CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Outside St. Paul’s Church, Ella took a second to contemplate. The sight of the victim gripped her hard and didn’t let go. Death, she felt, deserved a moment of stillness, no matter the victim’s qualities. Ella did this not out of any sense of spirituality or abstract respect for the dead. No, it was for herself, so that her heart would resist turning to stone.
The mutilated remains of a naked woman lay between an archway that led into the cathedral, face-down. Ella couldn’t get a good look at her face, but it was clear that her throat had been slashed, just like Kate Sutton’s. Her leg had been removed, again with near-surgical accuracy. Likely with an electric saw.
And Kate Sutton’s leg, complete with ankle bracelet, lay against the archway. The pattern continued.
“Different, again,” Paige said beside her.
It was 5pm and the sun was beginning to descend. Dusk was a few heartbeats away, and Ella felt as though this corpse’s existence was the reason for the oncoming darkness.
They’d beaten the forensics team here so they were the first officials to witness the body for themselves. A teacher from the nearby school had called it in on her way home from work.
“Different by design,” Ella said, her new theory still running wild.
Reed approached them after having interviewed the witness who found the body.
“Poor woman. She’s shaken up like crazy,” he said.
“What do we know about the victim?” Ella asked, desperate to check if her theory held any weight in light of new events.
“Irene Quimby. 42 years old. French teacher at St Paul’s High just over there.”
Ella mulled over the details, committing them to memory. Irene, 42, French teacher. Ella held still, sensing a revelation on the horizon.
Then it came. One of these pieces of information ignited a spark in the back of her brain. Twisting, burning, begging her to see it.
Something connected, awakening that feeling she associated with success. Ella’s heart rate doubled in speed, but she calmed herself, reminding herself of her recent failures. Don’tjump right in. Think about it. Make sure it’s airtight, she told herself.
“What was she doing? Walking home?” Paige asked.
Reed nodded to the silver Prius about ten feet away. “Walking to her car. That’s hers over there.”
Ella went over and checked out the vehicle. She tried the handles. Locked. Then peered in and inspected the contents inside. Nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. A pile of essays, never to be marked. A coffee flask. An old mp3 player.
However, she already had her answer regarding her theory.
On the driver’s side door, Ella spotted a small scratch, a few flecks of paint still hanging off.
“He was parked here,” she said. “He damaged her car door. Probably as a way to get her attention. We need to check CCTV around here, see if we can spot him.”
“Why has he done this one in public, Ella?” Paige asked. “All the others have been indoors, private. How did he even pull this off?”
Beside the car, Ella saw the specks of blood camouflaged against the dark slabs. Not a noticeable amount, but enough to get a profiler’s attention. Most people would pass it by without a glance.
“There are bloodstains here, but they’re confined to this one area. They don’t lead towards the church.”
“How’s that possible?” Paige asked. “He must have dragged her over here at some point.”
“Her heart had stopped pumping blood by then. That suggests he killed her and cut off her leg right here. This is both the murder site and the disposal site. Pretty ballsy move. It shows how confident he’s become.” Their unsub had reached his invincible stage. It usually started around the fourth kill.
But Ella was convinced they had him nailed.
“In the back of his car, maybe?” Reed asked. “Could he have killed her in there?”
“Almost certainly,” Ella replied. “That means his car is doused in blood and chunks of flesh. Get your guys to check car washes, impound garages, rivers, anywhere someone might try and cover their tracks. Maybe get sniffer dogs in the area too, but he might have removed her body from the trunk before decomposition set in. Even so, dogs would be able to trace it.”
“On it,” Reed said as he clicked on his radio. He relayed the information to the person on the other end. At the same time, two blue vans pulled up along the nearby road, and within seconds the area was surrounded with yellow crime scene tape. Not that it really needed it since the area was so deserted. If anything, the tape would just draw attention, Ella thought.