article twice. He winced as he learned the details of the female’s rape and torture and the matching ordeal that these two men had endured. He felt certain the facts were accurate in the article.
How had James been able to dig up all that information? By the time the bodies were discovered, he wouldn’t have had much time to write the article in order to meet the deadline for the morning edition. Or had he already known the details and simply had to turn it in to the paper? Dan didn’t bother to check his answering machine; he knew it would be full. He also knew if he and Mory had gone to nearby Clarks Hill as usual, instead of to the distant Lake Hartwell, they would have been summoned to the murder scene while it was fresh and bodies were still present. He much preferred to investigate an area before any of the evidence was moved or tampered with, to view the actual scene as the assailant had left it.
Dan tossed aside the paper with its grisly details and called the Captain. He nearly dropped his extension when Neal told him that James Starr had been the one who called in the murder. He heard the anger and frustration in his boss’s voice as they discussed the case and the lack of evidence.
Afterward, Dan called Mory and repeated his conversation with Captain Bolton. He learned that his partner had fallen into bed as he had without reading the paper. They made plans to connect in thirty minutes, then Dan called the Lab.
Henrietta answered on the first ring. “Hey, Dan. Sorry you missed this one. The officers on the scene, Jeffords and Hinks, didn’t do much more than stand around and make bad jokes. Harold and I bagged the evidence and brought it to the lab. I’m going to do the autopsies in the morning; there’s been too much going on today for me to concentrate enough to do an accurate job. Both of them have the same needle mark on the inner elbow. Come by in the afternoon and I’ll give you a report.”
“Thanks, Henri.”
“There’s something else that I thought was rather strange.”
“What’s that?”
“There were no cigarette butts on the floor. We already have the DNA from his semen, so I can’t think of any reason they weren’t left. Unless there was more than one person there. Maybe two people were needed to subdue both of them. I did find something that might help you out, though. We’ll run the final tests in the morning, but your Avenger left a nail print on one of the victims.”
“A nail print? What about fingerprints, Henri? Did you get any?”
“The preliminary tests don’t show any, but I haven’t had much time to do any more. I know the Avenger knocked one of them over the head, and gave the other one chloroform. Must have spilled some because the smell still hung faintly in the air. You ought to add that to your list of chemicals t
o check out. It isn’t readily available to the general public, either.”
“Henri, you’re a godsend. I’d marry you if you weren’t already taken.”
“Better watch out, Mallory. Words like that from you could convince the strongest woman to defect.”
Dan chuckled as he replaced the receiver. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door to pick up Mory, and then find Starr.
Sunday night, July 15th
“The Avenger likes the stories I’ve been writing and he wants everybody to know his reasons for doing these deeds. That’s why he called me, not you,” Starr informed Dan and Mory forty-five minutes later.
“Why is he doing it? How does he select his victims? How does he get the details of the charges against them? Why didn’t you call the police immediately? What if he’d still been there, waiting to rip you a new asshole? You tampered with evidence, Starr. I should arrest you,” Dan replied. He was angry with himself for taking time off with this psycho running loose.
“Slow down, Mallory. One question at a time. I took pictures before I reported it, that’s all. That’s why he tipped me off; he wanted people to know what these brutes did and got away with, since you boys are concealing the truth from the public. I didn’t steal or destroy any evidence. I’m not stupid; I was very careful. Just ask Ms. Henri. She and her partner took my shoes and clothes and samples. I had to come home in a tee shirt, blanket, and barefoot. And take a second shower. She can tell you I’m not the Avenger and has the evidence to prove it. All I hid from her was a roll of film I needed for today’s story.”
“Did you provide a sperm sample to rule you out as a suspect?”
“Nope. Wasn’t asked to give one. And if you ask, the answer is no. I can’t trust you all not to frame me with it. This is a big one, so I plan to cash in on it and ride it to the top for all it’s worth. Maybe he’ll call again and answer those questions for us. If so, you can read about it in my column. I gave you the chance to cooperate on this case, but you refused. The offer still stands, Mallory, any time you want to compare notes.”
As Dan shook his head and scowled, James grinned and continued, “After I saw the bodies and got those creeps’ names, it was quick and easy to get their victim’s name and case info. The paper has a morgue, too, you know? This Avenger must be strong to overpower two men at once. He still didn’t leave you any clues to his identity either, did he? I’d surely like to meet him and do an interview. That would be my ticket out of this blasted inferno. If you’ll give me the exclusive when he’s captured, I’ll pass along any information I come across until then.”
“There’s one point you overlooked, Starr; the police didn’t reveal some of the details of the old crimes to the public. How did you learn about them?”
“Like I said, Mallory, I have my sources.”
“The same ones the Avenger has?”
“I doubt it, but I would like to know how he chooses his victims and gets his information. When you figure that out, you’ll have your big break, won’t you, Mallory? Besides, you and the other detectives confirmed my suspicions when I asked about the methods of torture. I’m good at withdrawing information, even from unwilling sources. It’s my job; it’s what I do. And do best.”
“I still say your contact could be the killer or know something about him. If so, you’d be withholding evidence, not protecting your source. I wonder how much you’d enjoy your big break from behind bars. You’ll be a virgin asshole there, just like those bastards were before the vigilante got to them. Tell me, Starr, how did the killer sound over the phone, young or old, white or black, educated or redneck, any accent, any background noises, anything revealing? Do you know the number he called from? Did you record the call?”
