DF08 - The Night Killer (34 page)

“See, I told you the bodies was there,” said Slick, craning his neck to look at the body bags.

“You took a long time,” said Mathews. “I thought you said you would send Mike out if you were going to be long. I was starting to worry.”

“I’m sorry. I should have specified what I consider a long time,” said Diane. “We searched the cavern they were in, collected all potential evidence, and photographed the graffiti on the walls.”

“The graffiti? Why?” asked Mathews.

“To see who knew about the cave,” said Diane.

“They signed their names?” asked Mathews.

“That’s about all they wrote,” said Diane.

“Can you tell if they are my couple?” Liam asked.

“It’s a male and a female. The female has long honey blond hair; the male has shorter black hair . . .” began Diane.

“Does that fit?” asked Mathews.

Liam nodded. “I’m afraid it does.”

He took two photographs from an envelope and showed them to Diane and Mathews. They showed a lovely elfish-looking girl with a sly smile and long honey blond hair and a boy with medium-length dark hair, a wide grin, and nice teeth.

Liam looked at Diane as if asking if these were the bodies. She shook her head.

“They have been dead for several weeks. I think my team will be able to pinpoint the time more accurately. And there is this,” she said, pulling out the evidence bag with the bracelet. “This was on the girl.”

Liam took the bag and looked at the bracelet. From the grim set of his mouth, Diane thought he recognized it. He nodded.

“It’s hers. Her sister gave it to her and she always wore it.”

“I’m sorry there isn’t better news for your client,” said Diane. “But we do need to do an autopsy before you tell him this is his daughter. We need a positive ID first.”

“Sure,” he said. “I’m not in a hurry to give him such devastating news.”

Diane turned to Mathews. “I’d like to speak with you,” she said.

He raised his eyebrows. “All right.”

“Is this something I need to know?” asked Liam.

“Eventually,” said Diane, “but not now.”

He hesitated a moment, as if he were going to press the issue, but backed off. Diane and Agent Mathews stepped away from everyone, almost into the bushes.

“What is it?” he asked. “You found something else?” Diane nodded. “Their throats were cut in a manner very similar—perhaps identical—to the Barres’ and the Watsons’.”

Mathews wrinkled up his face and looked toward the hole that was the cave entrance. “You think it was the same killer then?”

“It looks suspicious,” said Diane. “I wanted to ask you. I know the GBI has this case, but Lynn Webber did the second autopsies on the bodies of the Barres and Watsons. She made casts of the nicks the murder weapon made in the vertebrae of all the victims. I would like to suggest that you ask her to do these autopsies too—for a direct comparison.”

“We’ve been cooperating quite a bit lately,” he said.

“Isn’t that good?” said Diane.

“In theory, but . . . you know how it is,” he said. “The bureau’s got its procedures.”

Diane didn’t say anything, merely waited.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

“There’s one other thing,” she said, and told him about the graffiti of
L. Conrad, 1974
.

“You think it’s Sheriff Conrad?” he said.

“I don’t know how many L. Conrads have been in this cave,” said Diane. “If it was him, it shows he knew about this cave. What about Massey?”

Mathews shook his head. “We can track his whereabouts. You know where he was during the Barre murders. He could have done them, but at the time of the Watson murders he was in Atlanta staying in a cheap motel with Tammy. That’s when they decided to take their vacation from crime until things cooled down. We’ve verified that.”

“What’s the status now on Sheriff Conrad?” asked Diane.

“We’re getting a judge to remove him,” said Agent Mathews. “His behavior has gone far beyond his ability to talk himself out of punitive measures. This new information is even more disturbing. He’ll be off the streets by the end of the day—or tomorrow at most. Since this looks like it may connect to the Barres and the Watsons, I’ll be taking over those cases as well.”

Mathews looked like he was looking forward to slapping Conrad down hard.

Diane just remembered that she hadn’t told Liam about the lab results on the list he found at the campsite—how Korey had brought out the writing. She told Mathews about it first.

“So they were going to break into the Barres’ house,” he said. “Interesting. If they hadn’t been murdered first, they would go to number one on my suspect list.”

