CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Twenty minutes ago, Ella had watched Calvin Hammerstone limp into the interrogation room, and now she was watching him limp back out again. She stood beside the one-way glass after Paige’s solo interrogation with the man, the marks that his so-called therapist had left on his backside in full view through his white shorts. Calvin regarded Ella with an embarrassed stare, the kind of stare reserved for strangers who’d caught you in the act of extreme domination play.
She’d let Paige start the proceedings alone, with plans to jump in once they’d got word from forensics about the shoes in Calvin’s house. However, all of their questions were answered right away. Calvin Hammerstone was a deviant, and in the eyes of many, a pervert.
But he was not a murderer.
Paige joined her, disappointment dogging her every step. She’d lost all that gusto she had an hour ago, now a soulless husk of discontent and frustration. Ella knew the sensation well, but she wasn’t about to validate her feelings. The truth was somehow within grasp. It always was. They just needed that little push that tipped them in the right direction.
Paige put her hands on her hips but couldn’t look her partner in the eye. “That was… something.”
“That’s a story you’ll tell your grandkids. Maybe once they’re old enough.”
“Yeah, when they’re about thirty-five. Did you hear those things?”
Ella had heard it all, winced at it all. Calvin had spared no details, no matter how extreme or disturbing. Even with all the atrocities she’d seen in this job, she was still amazed at how far people were willing to push the limits of the human body. She wasn’t a prude by any means, but there were some things you had to say no to.
“Oh, I heard it alright.”
“I didn’t know you could stretch that-,”
Ella cut her off at the pass with a wave of the hand. “Ellis. Stop. Different strokes. That’s what we need to remember.”
As it turned out, the answers were clear-cut. Calvin Hammerstone had indeed been an escort abuser, but after his stint in prison, he discovered a new outlet for his rage. Instead of giving abuse, he found out that receiving it was much more satisfying. He just paid a professional for the privilege.
Calvin had three solid alibis. He was working overtime on the nights of Cassie and Teri’s murder, and was at a BDSM club during Kate’s murder. PD had verified them while he was in the interrogation room.
The shoes were just another one of his personal kinks. Ella believed it, as none of them belonged to the victims.
Calvin Hammerstone, and his leather-clad therapist, offered them nothing. No new leads. No clandestine avenues to explore. It was a dead end.
“What now?” Paige asked, looking into the interrogation room as though a suspect might magically appear inside.
Ella checked her phone and found a message from the director.
I need updates. Being hounded day and night. Call me ASAP.
Up until now, she’d never had to answer to the director about the status of ongoing cases. That had always been Ripley’s job. Now she understood why she hated it. The director didn’t just want a ‘it’s going well’ or ‘we’re making progress.’ He wanted solid, verifiable information that he could feed back to other officials.
“Not sure, but I need to make a call. I’ll just be outside.”
Ella excused herself, made her way out of the precinct, and out into the parking lot. She used the opportunity to catch a quick breather before making her call.
She found the name in her phone and pushed the button.
“Dark,” the woman said after two rings. “Tell me things are going good down there?”
“No, Ripley, they’re not. We’ve had three good suspects and they’ve all got airtight alibis. I’m getting desperate, and trying to stay positive in front of the rookie.”
“Rookie,” laughed Ripley. “It’s strange hearing you say that. But why don’t you talk me through the case? A new perspective might help.”
“Are you okay to talk? You’re not busy?”
“Busy? I’m in a hospital bed and modern TV is awful. If I see another reality show about house renovations I’m going to kill someone. I’ve got nothing else to do, so give me everything you got.”
Ella covered everything from start to finish. The victims’ names, ages, locations, jobs, physical traits. She explained the situation with the severed legs, the evolution from strangulation to throat-slitting, from cutting with a hacksaw to using an electric bone saw. The bizarre ritual of leaving the previous victim’s leg at the following crime scene. She told Ripley about the killer waiting in the attic at Teri Harper’s apartment and hiring Kate Sutton’s escort services.
Ripley went quiet once she had all the details.