Blood Reckoning

by C. M. Sutter

  “And the cause of death?”

  Even though we were already aware that five people had been found with their throats slashed open, I groaned. “Yep. Same as the woman at the dumpster—throat sliced open from ear to ear.”

  It didn’t take long to reach the location since it was a ten-minute drive from the first site. Renz parked in front of the vacant lot, right behind a Milwaukee police car. The body, still lying in the lot, was surrounded by a portable shield, and yellow police tape blocked that area of the sidewalk from pedestrians.

  We showed our IDs to the officer at the sidewalk, ducked under the tape, then sidestepped the garbage strewn around the lot. The officer, a D. Todd, stood at the body. Renz gave him a nod, then we looked over the barricade. The man lay faceup with his eyes and mouth wide open. His neck was wide open, too, and his severed esophagus was exposed.

  “Damn.” I cringed as I looked at the results of the brutality the man had suffered. I turned away and addressed Officer Todd. “Do you have the address of the woman who called 911?”

  “Yes, ma’am, and we also have the location of the park where the homeless camp is set up.”

  “Good. Any ID on the man?” Renz asked.

  “The medical examiner checked earlier and emptied the man’s pockets into an evidence bag. It’s in my squad car for safekeeping until we release the crime scene back to the neighborhood.”

  Renz tipped his head toward the street. “We’ll need to take a look at that evidence.”

  “Sure thing.” Officer Todd yelled out to the officer who stood at the crime scene tape. “These agents need to see what’s in that evidence bag.”

  We thanked him and joined the policeman at the trunk of their squad car. I pulled a pair of gloves from my pocket, and Renz gloved up too. He opened the bag, reached in, and pulled out the laminated ID card. The rest of the items consisted of a few dollar bills, change, an unopened pack of cigarettes, and a key ring with a four-leaf clover on it.

  I shook my head and pointed at the charm. “Guess that didn’t do shit to bring him luck.”

  Renz pulled out his phone, took a picture of the ID, then dropped it back into the bag. He thanked the officer, and we returned to our car to go pay a visit to Terry Gerhart and the homeless camp.

  “So what was the guy’s name?”

  “Leonard Roche, age fifty-five, with an address that’s probably not valid anymore. This ten-year ID card expires in a few months.”

  “Let’s check out the address anyway.”

  “We will, but that address isn’t going anywhere. Let’s talk to Mrs. Gerhart and some of the residents at the camp first.”

  Renz drove the three blocks to the Gerhart home. After parking along the curb, we took the sidewalk to the front door of the stucco-and-brick Tudor-style home, and Renz gave it two knuckle raps. We had no idea if anyone would be there or not since we hadn’t warned that we were coming. Just as Renz reached up to knock again, we heard someone approaching the door. I sighed with relief that we would get the interview over with and wouldn’t have to circle back a second time.

  The door opened all of six inches, and we could see only half of a woman’s face. “Can I help you?”

  A girl who looked to be around seven peered out from behind her mom.

  The woman spun. “Poppy, get inside!”

  We already had our badges in hand, and I took the lead. “Mrs. Gerhart?”

  “That’s me, and it looks like you’re the FBI. Why on earth are you here?”

  “The incident earlier in the vacant lot—”

  “It was a man who had passed away, so I called 911. That’s all I know. It isn’t like I walked up to him or knew who he was. For God’s sake, my daughter was in the car.”

  I gave her an understanding smile. “If we could have a few minutes of your time. I promise it won’t take long.” I wondered why she was being less than cooperative. We weren’t there to accuse her of anything. “Please?”

  She let out what sounded like an annoyed huff then came out and stood on the porch. She pointed at the bench that sat under the eaves. “Have a seat and please make this brief. My daughter has been crying ever since we got home.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “You don’t understand.”

  It was more than clear that we didn’t, and I wanted to know why she was being short with us. “Do you have a problem with law enforcement, Mrs. Gerhart?”

