CHAPTER SIX
"So this is the crime scene?" May said, in shocked tones, as they pulled up outside the unused warehouse on the industrial side of Springfield.
She and Owen climbed out of the car, and approached the area, which was still taped off even though it had been fully searched a week ago.
May could see the scorch marks lashing up the walls, huge black streaks with areas of missing brickwork and gaps in the northern wall.
At one stage, she guessed that the warehouse had been locked with the same solid steel door that she could see on others across the road. Only this door was in tatters, the metal warped and buckled, with a huge hole blown in it.
May shivered as she approached, unable to stop her imagination from picturing what must have played out, and the violence of the blast. Her only consolation was that, undoubtedly, Sheila would have died instantly. But she must have been in terror for days beforehand. What kind of mindset did you have to possess to keep a woman trapped here, while setting up such a complex, evil way to murder her?
"This guy is sick, seriously twisted," Owen muttered, and May knew he was thinking along the same lines as she was.
"It's hard to think of anything worse, isn't it," she said.
"I guess there are no working cameras in the area," Owen said.
May shook her head. "No. I read the police report, and despite intensive research, they said they couldn't obtain any camera footage, and they had no idea what vehicle was used to bring her here. So that's a dead end unfortunately."
The area was so quiet it felt spooky. The only noise was the faraway sound of traffic crossing the highway bridge, and the closer rattle of sheet metal being disturbed by the afternoon breeze.
May paced around the outside of the warehouse, feeling her spine tingle at the sight of the scorch mark, and the hole in the door.
"I think he must have planned this whole scenario very carefully," she said. "This location was well chosen, and he would have paid the same attention to making sure that he didn't pass any cameras."
She stepped carefully under the tape and walked inside the warehouse, blinking in the sudden darkness. May held her breath, and tried hard to ignore the smell.
She took a look around, imagining what this prison might have been like for the criminal lawyer in her last days, hoping that by some chance there would be a shred of evidence that had not yet been picked up. But there didn't seem to be anything in this empty, desolate place to lead them any further.
The devastation was too complete to think that anything useful could be found.
On the side of the warehouse was a smaller, secure storeroom that the police determined was where Sheila had been held. May stared at the base of the walls where the scorch marks were particularly dark and vicious.
It was hard to imagine what it must have been like for Sheila, having to be imprisoned here. The room was tiny, a miniature prison within the larger warehouse, with a single window set high up in the wall, with a steel mesh covering it. The police report had stated that it had been previously used to store valuable electronic items that had to remain overnight within the warehouse. The killer must have done his research and known this room existed.
May was deeply disappointed not to find more, but she was not surprised. Forensics had already combed the area for clues, so what would be left?
She turned to look out at the warehouse yard, a rectangular lot that had been paved with rammed gravel. Big, concrete pillars had been installed, long ago, to support a walkway overhead. Metal girding, now rusted and discolored, and flaking, stretched across the roof.
Then she looked up, at the warped doorframe.
"There must have been a video camera attached there," she said, noticing the remains of a bracket on the wall, and three screw marks.
"Yes, they mentioned a ruined camera in the list of evidence. Unfortunately it was so damaged that they couldn’t clearly identify which brand it was, or trace it back further. It was found on the far side of the warehouse. But you’re right, it must have been mounted here to begin with," Owen said. "I doubt a camera like that would have survived in an unused warehouse without being stolen, so I guess that might mean that he put it up. Perhaps he was using it to monitor her and make sure she didn’t escape?”
“Or perhaps he used it to film the explosion. If he was monitoring her, he could have removed it before he set the blast."
May shook her head, appalled by having to even voice such an idea. She cringed away from what it would take to do that. At least this told her more about this person, as much as she didn't want to explore his mind.
But she knew she had to.
He was someone who gloried in what he did, she decided. There was an element of pride, of satisfaction, in the fact that he was actually filming these scenes.
"He must be keeping the footage," she said. "And that will mean that if we can find him, he’ll have evidence stashed somewhere. It's a sign of carelessness. The first sign we’ve seen, I guess. He's not covering his tracks completely if he's keeping a record."
"Our first sign of something we can use to get him," Owen said, sounding more encouraged. But May knew that there was still a long way to go.
"He's sneaky, sly, and clearly very knowledgeable. We're dealing with a smart killer here, a planner, with an evil mind."