A Minute to Midnight

by David Baldacci

  “A wedding veil?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know she didn’t put it on her herself?”

  “She’s in her late twenties wearing expensive jeans, a cashmere sweater, and a suede jacket with low-rise croc-skin boots. No way she’s walking around in that outfit with a veil. And it looks to be vintage, a lot older than she is.”

  Wallis scratched his stubbly cheek. “So that veil must have some meaning for the killer? Something symbolic?”

  “This scene was meticulously laid out. So everything has meaning. It’s almost like a little ceremony put together by the killer. Everything just so.”

  “Okay, so what’s your preliminary observation?”

  “I’m pretty sure of one thing.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think this will be the last time we see his work.”

  Chapter 11

  PINE AND WALLIS stared down at the body.

  The forensic processing team and a member of the Sumter County Sheriff’s Investigative Division had shown up in a single black van. A minute later a small, thin man dressed in a dark suit arrived. He was the coroner, called in to officially pronounce a death they all knew had already occurred.

  As they began their tasks, Blum showed up after getting a text from Pine and being cleared through the secure perimeter.

  Pine introduced Blum to Wallis.

  “Sorry to interrupt your visit here,” said Wallis, eyeing Blum. “I’ve taken advantage of your boss being here and roped her into helping.”

  “I doubt much effort was required for that,” replied Blum. She looked down at the body. “A wedding veil,” she said, glancing at Pine, who nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “Symbolic?”

  “I believe so.”

  Blum took a closer look. “It’s old. My mother’s generation. You can tell by the design and the style. World War II–ish.”

  Wallis gave her an appraising look. “You got a good eye.”

  “Well, I certainly try to keep both of them open at all times.”

  Pine squatted down and ran her gaze over the dead woman. Her eyes were open and bulging. There were marks and bruises around her throat.

  “Death by compression of the windpipe,” said Pine as Wallis nodded. “Asphyxiation.”

  The coroner had stooped next to the victim on the other side and begun his examination. This included checking out the deceased’s eyes and shining a light down her throat, and feeling around the base of her neck.

  He said, “I agree with that. Hyoid bone is crushed.”

  “Petechial hemorrhaging,” added Wallis, pointing to the woman’s eyes.

  The coroner nodded. “Strangulation puts pressure on the blood vessels servicing the eyes and they burst.” He looked at the eyes more closely, hitting them with a pen light. “Pupils have contracted, eye fluid has dried, and the irises have altered. This is not a recent death.”

  Pine touched one limb. “And she seems to be in full rigor. How far along I don’t know.”

  “Let me see if I can firm that up a bit.” The coroner made a small incision in the abdomen, inserted a liver temp probe through it, and checked the reading. “Factoring in the ambient temp and air dampness, the size and age of the deceased and her clothing, I’d say she’s been dead over twelve hours. That would coincide with the degree of rigor and the condition of her eyes. They’ll know better once they get her back and open her up.”

  “ID?” Wallis asked one of the techs.

  “None on her that we can find.”

  “There’s an engagement ring and wedding band,” noted Blum, indicating the woman’s left hand. “A fairly expensive ring judging by the stone and setting. If it’s real, that is.”

  “Note the posed look of the body,” said Pine.

  Wallis nodded. “Yeah. She was carefully placed. Hands over her stomach, like she was in a—”

  “—coffin,” Blum finished for him.

  Wallis looked at her strangely. “Exactly.”

  The coroner moved off to jot some notes down while Pine checked the victim’s fingers.

  “I don’t see anything under her nails, no blood or tissue or hair.” She slid up the woman’s jacket and sweater sleeves. “No marks here.”

  “So no defensive wounds or evidence she fought her attacker,” noted Wallis.

  Pine said, “It had only been dark for about a half hour when I arrived at the scene.” She looked between the buildings and to the tree line behind.

  “The body couldn’t have been lying here for hours,” noted Wallis.

  “I doubt it was there too long before the woman saw it. And there would be far more insect infestation if she’d been lying out here for hours.”

  “So we have a bit of a time window to work with.”

  “If we can compile some suspects we can check alibis. Not just for the murder, but also for the placing of the body here.”

  Wallis said, “A lot of strangers come through here every year because of the prison tour and other Civil War stuff. Even my wife and I have done it. Had an ancestor die here.”

  “Union or Confederate?” asked Pine.

  “Union. I’m originally from New York. Joined the Army, trained at Fort Benning. Liked the weather down here better. When I got out, I stayed and joined the police force.”

  “Well, I’m not sure if the killer is a stranger here.”

  Wallis nodded absently. “So strangulation, body posed, possibly a local or someone familiar with the layout and goings-on of the town.”

  “When was the last homicide you had here that was out of the ordinary?” asked Pine.

  Wallis closed his notebook, put it away, moved out from behind the screen, and crossed under the police tape. Pine and Blum followed. He lit up a cigarette from a pack he pulled from his jacket pocket. “Didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene,” he explained. He took a puff of the cigarette. “We had an abduction about thirty years ago, but no murder, at least that we know officially.” He stared at Pine pointedly.

