“I heard about Veronica Campbell getting murdered,” he said, rummaging around in the kitchen cabinets. “I’ve been watching the papers for the funeral, but I haven’t seen anything. I guess the coroner’s office hasn’t released the body yet. She was good people. Have you caught the person who did it yet?”
“No,” Carolyn said, watching as he spooned coffee into the filter. “We have a number of suspects, though. How long has it been since you saw Veronica? I know she was fond of you. I’m sorry about what happened to your son.”
While the coffee was percolating, Bell took a seat across from her. His long legs practically reached into the living room. “I used to have a nice house, you know. After my wife killed herself, I let everything go. I lost the only two people I ever loved. Material things don’t matter after you go through something like that. Veronica had a bunch of kids, didn’t she?”
“Four.” Carolyn waited as he pulled out two mugs and filled them with coffee, then carried them to the table.
“I hope you like it black,” he said. “I don’t have any milk or sugar.”
“Black is fine,” she said, taking a sip. “Ah, Veronica, did you see her recently?”
“Nah. Must be a year now since I even talked to her on the phone.” His brows furrowed. “I wouldn’t have known about Lester McAllen getting kicked out of prison if Veronica hadn’t called and told me. I heard about that coroner messing up. I didn’t know it meant a man already in prison could be released because of what he’d done. I hate to admit it, but I wasn’t at all sorry when he got himself killed. What was his name? Abby or something.”
“Robert Abernathy.”
“Yeah, that’s the son of a bitch’s name. How could a man do something like that? Just get up on the stand and lie. I saw another article that said he was almost blind.”
“I’m not trying to defend him, Tyler, but if Abernathy had told the truth in your son’s case, Lester McAllen might not have been convicted. When they reexamined the evidence after the situation with Abernathy came to light, the DNA sample was found to be contaminated. Abernathy used the DNA collected from McAllen after his arrest. He perjured himself because he believed McAllen was guilty, and he knew the state didn’t have enough evidence to prove it.”
Bell’s shoulders rolled forward, and he looked around the room, avoiding making eye contact with her. He appeared to be shaken. It was obvious she’d told him something he hadn’t known. Was his behavior indicative of guilt? It was a hard call. Anything that linked back to the death of his son would trigger an emotional response.
“I doubt if it’s a coincidence that Lester McAllen was also murdered,” Carolyn continued. “You had a motive to kill both of these men, Tyler. I’m sure there are people who would believe whoever killed these men was fully justified. Murder is murder, though.”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” he said, fidgeting in his seat. “Is that why you came here? To accuse me of killing these people? Sure, I wanted McAllen dead, and maybe at the time, I thought Abernathy should go to hell with him. My son’s killer wasn’t the only criminal who went free because of that man. Have you gone to their houses and accused them? The monsters who hurt their loved ones are probably still out there. That means they have a lot more motive than me.”
“Let me put my cards on the table,” Carolyn said, not wanting to add to his belief that the criminal justice system had failed. “Veronica told me last year that there was a possibility that you might have killed Abernathy as well as McAllen. She blamed herself for telling you. Like you said earlier, you might not have put two and two together if she hadn’t contacted you.” When he started to get angry, she held up a palm. “Just hear me out, okay? The killer left a partial print on Abernathy’s gate. The lab said he had some kind of oily substance on his hands, which made the print worthless. Veronica remembered you telling her that you had sensitive skin, that you used some kind of special cleaner to remove paint stains. She also told me you were a marksman in the military. Whoever killed Abernathy and McAllen knew what he was doing. Each one died from a single shot to the head.”
“The cleanser I use isn’t oily,” he told her. “I’m allergic to petroleum distillates, so I use Gojo. I have a bottle in the other room if you want to see it.”
“Let me finish what I was trying to tell you. When Veronica came to me last year with her suspicions about you, I told her to sit on it. Neither of us was upset that McAllen was dead. That may have played a large part in our decision.”