  “No, but I have a problem with my daughter reliving her father’s death. It was Poppy who found my husband lying in the backyard. He had fallen off the ladder while cleaning out the gutters, sustained a serious head injury, and died the next day. That was only two months ago.” Her eyes pooled with tears. “Poppy still has nightmares. Please, just ask your questions so I can get back inside.”

  Renz took over. “We’re sorry for your loss, ma’am.”

  She nodded for him to move along.

  “Okay, did you see anyone at all in that lot other than the deceased man?”

  “No, it was probably too early for people to be out and about. I was going to make pancakes for breakfast when I realized we were out of milk, and that’s the only reason I was out at that hour. I was headed to the gas station’s quick mart since it was the closest place to pick up emergency items. Usually on Saturdays, Poppy and I have breakfast, relax in front of the TV, and do nothing until around ten.”

  “And the time you went out?”

  She rubbed her forehead. “It was seven or so, give or take a few minutes.” She looked toward the door. “Anything else?”

  “Is that gas station open twenty-four hours a day?” I asked.

  “The pumps are, but the inside closes at two a.m. and reopens at six.”

  “Okay, and you waited at the scene until the police showed up, correct?”

  “Yes, and I told them what I just told you. There wasn’t anything else to say.”

  I stood and pulled a card from my pocket. “There are county-run grief programs available to you and your daughter, Mrs. Gerhart.”

  “I know, and I’m considering that.”

  “Here’s my card in case anything else comes to mind. Thank you for your time.” Back at the car, I climbed in and fastened my belt. “Guess you never understand why people behave the way they do until you know their story.”

  “And that was a sad story for sure. So, are you ready to continue on?”

  “Yep. We need to get to the bottom of those killings, and the TOD is crucial in knowing if there was one killer or more.”

  We headed back the way we’d come, then several blocks farther south, we reached Iroquois Park. A good fifty or more tents were set up there, and I was surprised to learn that so many homeless people lived outside of city-run shelters. As a North Bend resident for my entire life, and usually working cases in other states, I’d never had a reason to be in areas of Milwaukee where homelessness was prevalent. If there were incidents where law enforcement was needed, the local police jurisdiction took care of those issues. The only reason we were called in was because we were the serial crimes unit.

  “Where should we begin?” I asked.

  Renz shook his head. “At tent one, I guess. We’ll show Leonard’s ID photo to everyone and see if anybody owns up to knowing him. Homeless people are squirmy around uniformed cops, but maybe because we’re in street clothes, we’ll look somewhat harmless.”

  I pointed at the yellow and green tent. “Might as well start there. Either they recognize the picture, or they don’t.”

  “Or they say they don’t when they really do, but then we wouldn’t know the difference.”

  “So we have a fifty-fifty chance of hearing the truth, but in my opinion, and with the lot being only a few blocks away, there’s more than a fifty percent chance that Mr. Roche lived in this camp.”

  We struck out with the first dozen people. Either they shied away and wouldn’t talk to us at all, they told us to get lost, or they were too wasted to answer coherently. I had a feeling peopl
e were going to be less than cooperative, then we got to a dirty red tent. A woman sat outside on a folding chair and stared off to her right.

  “Excuse us, ma’am,” I said, causing her to jump. “I’m sorry I frightened you, but we have a picture I’d like you to look at.”

  “No time.” She waved her hands in our direction. “Go away. I’m too busy.”

  I frowned. “Busy doing what?”

  “Waiting for Lenny. He’s been gone too long, and I can’t go out and look for him. Someone will steal our stuff, and it’ll all be gone when I get back. People are bad.” She shook her head. “Real bad.”

  We had to show her the picture of Leonard’s ID since it was obvious that we’d found the person we needed to talk to. We just had to get her focused on what we were about to say.

  Renz handed his phone to me, and I inched closer to the frantic woman. “Ma’am, I have a picture here. Is this Lenny?”