  She gave him a knowing look. “I thought you seemed to recognize my last name when I introduced myself, and you studied my creds for a longer time than normal.”

  “I had just started at the GBI after being in uniform. Wasn’t really involved in what happened to your sister, but I read up on it because it remained unsolved. And because of something else.”

  “Daniel James Tor being active in the area at the same time?” said Pine.

  Wallis nodded and blew twin trails of smoke from his nostrils. “Among other things.” He looked down at his cigarette. “Tried to quit about a hundred times. Maybe I should try that vaping thing before I drop dead from a heart attack or stroke.”

  “Vapes have nicotine, too,” Blum pointed out. “And in my experience that just makes it harder. And it’s hard enough as it is,” she added in a sympathetic tone.

  “No other murders, though?” interjected Pine. “In all that time?”

  “No, there have been. But you said out of the ordinary. What we’ve had down here, it’s almost always one guy shooting or bludgeoning or stabbing another guy. Over drugs, cash, or a gal. We haven’t had any posed victims wearing old wedding veils, at least that I’m aware of. The killer was pretty straightforward in those other cases. Not like here.” He dropped his smoke and tapped it out with the heel of his shoe. “So, no trace, no prints, and no witnesses other than you and the old woman.”

  “What happens now?” asked Pine.

  “Coroner will report his findings to the medical examiner’s office. They’ll request a postmortem. Because of the circumstances it’ll be granted, of course.”

  “Where will they do it?”

  “There’s a regional pathology lab in Macon. The body will go there.”

  “Let me know when they’re going to do the post,” said Pine. “I’d like to be there.”

  He gave her a thoughtful look before glancing over at the forensic team coming and going. “The techs don’t seem
to be finding much.”

  “I think this perp was careful and knew what to do and what to avoid doing.”

  “Meaning?”

  “It’s not his first rodeo.”

  “So you’re really here just visiting?” Wallis said, looking at her pointedly once more.

  “Maybe we can have a talk about it later.”

  He nodded, started to reach for another smoke, and then looked at Blum. “You think cold turkey is the best?”

  She smiled encouragingly. “It can be done. I speak from experience. The first few days will be rough. Chew gum and keep busy.”

  He nodded and walked back over to the screen.

  Blum looked at Pine. “This is an unexpected development.”

  “I’ve come to believe that in my life the unexpected is the norm. How was dinner?”

  “Not nearly as exciting as this.”

  “Was the place crowded?”

  “Pretty full, yes. Why?”

  Pine didn’t answer her.

  Later, they watched as the body of the woman was placed in a black, zippered bag and carried away on a gurney to a waiting vehicle.

  “An engagement ring and wedding band,” said Pine.

  “Right.”

  “So where’s the husband? Because nine times out of ten they’re the killer.”

  “Makes me comforted I’m single,” replied Blum.

  “Me too,” agreed Pine.

  Chapter 12

  ANOTHER POSTMORTEM IN ANOTHER MORGUE.

  Pine hated them, yet they were an absolutely essential tool for her line of work. But she was also disturbed that she had grown so desensitized to the carving up of another human being that she could watch it happen without really feeling anything at all except professional curiosity.

  I can’t let it get personal because then I can’t do my job. But how do I remain human in the process?

  It was the next day, and the body of the dead woman lay on the metal exam table. The examiner was a woman in her fifties with a no-nonsense look to her. She was big boned and broad shouldered, but with a delicate touch as she had spent the last two hours slicing and dicing the victim, while Pine and Wallis had watched.

  The light overhead was powerful and invasive. A microphone was suspended on a cord from the ceiling for the medical examiner to record her findings as she had progressed through the autopsy. Pine had hung on every word.

  The organs had been removed, examined, weighed, and measured, and then replaced neatly in the chest cavity. The scalp had been pulled down and the skull Stryker-sawed open; the brain was taken out and the same exam was done to it. The familiar sutured Y-incision in the chest caused the deceased to look like something out of a horror film. And there was horror in all of it, as her life had been violently taken away.

  Now Pine stood next to Wallis, who had on a suit that was just as baggy as the one from the night before. But his shirt wasn’t as wrinkled, and his tie was straighter.

  “Anything jump out?” he asked.

  “Death by asphyxiation, clearly,” said the ME.

  “Any defensive wounds, trace under the nails?” asked Pine. “I did a cursory exam at the crime scene but found none.”

  The ME shook her head. “I struck out on that, too.” She looked down at the body. “I did find some things of interest.”

  “Like what?” asked Wallis.

  “Like she’s had at least one child.” She pointed to the woman’s face. “And she’s had work done here and here. Cheeks lifted, nose narrowed, jaw line reconfigured.” She pointed to the woman’s groin. “Vaginal tearing there.”

  “Was she raped?” asked Wallis.

  “It’s not recent. No signs of sexual assault.” She pointed to the woman’s large breasts. “She’s also had breast implants. Help me turn her.”

  They did so, and she pointed at the woman’s buttocks. “Implants here too. And anal tearing, again healed up like the vagina.”

  “Conclusion?” asked Wallis.

  “Most likely a prostitute,” replied Pine.

  “Bingo,” agreed the ME.