Tyler Bell’s mouth tightened. “What the hell do you want from me, lady?”
“Since Veronica suspected you,” Carolyn explained, “she may have confronted you and you decided to kill her.”
Bell jumped to his feet, pointing toward the door. “Get out! I’m not a killer. You have no right to come into a man’s home and talk this kind of trash. My son was raped, then butchered. His remains were delivered to the funeral home in pieces.”
Carolyn stood, taking several steps backward. She didn’t feel threatened, though, just swept inside Bell’s grief and outrage. “You have every right to be angry,” she told him, speaking softly. “I came to you, though, didn’t I? I could have taken this to the police, but I didn’t want you to have to go through that unless I felt certain you were involved. We can put all this in the past where it belongs. Meet me at my office tomorrow and I’ll collect a DNA sample. Also, bring along the cleanser you use.” She stopped and caught her breath. “Will you do that for me, Tyler? Will you do that for Veronica?”
Bell glared at her, picking up the coffee mugs and placing them in the sink. “I’ll think about it,” he said, keeping his back to her.
“Here’s my card,” Carolyn said, walking over and placing it on the counter. “If you can’t do it tomorrow, we can set something up for Monday or Tuesday. I’m even willing to meet you in the evening so you won’t have interrupt your work. I need to hear from you in the next few days, though, or I’ll have no choice but to go to the police with what I know. Veronica and I put our necks on the line for you, Tyler. We could have been charged with withholding evidence in two homicides. With Veronica’s death, it’s now up to three. Keep that in mind.”
He turned around, more afraid now than angry. “But you want me to give my DNA to the police. Then I’ll officially be a suspect. Word gets out and I could lose what little I have left.”
“I promise the police won’t be involved.” Carolyn hoped she could hold true to her statement. “I have a connection at the crime lab. I’ll collect the samples myself and have them tested against the evidence. Everything will be done under the radar. Trust me, if the tests are negative, you’ll never have to worry about this again.”
CHAPTER 21
Saturday, October 16—9:10 A.M.
Haley Snodgrass’s partially dissected corpse lay naked on the stainless steel autopsy table. Charley Young was a diminutive Korean man in his early forties, Dr. Young was both exacting and mellow, traits that weren’t always compatible. His black hair was neatly trimmed, his eyes obscured behind wire-framed glasses.
The first thing that struck Hank was the small amount of flesh on the victim’s body. When he’d seen her the night before, she had been covered with dirt and leaves. He knew she was small, but what he saw now looked like the body of an emaciated ten-year-old.
“This one is a heartbreaker,” the pathologist said, a comment out of character for a man in his position. “She was a beautiful girl, Hank. Blond hair, blue eyes, nice features. Why would a girl like this starve herself? Anorexia is a baffling disease. I wouldn’t have spent all night working this case if the circumstances had been different. I keep thinking about my daughter, wondering if she might develop this when she gets older. There’s no way to predict or prevent anorexia and bulimia. All we can do right now is hospitalize these people, and a large percentage relapse as soon as they get out.”
“I hear you,” Hank said. “That’s why my wife I and didn’t have kids. There’s too many things that
can go wrong.”
“You made a mistake there,” Charley said, his speech lightly accented. “Children are one of the greatest joys in life. When things go wrong, you just find a way to deal with them. Nothing in life is certain.”
“Death is certain.”
“True,” the pathologist said. “As to your victim, the killer didn’t have to inflict much of a beating. Without intervention, this girl would have died within a matter of months. Because of the gases and other factors in decomposition, she appeared larger than was. She weighs seventy-eight pounds.”
“Jesus,” Hank said. “I think I weighed that much by the time I was five. How do you know the killer didn’t starve her?”
Charley walked over to a long table. “We cut two pairs of heavy sweatpants off her, along with several tops. She was layering to conceal how thin she was, probably from her parents and friends. Her skin would be looser if she’d been starved by the killer. Her weight loss occured over a lengthy period of time.”