  “What? Why would you have a picture of Lenny?”

  “Is this him, ma’am?” I turned Renz’s phone around and handed it to her.

  She stared at the photo. “How did you know that Lenny was my husband?”

  “We didn’t. We’ve been showing his photo to everyone. May we sit for a minute and talk to you?”

  She nodded at the ground. “Grab a seat.”

  Renz and I sat on the tarp that covered an eight-by-eight section of pavement in front of her tent.

  “So where is Lenny? Did he get lost or arrested for something?” She squinted at us with suspicion in her eyes. “I know you’re cops no matter how much you church up your uniform.”

  I wanted to smile at her feisty words, but the situation didn’t call for it. I sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “Where was Lenny going this morning?”

  “Nowhere. He left last night to get me smokes. I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted cigarettes, but he never came back.”

  “Where did Lenny go for the cigarettes?”

  “To the gas station. There’s a bar that’s closer, but they won’t let our type inside.”

  “What’s your name?” Renz asked.

  “Mary, Mary Roche. So did you arrest Lenny for something? We’re always being hassled by the cops.”

  “No, ma’am. I’m sorry to tell you this, but a woman driving by spotted Lenny in a vacant lot this morning.”

  “And? Did he fall asleep out there?”

  “No, ma’am. He’s dead.”

  Mary let out a gut-wrenching scream and buried her face in her hands. I noticed the dirt under her fingernails and had to look away.

  “How, why? Lenny wasn’t old, so how did he end up dead? What am I supposed to do now without my Lenny?”

  “Mary, I think you should stay in a shelter. It’s safer there.” A cold breeze swirled around my neck. “And winter is right around the corner.”

  Renz picked up where I left off. “Is there anyone in particular at the camp that Lenny didn’t get along with?”

  She coughed through her words. “Everyone got along the same—not good and not bad—just getting by the best we can. Are you saying somebody killed him?”

  I nodded. “That’s exactly what we’re saying, and I’m sorry for your loss. Did you see anyone follow Lenny when he left last night?”

  “No, no, no. People mill around all hours of the night, and I wasn’t paying attention. I just wanted my damn cigarettes. It’s all my fault, and because of that, my husband is dead.”

  She was right, but if it hadn’t been Lenny, I had a feeling anyone walking the area at that time of night would have been the victim. My gut said the killings weren’t specific to anyone, just random acts of opportunity.

  “Do you have a friend in the camp? Somebody who’ll give you moral support in your time of need?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay, then I’ll make a call on your behalf. You’d be better off in a shelter, and I’ll try to find one close by.” I gave her my card and a hand squeeze, and we walked away.

  Chapter 6

  As they sat side by side in their living room, Evelyn and Jacob reviewed every sheet of paper they’d spread out in front of them. It was time to put the second phase into motion. They were getting close to that final moment where everything they had planned came together.

  “The recruits did well and have proven themselves worthy to move on to the next step, one that’s even riskier.” Evelyn lifted the sheet of paper containing the names and smiled. “They can take care of the next group tonight. When we finally get to the people responsible, my heart will rejoice when we rid them from the earth. An eye for an eye as far as I’m concerned. We’ll look each one in the face and tell them why they’re about to take their final breath. Their family will finally learn the truth—the real truth, not a covered-up lie. They’ll understand the agony we went through because they’ll go through it too.”

  Jacob added his opinion. “Our pain was and still is beyond horrible, yet they dismissed us, said we were mistaken and had made things up. We had no proof of wrongdoing, but when it’s all said and done, we’ll come through victorious.”

  Evelyn wiped her eyes. “But it still won’t bring them back.”

  Jacob reached out and squeezed her hand. “It won’t, but it’ll be a victory nonetheless.” He took the sheet of paper out of Evelyn’s hand and circled the top five names. “We’ll have our members follow them throughout the day, see what their routines are like, and then the recruits can take action tonight. They’ll have completed their work and proven themselves brave and capable, but they’ll have to stand down unless we need them again. Who knows? There may be more people to eliminate if this situation snowballs.”