  “Unfortunately, they’re often the victims of homicide. It’s a high-risk business.”

  Next, Pine pointed to some odd-looking marks on the woman’s hamstrings and buttocks.

  “Round shapes,” observed Pine.

  “They could be the impressions of something she was lying on,” noted Wallis.

  Pine nodded. “Maybe something in a car trunk? When her body was being transported?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Lividity is fixed now, so the marks won’t really go away,” said the ME.

  “We’ll need photos of them,” said Pine.

  “Already done.”

  They laid her back down.

  The ME pointed to tracks on the woman’s arms. “She’s a regular drug user. I could tell that in several ways, but these are the clearest indicators. I’m pretty sure the blood work will show elements of whatever she was using.”

  Pine looked at the woman’s teeth. “They’re stained. Coke, meth, heroin can all do that.”

  “She’s worn her teeth down, too,” noted Wallis. “Addicts grind. And drug use reduces saliva in the mouth.”

  The ME nodded. “And check her septum. It’s basically dissolving.”

  Pine looked at it and said, “Lady snorted coke.”

  The ME placed the sheet back over the deceased.

  Pine said, “So prostitute with a drug addiction gets strangled and placed in a posed position with a wedding veil.”

  “The veil is circa 1940s,” said the ME. “I did some online research.”

  “Your assistant was spot-on with that one,” said Wallis to Pine. “Where is Ms. Blum?”

  “Working another angle,” said Pine.

  “I thought she might be squeamish about the autopsy.”

  “She’s pretty tough. How about the engagement ring?”

  Wallis said, “It looked expensive, but wasn’t. Cubic zirconia.”

  “So the killer might have placed it on her finger along with the wedding band,” said Pine.

  “You think?” replied Wallis.

  “Well, there certainly are exceptions, but I don’t know many women who would knowingly wear a fake engagement ring.”

  The ME gave her a knowing smile.

  “Any luck identifying her?” asked Pine.

  “We’re running her DNA and prints through the usual databases. No hits so far.”

  “How about facial recognition databases?”

  “I can do that,” the ME said, looking over at Wallis, who nodded.

  “She might be in a missing persons bank,” noted Pine.

  “She might be.”

  “Any known prostitutes gone missing lately, or brothels around here that are missing somebody?”

  Wallis said, “Prostitution is illegal in Georgia.”

  “Prostitution is illegal in a lot of places, but it still happens,” retorted Pine.

  “I’ll check.”

  Pine looked more closely at the woman’s face. “I know you said she’s had work done, but some of her features, they seem more Eastern European to me.”

  Wallis said, “We’ll get her picture out to the public and see if we get any bites.”

  He and Pine left the room together and walked down the hall.

  “If the woman was a prostitute she could have been abducted by a john, killed, and then her body placed where it was found,” said Wallis. “It happens.”

  “She could have been unconscious, maybe from a drug overdose, when she was strangled. That would explain no defensive wounds or trace under her nails.”

  “Our first priority is identifying her and then tracing her movements.”

  “Can we get the DMV records of all the men in Andersonville?”

  Wallis shot her a glance. “Why? We don’t have an eyewitness.”

  “Carol was at the Clink last night for dinner, probably shortly before the body was placed where it was. She said it was
pretty full. If she can ID who was there based on their DMV photos, we can start eliminating possible suspects.”

  “Come on, you think she’ll remember the faces?”

  “If it were most people, I wouldn’t even bother. But like she said before, she keeps her eyes open. And it’s worth a shot unless you have a better idea.”

  “No, I don’t. So you think it might be a local man?”

  “I don’t know. But if it is I’m betting at least some of them were at the restaurant.”

  “Okay, I’ll get that in the works for her to look at.” He paused and slipped a cigarette from a pack and put it unlit into his mouth. Off her look he said, “I’m taking baby steps.”

  She nodded. “You’ve been on WebMD, I take it.”

  “A blessing and a curse. I think I have about six other diseases, all of which are fatal. You said this wasn’t the guy’s first rodeo?”

  “I can’t be sure of that, obviously. They all have to start somewhere. But this had an element of sophistication that you don’t typically get right from the commencement of a career in serial murder.”

  Wallis looked askance at her. “Jeez, you make it sound like just another job.”

  “It’s much more than that for the people who commit these types of crimes. They can’t stop themselves. It’s an obsession. It’s the only reason they exist. To satisfy that need.”

  “I guess Daniel Tor is like that?”

  “Yes he is. His brain is different from yours and mine.”

  “And you said you think the person will strike again?”

  “Unless this was a one-off, I think we’re going to see his handiwork again. The posing and veil meant something to the killer. I think he has more to say on the subject.”

  “Any idea as to the future targets?”

  “I have some theories, but nothing solid. It’s a pretty wide-open space right now.”

  “I know the vic might not be local, but should we alert people around here?”

  “I would say yes. But don’t panic them. They can take some pretty basic precautions. Don’t go out alone. Avoid areas that are isolated. Keep their doors locked and their eyes open.”

  Wallis nodded. “What’s your next step?”

  “We’re checking with Quantico to see if they’ve ever documented this type of serial murderer signature before. That’s actually what Carol is doing.”