Hank placed his hand over his stomach. “Talking about this is making me hungry. Why don’t we go out and grab some breakfast?”
“How about I go home and get some sleep?”
“Hey,” Hank said, “you called me, remember?”
“I wanted you to see something interesting,” Charley said, walking back to the autopsy table. “Look at the pattern of bruising. Most of the blows landed on her torso. These are the kinds of injuries we see inflicted by men who batter their wives and girlfriends. The only injury that would be visible is the one on her right cheek. Since you think there might be a connection to the Campbell case, I had them send me the photographs taken of Jude Campbell at the hospital.” He opened a file folder and pinned up the snapshots on the screen he used for X-rays. “Do you see what I’m talking about? The injuries are similar.”
“So it was the same guy?”
Charley made a wavy motion with his hand. “Sometimes when things are this obvious, they’re that way for a reason. Look at this injury on Jude Campbell’s thigh. It was made by the heel of a shoe, as were most of the other injuries. I matched it as a size eleven, so the person the shoe belonged to was probably tall.” He spun back around to the Snodgrass girl. “The blow to this victim’s face was so severe, her jaw was fractured. If you look closely at the pattern of bruising, you can tell this was made by a balled-up fist. See the outline of the knuckles? The injuries on the Campbell girl were superficial.”
“I’m a little lost here, Doc. I mean it doesn’t seem unusual to me. Jude’s bastard father must have kicked her, right?”
“Let me explain,” the pathologist said. “If the Campbell girl was kicked or stomped on, there would be an indentation in the skin, maybe even hairline fractures to the rib cage. It’s almost as if someone slapped her repeatedly with a shoe. The rest of her injuries fall along the same lines. They’re just enough to break a few blood vessels, which caused the discoloration or bruising. The Snodgrass girl, however, suffered substantial injuries to her spleen, kidneys, and ovaries.”
“What are you saying?” the detective asked, brushing his finger under his nose.
“I’m trying to tell you is there’s a possibility the Campbell girl’s injuries were self-inflicted.”
“Jude Campbell escaped, remember?” Hank said. “If she hadn’t, she would have been his second victim.” He cracked his knuckles. “Do you think the bastard intentionally buried Haley Snodgrass alive?”
“Yes,” Charley told him. “The beating might have rendered her unconscious for a while, but she was gasping for air when he began covering her with dirt. She might have even been crying for help or pleading with him. Since her mouth was open, we’d expect to find dirt in her throat. But this girl inhaled it. It was in her lungs. That’s what killed her. The cause of death is asphyxiation.”
“So let me see if we’re on the same page here,” Hank said, leaning back against a counter. “Haley Snodgrass could have been his first kill. Burying her alive excited him. Maybe he intended to do the same to Jude Campbell. That could be why she received a lighter beating because he wanted to make certain she didn’t die. Just killing her wasn’t enough. It doesn’t make sense for Jude to have inflicted those injuries on herself. She didn’t want anyone to know about them, so she didn’t do it for attention. Carolyn walked in on her in the bathroom and saw them. She had to handcuff her to get her to go to the hospital.”
Charley removed his glasses. “Is the Campbell girl’s father still your primary suspect?”
Hank looked troubled.
“For the time being. Something just doesn’t add up, though. Serial killers don’t usually pick their offspring as victims. The closer you get to home, the more of a chance you’ll get caught. And if her father did attempt to kill Jude, for whatever reason, why didn’t he finish the job? Jude came home, so he had the opportunity. It was risky, sure, but guys who do these types of things don’t think about the consequences. All Drew Campbell did was tell her to move out of the house.”
“That works,” Charley said, putting his glasses back on. “If she’s not living at home, she’s less connected to him. Am I right? He didn’t know she was going to talk. Perhaps he planned on finding her and doing away with her at a later date, after things cooled down.”
Hank shook his head in bewilderment. “How does Veronica Campbell fit into this picture? She wasn’t beaten to death or buried alive. She was shot in a bathtub at a motel.”
