The Devil's Water: Scenic City Murder Series #1 (4 page)

“Not in the conventional sense, maybe. Look, he had Macy for a very short period of time. He got out of her what he wanted and threw her away. With Monica, he had held her longer. He had gotten to know her and, even though he killed her, he wanted to pose her. He didn’t just want to dump her out like yesterday’s trash.” Tasha explained.

She listened for a full thirty seconds to silence on the phone.

“Well, Monica Balzer’s body is with the medical examiner now. You wanna go over and see what we can find out?”

“Of course. Come get me. I’m in the criminal justice building.” Tasha said and signed off.

The sun shone brightly as Tasha strolled out of the Criminal Justice building and looked for Clutch’s car. She shielded her eyes from the glare and finally spotted it across the parking lot. She held up one arm to motion him closer but, as luck would have it, he wasn’t looking in her direction. “Shit”, she whispered to herself and began the hike across the hot concrete. When she reached her destination, she was sweating profusely. Popping open the car door she flung herself into the front seat.

“Hot?” Clutch asked as he looked at her smiling.

“Damn, it’s like wind blowing off an oven out there.”

Clutch turned the AC up to max and punched the accelerator.

“Keep in mind this is a 25 mile speed zone.” Tasha said as she noticed the needle moving to 40 miles an hour.

“Relax. I’m a cop.”

“Hey, even cops can hit and kill people.”

Clutch slowed the car down and glanced over at her. “You’re right. I’m not in the business of killing people.” He chuckled. “But I’d like to catch that son of a bitch who is.”

“He should’ve been aborted before he ever came into the world.” Tasha replied.

“Well, if he’s in his 40’s, it was illegal back then and they should’ve kept it that way.”
“What?” Tasha’s eyes opened wide. “You’re not telling me you’re pro-life, are you?”

Clutch nodded his head. “Yep. Always have been.”

“You mean to tell me after an entire career with the police department and seeing the neglect and abuse to children that you’ve seen you’re not pro-choice?” Tasha was shocked.

“Look, I believe everybody deserves a chance. Even embryos.” Clutch replied. “Besides, I was raised Catholic. It’s against my religion.”

“Damn, Clutch! God is pro-choice!”

“Don’t say that. That’s blasphemous.”

“Look, if God was pro-life, why did he give us miscarriages? I mean, a miscarriage is a God abortion.”

“Tasha, don’t say that. It’s sacrilege.”

Tasha glanced over at Clutch. The muscles in his jaw were working overtime. He always did that when he was good and pissed. Tasha knew she better change the subject fast.

“Man, it’s a hot one. When’s the weather supposed to give us a break?”

“Not gonna let up ‘til the end of the week. It’s gonna rain. Maybe we’ll catch a break then.” Clutch answered.

He turned the wheel to the right and entered a huge parking deck. “We’re here.” He said simply as he took a ticket and the electronic bar raised up to grant them passage. He moved the car through the dimly lit deck and found a space. Clutch pulled in and parked. “Grab your shit and let’s git.” He said in an over the top southern drawl. Tasha grabbed her purse and opened her car door. Parking decks gave her the creeps. She was glad she had her .38 tucked safely in her pocketbook.

As they reached the door, Clutch opened it and Tasha walked through. Right away, Tasha was struck by the fact that the building was so simple and sterile. She could smell bleach solution and noticed a janitor down the hall mopping the floor. The click of her high heels echoed as she walked down the corridor. Tasha had allowed Clutch to take the lead since he was the only one of the two of them to have the slightest idea where they were going. She followed Clutch for what seemed like an hour as they worked their way down one hallway after another coming to countless doors.

Finally, they reached their destination. “Here it is.” Clutch said as he put his hand on the doorknob and turned it.

Tasha walked through the doorway and Clutch followed behind her. Inside, there was a plump, pleasant looking man standing beside an autopsy table. He glanced up as he heard the door close.

“Ah yes. Lieutenant Mclutcheon! So good to see you again!”

Clutch walked over and shook the man’s hand. “Dr. Limmel, I would like you to meet Tasha Yoder. She’s ex-FBI and she is assisting on the case.”

Tasha offered her hand to Dr. Limmel as he smiled and took it. “Lovely to meet you, Ms Yoder.” He held out his hand to usher them to the table.