“He woke me from a deep sleep, so I was groggy. He spoke fast and low, but I didn’t notice anything special about the way he talked. I wrote the number down and the call came from the house where the men were killed. Since I was in bed, I didn’t have a recorder nearby. If I had, that tape would be worth a fortune to me. Now that I’ve shared with you, how about you share with me? Anything?”
“Sorry, but this is a police matter, so stay out of our way.”
“If you’ll do the same, Mallory. You were tailing me the other night. That can be called an invasion of privacy or police harassment.”
“Don’t go there, Starr. You’d be very sorry once I’m done with you.”
“Is that a threat, Lieutenant? I should’ve had my recorder going for that one. Maybe I should keep it in my pocket.”
Dan surmised that Starr’s pocket held a small recorder, as this reporter was too clever and careful not to carry one. “Don’t try me, Starr. You’ll never make it to my league, even with this Avenger story.”
“Please be Andi; it’d be nice just to hear her voice,” Dan mumbled as he got up to answer the phone. After they talked for a while about personal matters, he told her about the double murder, Henrietta’s discovery of the nail print and chloroform. He divulged the reporter’s presence at the scene and Henrietta’s thorough examination of Starr’s belongings. He was feeling much better already, talking it all out with her. “Damn that smartass! I hope he is tangled up in this case. I’d like to take him down a few notches.”
“Much as I dislike and distrust him, Dan, maybe he told the truth. Maybe the killer is trying to frame him.”
“I’m having him watched. I wish I could tap his line to see who calls and what he says, but I don’t have the evidence to support a wiretap. I also wish I had reasonable cause to wring a sperm sample from him. Enough about all of that. How was your trip?”
“It was fun, but exhausting. How many fish did you and Mory catch? Or are you going to tell me about the big one that got away?”
“Enough to have a fish fry this weekend. You have any plans?”
“None.”
“Great. I’ll let you know which night as soon as I talk to Mory tomorrow. I want to make up for this weekend. Besides, I’ve missed you. Can I come over for a little while if I promise not to keep you up too late?”
“Dan, I’m sorry, but it’s already late. I’m exhausted and tomorrow’s a full day. Why not come over after work tomorrow? We’ll both be in better moods and have more energy by then. Okay?”
“Sure. Tomorrow it is. See you around seven.”
“Good night, Dan.”
“Good night, Andi. I’m glad you’re back home safe and sound.”
Monday morning, July 16th
“The Avenger needs a new pair of gloves, Dan. One finger must have a hole in it. He left a nail mark on one hip, or more like a cut that broke the skin. On black flesh, it made a white scratch. From the way the nail dug in so deep, he needs a good trim. It was still visible when I got there. Not much to go on, but it might help later with a bluff during questioning. Harold made a tape impression and photo of it. About all I can tell from it is that his nails are rounded on the edges, rather sharp and jagged, and that finger is small. Probably a pinky from the nail size. Nobody with small hands could overpower strong men, especially two of them. I’d say he dug in good and hard while trying to hold his victim when he penetrated his rectum. I don’t think it was from Starr; his hands are well-manicured, but not impossible. He could have smoothed out a rough edge before Harold saw his hands. His hair was dry but it had been very recently shampooed. But his hair, skin, and nails were of no use since the Avenger hasn’t left any for comparisons. Nothing useful on his clothes or shoes, but they were fresh and clean, and he was careful where he stepped and what he touched. I can’t prove that was his first or second trip to the crime scene. Just as I can’t prove he made the phone call to himself or had his stoolie do it.”
“Anything else?”
“I think Tanner was taken first and alone because it was his place. I don’t see how our perp could have gotten control of two men if Cantrell was already there. From what I saw, I think Otis Tanner was overpowered somehow, forced to call Cantrell over, then disabled with chloroform. Ei
ther a lot was spilled or the bottle was left open a long time. Harold smelled it first when he went to that side of the room to take pictures. The house was hot and stuffy and the crime scene was fresh, so it still hung in the air when we got there. That could be how he disables all of his victims. I think Cantrell was struck over the head when he walked in and was dragged to the bed from the scuffmarks we saw. There were blood spatters on the floor, but the vigilante and Starr avoided stepping in them. No smears. Same’s true of the broken glass, so neither man should have fragments in their soles. Actually, we know Starr doesn’t. The perp collected his cigarette butts, so we don’t have any saliva or lip tissue samples or a brand name for clues. This guy is so clever, thorough and methodical that it makes me suspect he left that nail mark on purpose, just like he leaves his sperm for some reason I haven’t determined. Harold got you plenty of pictures. The causes of death probably will be the same as the others, lethal injections of potassium chloride.”
“You’re the best, Henri. Is that all?”
“As I told you, Harold collected samples from our ever-present James Starr to eliminate any he might have left in the room, since he was there before the room was sealed. So far, no matches to anything from other crime scenes.”
“I’m shocked he didn’t refuse or make a big production out of cooperating. Unless he wasn’t sure if he cleaned it all up so he decided to phone it in himself so that any evidence you found linking him to the scene could be easily explained away.”
“As I said, he did look and smell of a recent shower.”
“Son of a bitch! I’m gonna nail his ass to the wall if he had anything to do with this!”
“I still say the Avenger is left handed from the slants of the cuts and burns. The lab boys didn’t find a single strange fingerprint. There weren’t any pubic or body hairs that didn’t belong to the victims. No strange clothing fibers, nothing, not even from Starr. I’m sorry.”
“I appreciate all you did while we were out of town.”
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