  Evelyn frowned. “You mean law enforcement?”

  “I mean anyone who gets in our way.”

  Chapter 7

  “Let’s head in. I’m sure by now, the rest of the team has seen the other bodies, talked to the police, and spoken with people in the area. They’ve probably gone back to headquarters already.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I searched my phone as Renz drove.

  “Whatcha looking for?”

  “A contact name at a nearby shelter. Hopefully, they’ll talk to Mary and convince her to stay there, at least for the winter months. It won’t be long before the snow is flying.”

  Renz looked up. “Yep, and once the sky takes on that winter-gray hue, it doesn’t change again until April.”

  “Thanks for that image. Winter is already too long and too cold, but why does it have to be gray too?”

  Renz pulled a quarter out of the console tray. “Don’t know, but here’s a quarter.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, and what am I supposed to do with that?”

  “Call a weatherman. He might have the answer to your question.”

  I cleared my throat. “Excuse me? First, I don’t think pay phones exist anymore, and second, you should have said ‘weatherperson’ since the meteorologist I watch on my favorite news channel happens to be a female.”

  I punched his shoulder, and Renz laughed. “Sorry. I keep forgetting we live in the twenty-first century.”

  “Okay, I think I found somebody who can help Mary, so shush while I make the call.”

  We were back at our St. Francis headquarters twenty minutes later. I looked out at Lake Michigan as Renz pulled into our parking spot. The water looked cold and uninviting, and other than a barge along the horizon, I didn’t see a single boat.

  Once on our floor and after seeing that every office was empty, we grabbed our coffee cups and headed to the conference room. There was always a pot of fresh coffee when we had updates and brainstorming sessions. Renz and I entered and found everyone from our team back and seated. Each agent gave us a quick update of the site they went to, and most were repeats. There were no witnesses to the brutal killings, and all the victims appeared to be from homeless camps.

  We went over our findings with the group. The first victim, a female around fifty, had no identification, so she would be co
nsidered a Jane Doe unless someone who actually knew her name came forward. I explained that we did have a witness of sorts—the man who called 911 and went by the name Ray. We went over his account of hearing sounds in the night and seeing shadows moving toward the alley.

  “He remembered the church bells ringing twice.”

  “So two in the morning?” Taft asked.

  “That’s correct, ma’am. Ray admitted to being afraid, so he didn’t wander out until after daylight when other people were up and about. He told us he recognized dumpster sounds from the night before and went to investigate. That’s when he found the body, ran to the corner market, and had them call 911.”

  Maureen raised a brow. “Did he recognize the woman?”

  Renz took over. “He said he did and knew which tent she lived in. His opinion was that she was a victim of a crime of opportunity for the perp since her tent was the farthest from the rest. He assumed the killer saw an easy target and chose her as his victim.”

  I added my two cents. “Ray said she had only lived at the camp for a few weeks and kept to herself, so that’s why nobody knew her name. We searched her tent and found a little bit of food, a couple of T-shirts and two pair of pants, cigarettes, and some change at the bottom of her tote. Nothing of importance.”

  Taft tipped her chin after taking notes. “Okay, and the second location?”

  “We actually found the wife of the victim at Iroquois Park, where a homeless camp is set up. The deceased did have an ID, and that, along with a few other items, was collected in an evidence bag. I took a picture of the ID, and then we went from tent to tent until we came upon the wife. She was worried sick. Said her husband, Lenny, had left the night before to go to the gas station to buy her cigarettes. The gas station closes at two a.m.”

  Tommy asked about the cigarettes. “So did he have a new pack of cigarettes on his person?”

  I sighed. “He did, but we didn’t tell the wife that. She felt guilty enough.”

  “So that means he was killed right after two o’clock and was heading back to the camp.”