“Now, as you can see, I’ve done some preliminary examination.” Limmel stated as he drew the autopsy drape back from Monica Balzer. “You see here, she has ligature marks on both her wrists and ankles. Of course, she had been tied down.”  

Tasha watched as the pudgy fingers of Dr. Limmel worked their way up and across the body.

“Now, in the face, she has severe petechial hemorrhages and facial congestion. This would indicate strangulation.” He looked up at the both of them to make sure they were paying attention.

“Yes.” Tasha offered, hoping he would continue.

“Indeed, strangulation was the cause of death.” Limmel concluded. “In regards to my initial examination at the scene, body temp indicated she had been dead approximately 9 hours.”

He brought the autopsy drape up covering her face once again and then lifted the drape from the bottom to expose her genitals. “Now, here we see that there was considerable damage to the labia minora and majora.”

Tasha gasped as he opened the lips and exposed her vagina.

“As you see, he has excised the labia minora with a serrated blade. Possibly a steak knife. The labia majora has been terribly mutilated as well and there is considerable vaginal tearing.”

He looked back up at Clutch and Tasha. He didn’t look so pleasant anymore. Tasha imagined that this sickened him as much as it did her.

“A real sexual sadist, this one.” Limmell said as he covered the body. “What a very sad ending to this woman’s life.”

Tasha stood there looking at the white autopsy drape and felt her face flush with anger. She could tell by looking into the face of Daniel A. Mclutcheon that he felt the exact same way. In all her years in the FBI and dealing with serial offenders, she had never seen anything so gruesome. Bottom line, somebody needed to take this sicko off the street.

“Of course I will send blood and body fluids off to the lab. I sincerely doubt that it will be very helpful.” Limmel stated.

“No. This guy covers his tracks pretty well.” Clutch answered. “The only thing we might learn is if he used Fentanyl again.”

“Ah, yes. A nasty drug if used improperly.”

While they stood there, Tasha heard the door open and footsteps behind her. She turned and saw a clean cut, middle aged man standing before her.

Limmel smiled as his eyes settled upon the man.

“Tasha, this is David Campbell. He is my assistant. One of the best in the business. He probably knows as much about pathology as I do. He’s been an incredible part of my team.”

David smiled at Tasha and walked over to offer his hand. Tasha took it and smiled back at him. It wasn’t lost on her that he was incredibly cute.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He said.

“David will gather the blood and body fluid samples. We’ll let you two know something as soon as we can.” Limmel continued.

“Alright, doc. We’re gonna head out. Thanks for your time.” Clutch responded.

As Tasha walked out of the building and into the dim light of the parking garage, she was again reminded how hot it was. Clutch wiped his brow with a handkerchief as they trudged back to the car. He hadn’t said a word since they left Dr. Limmel and David Campbell to continue working on Monica Balzer’s poor abused body.

“What are you thinking?” Tasha finally said to him as they reached his car.

“I’m thinking that we’re dealing with a totally sadistic depraved bastard who I want to kill right now.”

“Did anything grab your attention?” she asked.

“Only that this killer doesn’t need to breathe air.” Tasha noticed that Clutch’s jaw muscles were twitching again.

“How about you?” Clutch asked.

 “Not a whole lot just yet but when you’re dealing with serial killers, you never know what sort of sick, twisted shit they’re gonna come up with.”

The rest of the ride back to Tasha’s car was a silent one. When they reached the college parking lot, Clutch looked at her.

“Well, what is your game plan?” he asked.

“I dunno. I figure I might go to Malone’s, eat a cheeseburger and fries and drink until I can’t remember what I just saw.” She smiled at Clutch because she knew he was really struggling with it all.

“Yeah, if I wasn’t on the wagon, I’d toss back a few after today.”

“Look, we’re gonna get him.” Tasha said in the most optimistic tone she could muster.

She exited the car and wished him farewell. She watched as his car cruised down the road and vanished from view.

