“You ready to go?” Booth asked.
“You took care of your problem?”
“Dillon’s in custody.”
“Then I’m ready to go.”
He stood silently for a long moment, then turned to face them, his cheeks wet with tears. “I didn’t like his idea about the skeletons. I thought it was excessive. Too far out there, y’know? But I tried to respect his ideas, so he could stand on his own feet, outa my shadow. Said he thought that if you was looking for a serial killer? You’d leave us alone.”
“And it helped,” Booth said, “that my boss Dillon took me off Musetti and assigned me to that case.”
“I guess it did. Maybe the kid knew what he was doing, after all.”
“How did Vincent even know about Jorgensen?”
Gianelli gave a sad smile. “Booth, nobody farts in this town unless we know about it. Guy was killing fags, why should we give a shit? Public service far as we was concerned. And Vincent, he was interested in true crime. Serial killers, them sicko creeps. Why, I’ll never know.”
Brennan cringed at the word “fag.” Like many in his world, Gianelli was a practicing Roman Catholic who considered homosexuality a sin, and many of Gianelli’s generation and social strata considered it repugnant.
The hypocrisy underlying that gave Brennan a flash of understanding.
Even though Raymond Gianelli loved his son, as any father might love his son, the man cared nothing about human life in general.
She had thought Vincent a sociopath, which no doubt he was; but he’d come by it honestly, heredity and environment teaming to provide his lack of conscience.
The streets, the world, would be safer with these two gone.
She knew Booth would make Gianelli live up to his end of the bargain, which meant dozens more killers off the streets. Still, she had a sick feeling about this whole case, and not just because of the grotesque demise of Vincent Gianelli.
The dead had crossed decades, and her team would spend months trying to identify all them; but, in the end, their killers would not go unpunished.
“Vincent would have taken my place,” Gianelli said wistfully. “Run the family… but like everybody who’s going anywhere in the organization, he had to become a made man. That’s what he did with Stewart.”
Booth frowned. “Vince killed Musetti himself?”
“Yeah,” the old man said, and his chuckle was like parchment rubbing against itself. “Even Raymond Gianelli’s son has to make his bones, you know.”
A Note From the Author
I would like to thank Lieutenant Chris Kauffman, CLPE, Bettendorf Police Department, Bettendorf, IA, for his expert input; and Lieutenant Paul Van Steenhuyse, Scott County Sheriff’s Department, Scott County, IA, for Patriot Act information.
Researcher/co-plotter Matthew V. Clemens wishes to acknowledge Stefan Schmitt, Florida Department of Law Enforcement, for his forensic archeology workshop at the IAI conference.
Also helpful were Michele Kuder and Mary Kay Majot from the Dorothy Buell Memorial Visitor Center, Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore, Indiana, generously sharing information about the Indiana Dunes Inland Marsh and related subjects.
I also wish to thank Kathy Reichs for sharing her anthropological expertise. And thank you to Scott Shannon for bringing us together, and to editor Jennifer Heddle; and also to the producers and writers of the Fox television series Bones, for sharing materials and providing inspiration.
About the Author
Max Allan Collins was hailed in 2004 by Publishers Weekly as “a new breed of writer.” A frequent Mystery Writers of America Edgar nominee, he has earned an unprecedented fourteen Private Eye Writers of America Shamus nominations for his historical thrillers, winning for his Nathan Heller novels, True Detective (1983) and Stolen Away (1991).
His graphic novel Road to Perdition is the basis of the Academy Award — winning film starring Tom Hanks, directed by Sam Mendes. His many comics credits include the syndicated strip Dick Tracy; his own Ms. Tree; Batman; and CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, based on the hit TV series for which he has also written video games, jigsaw puzzles, and a USA Today—bestselling series of novels.
An independent filmmaker, he wrote and directed the Lifetime movie Mommy (1996) and a 1997 sequel, Mommy’s Day. He wrote The Expert, a 1995 HBO World Premiere, and wrote and directed the innovative made-for-DVD feature, “Real Time: Siege at Lucas Street Market” (2000). “Shades of Noir” (2004), an anthology of his short films, includes his award-winning documentary, Mike Hammer’s Mickey Spillane.
His other credits include film criticism, short fiction, songwriting, trading-card sets, and movie/TV tie-in novels, including the New York Times bestseller Saving Private Ryan. His one-man show, Eliot Ness: An Untouchable Life, was nominated for an Edgar for Best Play of 2004 by the Mystery Writers of America; a film version, written and directed by Collins, is currently in post-production.
Collins lives in Muscatine, Iowa, with his wife, writer Barbara Collins; and their son, Nathan. He and Barbara have collaborated on numerous short stories and several novels, sometimes writing as “Barbara Allan.”
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Bones: Buried Deep Page 21