“You may have two killers running on separate tracks,” Charley concluded. “Just because the Haley girl may have been killed around the same time as Veronica Campbell doesn’t mean the same person killed her. I know you don’t put much stock in coincidences, Hank, but they do exist. I read in the paper not long ago about two brothers who were killed in separate car accidents on the same day, only hours apart.”
“Was Haley sexually assaulted?”
“I didn’t find any semen in her vagina, nor any recent trauma that would suggest she was forcefully penetrated. That doesn’t mean the killer didn’t have intercourse with her. This girl has been sexually active for a long time.”
“How long?”
Charley covered up the body, removed his gloves, and called his assistant to store Haley Snodgrass’s remains. “I’m leaving, Hank. I’m going to spend tomorrow with my family. If a new case comes in, I’m not responding, so don’t ask for me.”
“Whatever you say,” Hank said. “But you didn’t answer my question. How long do you think the victim’s been sexually active?”
“Since she was a child.”
“Can you be more specific? Are we talking early or late teens? I mean, in today’s world, there aren’t that many teenagers who aren’t sexually active.”
“I suspect she was under the age of ten,” Charley told him, sighing deeply. “If the killer raped her, she might not even have felt it. When a prepubescent female has sexual intercourse on a regular basis, genital surgery is usually required to restore the vagina to a normal size. This is more than likely the reason she became anorexic. The only thing she could control in her life was the food she put in her mouth.” He reached for the door handle, then stopped and glanced back at the detective. “Now that I’ve told you, I’m going to warn you. If the media get their hands on this information, I’ll refuse to handle any more of your cases.”
Hank felt ashamed to be a man. “Don’t you see? This is the same thing the doctor said about Jude Campbell. I can’t see her father molesting the Snodgrass girl when she was a kid. Shoot, we don’t even know if they knew each other back then. This is bizarre.”
Charley turned to leave. Fearing he might get locked inside the autopsy room, the detective rushed out the door behind him. Once he’d locked up, the pathologist took off down the corridor leading to the employee parking lot.
Hank pressed his hands against the glass, staring at the small mound underneath the white sheet. Jude had told them she was trying to kill herself by not eating, but she was nowhere near as thin a
s Haley Snodgrass. Both girls appeared to have been sexually assaulted as children.
Stepping outside into the rain, Hank pulled his coat over his head and jogged to his police unit. Dozens of questions flooded his mind. Child pornography and pedophilia Web sites were present on the Internet, regardless of how hard law enforcement worked at getting rid of them. As technology advanced, so did opportunities for criminals and perverts. He’d read in the news the other day about a guy who’d downloaded child pornography onto his iPod.
The worst development had to do with webcams. Young teens, the majority boys, were being enticed by pedophiles to expose themselves on the Internet. And pedophiles were working together, chatting online and suggesting different ways to move a boy along. In one instance, a man had rented an apartment for a thirteen-year-old boy who was afraid his mother would catch him. The man also set up a Web site where he could take credit cards. In one year, the boy made over a hundred grand. What a terrible world children were being brought into, Hank thought, his mood as dark as the sky above him.
Did Haley Snodgrass’s father know Drew Campbell? Now they’d have to get a search warrant for the Snodgrass residence. Perhaps the two men had met online years ago. Had they swapped their daughters? Just the mere thought was so repugnant, he almost sucked a toothpick down his windpipe.
Unlocking his car and darting inside, he started the engine and turned on the windshield wipers. The mechanical swishing sound had a calming effect as his mind searched through possibilities. Jude hadn’t said anything about another man being involved. Maybe it was too embarrassing, or she’d been too young to remember. Had the two girls grown to a state of rebellion where they now posed a threat to their fathers? It was more difficult to control an adult than a child, and both Haley Snodgrass and Jude Campbell were going on nineteen.
Revenge of Innocents Page 20