“I know,” said Diane. “You might get Liam Dugal to show you where their campsite was. From his description of it, I don’t think that’s the place they were killed, or he would have noticed blood—even after the rainstorm. But I’ll bet it’s near there.”

Diane realized that Frank was nowhere in sight and she hadn’t seen him since she came out of the cave. She was just about to ask Mathews, when Frank came out of the woods.

“I’ve found the kill site,” Frank said.

“You found what?” said Agent Mathews. “Where have you been, anyway, Frank?”

“I thought I’d take a look around the area. I found a trail of damaged underbrush and followed it to a stream just a few yards down there.” Frank gestured to the north and turned to Diane and grinned at her. “Glad to see you aboveground.”

“We didn’t get to do much sightseeing,” she said, “but we found the bodies.”

“You need to bring your bag of magic tricks and follow me,” Frank said.

“This day is just going to go on forever,” said Mathews. “I’ve still got to take Massey over to his pasture to find the bodies he buried. Well, hell . . . not that I don’t appreciate finding more evidence, but I really hate being out in the woods,” he said. “Let’s go look. Then I’ll leave you and Diane here to take care of this site and I’ll go on to Massey’s pasture.” He turned to Diane. “I think the Rosewood morgue will be quicker to get to and leave these bodies. I’ll send a couple of agents over with them. I’ll take your suggestion and damn the consequences. I’ll tell the bureaucrats they can get their butts out in this tick-infested jungle if they’re not happy with the way I handle it.” He swatted his arm.

Diane left the cave evidence with the GBI agents and called Neva over with the crime scene kit. Frank led them through the tangle of underbrush, showing them the damaged and flattened plants along the way. The rains had helped many of them stand back up, but Diane could still see a definite path.

“When I saw the damaged brush, I figured they might have dragged the bodies from the creek to the cave,” Frank said.

The trip through the woods reminded Diane of her earlier one that dark, rainy night when the brush and small trees whipped her legs and arms and stung her face. Only this time she had supportive company and it was light and she was dressed for the trip.

They arrived shortly at a creek filled with rounded rocks and bordered with ferns. As they began their examination of the area, Diane saw that Mike and Liam had tagged along. She caught a glimpse of them coming through the thick green brush. She also noted that they had lagged behind at a distance. Not an easy feat with Mathews going so slowly, but it was probably his string of nonstop complaints along the way that had drowned out the noise of their movement behind them through the underbrush.

“What are you two doing?” Diane asked.

“I want to follow this thing through,” said Liam.

“Speaking of your client . . .” said Mathews, scratching his back and wiggling his shoulders.

“Was I?” said Liam.

“Why else would you want to follow it through?” said Mathews. “I think it’s time you told us who your client is.”

Liam sighed and nodded. “I know. His name is Wain-wright MacAlister,” he said.

“You mean the real estate mogul who’s thinking about running for Congress?” said Mathews.

“The one and only,” said Liam.

“You should have told me that sooner,” Mathews said.

“Would you have done things any differently?” asked Liam.

“Yes. I’d have brought more Tums,” he said.

“I’ve got plenty. I can share,” said Liam.

“You can stand over by that tree,” said Diane to Liam. “Don’t get in the crime scene.” She turned to Mike. “And what’s your excuse?”

“There’ve been so many strange things going on, I thought you could use someone to watch your backs,” said Mike.

“Fine. Watch our backs from a distance—over there with Liam,” she said. She hesitated a moment and turned to Liam. “What were their names?”

“Larken MacAlister and Bruce Gregory,” he said.

Diane turned back around and followed Frank to the edge of the creek. It wasn’t a large creek, perhaps five feet across at its widest point. It was very beautiful, almost the stereotypical mountain stream. Only the stain of blood on the rocks along the creek’s bank and covering one side of a small tree trunk marred its picturesque feel. Even with the rains, the blood was still there. It obviously had dried before the rains fell. Another clue.

She noticed a shiny metal dish the size of a large skillet wedged between rocks in the creek.