CHAPTER 9

Two weeks later, Clutch was sitting at his desk finishing up some overdue paperwork. He’d just gotten off the phone with David Campbell who had let him know, to nobody’s surprise, that Monica Balzer had Fentanyl present in her blood work. Of course, the perp had left no DNA. Clutch laid his pen down and folded his hands behind his head. He leaned back in his desk chair taking a moment to process it all. The bastard was very meticulous. He gave attention to every little detail. Right now, they were playing his game and, Clutch reasoned, the more the press talked about it, the happier the son of a bitch was. He was becoming famous. Clutch swiped a hand across his mouth and sat up straight in his desk chair. He thought about that reporter, Hank Gamblin. He knew Gamblin would be relentless all the way through the investigation. He’d already gotten quite a bit of storyline in the local paper. The news had mentioned Gamblin’s name once or twice. It seemed like the reporter wanted to be as famous as the perp for the very same vicious things. If the story went away and the perp was caught, Gamblin’s name would also go away.

At that moment, there was a tap on Clutch’s office door.

“Come in.”

Jeff Wilder opened the door and walked through the threshold. He was followed by Martin Vicelli. Martin had been Jeff’s partner since Jeff made detective. Martin had come down from Long Island several years prior. He was half Italian, half Spanish and all asshole. Clutch despised him.

“What’s up?”

Jeff took a seat in the chair across from Clutch’s desk. “Well, for starters boss, we’ve been down at Devil’s Water for a couple weeks now. Every night.”

“Yeah, I seem to remember asking you to do that for me.” Clutch smiled.

Jeff glanced at his partner and then back to Mclutcheon. “Well, Martin and I think he’s probably moved his dump scene. It would be far too risky to dump there again. Don’t you think?”

“Listen, Jeff. I want you down there until I say you don’t need to be. Not the other way around.”

Jeff took a long, hard swallow. “Yeah, boss but this night shift is killing us. Don’t you think we could be doing more important things?”

Clutch leaned back in his chair and met Jeff’s eyes with his gaze. “Look, I was a detective while you were still in junior high. I was a cop while you were still in diapers. Don’t tell me how to run this investigation, Jeff. Don’t go there. Besides, if you can tough it for another week or so, I’ll hand it over to regular patrol. Honestly, I’m starting to believe he’s moved on as well.” Clutch smiled back at his detective. Jeff normally did everything Clutch asked him too with no reservations. Probably Jeff was put up to this by Martin. The little bastard wouldn’t have had the balls to ask for a reassignment himself.

“This guy is a bad one, men. Total sociopath. He mutilated Monica’s genitals.”

Both men looked at each other and then back to Clutch. “Damn.” Wilder finally muttered.

 “Jeff, I want to talk to you for a minute…alone.” Clutch announced.

“Okay boss.”

 As soon as the door was closed, Clutch returned his gaze to his young detective. “What’s been going on down at the Devil’s Water?” he asked.

“Not a whole heck of a lot, boss. The usual stuff you might expect.”

“Like what?”

“Aw, well. Kids hanging out late making out in their cars, drinking and having a good time. Most of ‘em have no clue we’re around and, when I walk up and show them my badge, they just about shit themselves.” Both men laughed at the thought.  “We’ve run across a couple of old drunks who thought they were going to be arrested for public intoxication. I guess we saw a few midnight fishermen.”

“Nothing suspicious, though?” Clutch asked.

“Nah, not really. Thing I can’t figure is why anybody would be down there knowing what happened. I mean, it’s dangerous and people just don’t seem to care.”

“Well Jeff, they think it can’t happen to them and you know what?”

“What boss?”

“That’s what makes it so damn dangerous.”

Several hours later, the sun was setting behind the mountains as Clutch settled into the drivers’ seat of his brand new Volvo S80. The vehicle had cost Clutch over 40 grand but it was his absolute pride and joy. Though it was really an extravagance, Clutch figured with no wife or kids to worry about, he could afford it. The S80 was virtually noiseless as it moved northward along I75. The engine purred as Clutch cruised in behind a tractor trailer and stayed there until he reached East Brainerd Road. Within 10 minutes he pulled into his driveway in the Shady Valley subdivision.  The air conditioner felt superb as he entered his house. He glanced down the hall toward the kitchen and saw a huge white ball of fur. “Hey Happy! You glad to see daddy?” Clutch smiled at his cat. Instead of a response, Happy seemed to hear something in the kitchen and left to investigate. Walking with purpose, the cat suddenly stopped in mid-stride and began to groom himself. Once that task was completed, Happy turned toward Clutch and began to walk slowly toward him for a head scratch. Apparently the noise in the kitchen could wait, Clutch mused.