“Looks like they were panning for gold,” said Mike, pointing to the dish.

Diane looked over at him.

“That’s a pan for panning gold,” he said. “See, I’m helpful.”

She frowned at him.

Get equipment
was one of the items on the dead couple’s list, thought Diane. She wondered if this was part of the equipment. Diane remembered Liam saying that the two copied geologic maps at the library. Liam thought they were looking for abandoned mines.

“Perhaps they were panning at different creeks close to mines,” said Diane, “hoping the density of their finds would point them to the right mine.”

“Possible,” answered Mike. “But you never know what’s going on underground. The stream being close to a cave or mine doesn’t necessarily mean it’s carrying material from there.”

“But they might very well have thought that was a plan,” said Frank.

“Well, I guess I’ve seen all I need to see,” said Mathews. “I’m going to leave it with you.”

“Can you find your way back?” asked Frank.

“There’s nothing wrong with my sense of direction,” said Mathews. He headed back the way they had come, retracing their steps.

“Send up a flare if you get lost,” said Frank.

“Up yours, Frank,” he said, before disappearing into the undergrowth. “Doesn’t anybody ever mow up here?” they heard him say.

Frank smiled at Diane. “Gil’s not much of a woodsman.” He looked around at the scene. “What can I do to help?”

“Neva and I are going to take photographs first. Then you can help Neva with some measurements. I’m going to collect blood samples. And we need to search the area to see if there’s anything else to be found. A murder weapon would be nice.” But Diane had a feeling that it was taken, to be used again on the Barres and the Watsons. “Neva, will you have a look at the pan and see if there are any prints on it?”

Neva nodded and they began the meticulous work of collecting evidence. After photographing the area, with close-ups of the blood and the pan, Diane took blood samples from the tree and the rocks and she looked for fibers that might have rubbed off from clothing onto the trees or underbrush. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Mike was a little restless. But Liam seemed perfectly calm. Different training, she supposed.

“Hey, Doc,” said Mike, “why don’t I walk the creek and look for anything that may have washed downstream?”

“I can go with him,” said Liam. “We each can take a side of the creek.”

Diane stood up from her stooped position and looked at them. “When this goes to court, we have to be above reproach in our collection of evidence,” she said.

“I’m a detective and I’ve given evidence in court before,” said Liam. “And Mike here . . .” He turned to Mike. “What are you exactly?”

“Geologist,” said Mike.

“See,” said Liam. “Geologist, rocks, cave, mines, gold.” He gestured with his arm over the area. “It fits. I think you’re covered.”

“Okay. Watch where you put your feet. If you find anything, call one of us. Don’t pick it up,” she said. “Take those small orange flags out of the pack and mark anything of note.”

“Gotcha, Doc,” said Mike. “It’s not like I haven’t helped before.”

Diane watched for a moment as the two of them walked along the bank. She saw Liam cross the creek at a narrow point and proceed out of sight. She went back to collecting blood samples. She found a fiber stuck under a spot of dried blood on the tree. She lifted it and put it in an envelope. Neva was drawing the scene as she and Frank measured the distance between objects. All in all, they were going pretty fast.

Diane had taken her last sample and Neva was examining the pan and lifting prints when they heard shouts downstream from Mike and Liam.

When Diane and the others found Mike and Liam, they were on the bank looking at an object under the water. Diane squatted for a closer look. It was a leather drawstring pouch about the size of a cantaloupe wedged between two large rocks of about the same size as the pouch. Water flowed around and over it. Diane could see from the contours of the bag that there was something in it.

Diane photographed it from several angles. Neva set about drawing it while Frank got Mike to help take measurements.

“See, we were quite helpful,” said Mike.

“Yes, you were. This is only about forty yards from the primary site. What took you so long to find it?” said Diane.

“Is she always this exacting to work for?” Liam asked Mike.

Neva grinned. Mike made a face back at her.

“I assure you, Liam, Mike is more demanding in his department than I am in the whole museum,” said Diane. “Now, what did you do, miss it the first time and find it on the return trip?”