Diane shook her thoughts and looked around the room. Kacie’s decorating tastes included import shops. She had carved end tables with a scroll design, a carved wooden elephant coffee table with a glass top, several colorful silk throws of fuschia, lime green and blue tossed on the chairs and sofa along with a multi tude of ornate throw pillows. The apartment smelled of death and incense.
Kacie had been found in her bed—strangled, beaten and raped. This one didn’t look anything like the oth ers. Except someone had gone through her drawers. They had also taken her ring and had skinned her finger pulling it off.
Diane told Garnett about Madison Foster and re lated the information she had gained from her.
‘‘She was at the hospital reporting on your mummy?’’ He shook his head. ‘‘It’s about time some of the coincidences worked in our favor,’’ he said.
Diane was relieved. She feared that she was going to have to explain to him just why she was inter viewing witnesses.
‘‘So there was something the boys were into,’’ said Garnett, almost to himself.
‘‘It appears so. Have you any leads on Mayberry?’’
‘‘None. We still don’t know if he’s dead or alive.’’
‘‘Where’s Ross Kingsley?’’
‘‘He’s in his motel room working on his profile.’’
‘‘What’s his thinking?’’
‘‘Different from mine, especially with the new infor mation. I think our boys were into something with the three Cobber’s Wood victims. They had a falling-out, and Edwards and Mayberry hung them. Then Mayberry and Edwards had a falling-out, and Mayberry killed him. I’m thinking that Edwards tied the knots for the Cobber’s Wood victims and Mayberry tied the knots that strung up Edwards.’’
‘‘What about Kacie? Mayberry do her too?’’ asked Diane.
‘‘Either that, or this really is a coincidence. She was raped. This could be a rapist who also steals.’’
‘‘That sounds reasonable,’’ said Diane, ‘‘but there’s one thing.’’
‘‘What’s that?’’
‘‘Who’s calling me? I spoke with Mayberry at the Cobber’s Wood crime scene, and it wasn’t him.’’
Garnett winced. ‘‘Maybe that’s someone else too. You said you get lots of E-mail every time they run that interview.’’
‘‘Yes. That’s true. I do.’’
‘‘Damn, all this is too complicated.’’ Garnett ran a hand through his thick hair.
‘‘What’s the profiler saying?’’ Diane asked.
‘‘That the Cobber’s Wood victims were done by a serial killer who’s probably done some people before. We’re looking for similar killings in other states now.’’
‘‘And the other murders?’’
‘‘Separate. He said something about Cobber’s Wood being an organized scene and Edwards’ scene being disorganized. He thinks Raymond Waller was killed for his collection. He talked to one of your curators or conservators, or whatever you call them, and it seems that the collection is real valuable. We ran a check on Waller’s finances, and all his spare money for as far back as we can check has gone into the collection.’’
‘‘That makes sense too,’’ said Diane.
But something she couldn’t put her finger on both ered her. Looking at all the crime scenes was like looking at an illusion and not being able to perceive the alternate point of view. If she could just see through the illusion.
‘‘You’re right,’’ she said. ‘‘This is too complicated. Perhaps we should quit looking for a connection and look at each scene as separate until we know better.’’
As she spoke, Jin showed up at the door. ‘‘Hey, Boss. I thought you’d like to know, I’ve connected two of the crime scenes.’’
Chapter 33
Jin gathered up his hair and doned a cap just before he stepped into the room. He picked up a pair of latex gloves and put them on. ‘‘I just finished with the Crown Vic, and I tell you one thing, we can find this guy by looking to see who’s walking around with a handheld vac. He’s cleaned that sucker up. Obviously been watching too many crime scene shows.’’
‘‘You said you’ve discovered a connection,’’ said Garnett. He sounded a little testy, but Jin ignored that.
‘‘Sure did. You know the bloody glove print with the tear we found at the Chris Edwards crime scene? Well, I found that same glove print on the left front fender and on the left front door of your car, Boss. He’s the guy who attacked you.’’
Diane must have looked dumfounded. Garnett certainly did. He stood there in his suit that he’d worn to Raymond’s funeral, his mouth hanging slightly open.
‘‘I thought you’d be surprised,’’ said Jin.
‘‘Are you serious?’’ said Garnett.
‘‘As a heart attack,’’ said Jin. ‘‘It’s the same glove.
Still had traces of blood on it.’’
‘‘Well, now we’ve got something,’’ Garnett said.
‘‘Okay, where does that leave us?’’
‘‘The person who attacked Dr. Fallon is the same
person who killed Chris Edwards,’’ said Jin. ‘‘He is
also the same person who stole the Crown Victoria.’’ ‘‘That means, if you’re right on the voice recogni
tion, Diane, that it was not Mayberry who killed Ed
wards. This is beginning to get as complicated as one
of those logic problems that my daughter likes to work
in her game magazines,’’ said Garnett.
‘‘I love those,’’ said Jin. ‘‘Can’t get enough of them.
I’ve even had a few of my own published in those
mags.’’ Garnett looked at Jin as if affronted by his
intelligence. Jin, obviously enjoying the moment,
pressed on. ‘‘If he’s the same person who’s been call
ing you, Boss, then that makes for a very interesting
problem.’’
‘‘How’s that?’’ asked Garnett.
‘‘Because,’’ said Diane, ‘‘the person who’s been call
ing me said he was inspired by the television
interview—that was shown before Chris Edwards
died.’’
Garnett looked surprised again and fell silent.
‘‘Okay,’’ he said. ‘‘He was contemplating killing some
one, picked out Edwards from the interview to kill,
and you to call and chat about it.’’
Diane was tempted to laugh, but she could see Garnett was serious.
‘‘You need to give this information to the profiler,’’
she said. ‘‘He’ll need it before he gets too far into his
analysis. And I have an idea. See if the university has
someone in the linguistics department who specializes
in recognizing accents and dialects. We have the caller
on tape. Maybe we can place where he grew up.’’ ‘‘That’s an idea. What department would I call?’’ ‘‘Anthropology and English. They both teach lin
guistics. I’ll ask my archaeologist if he knows anyone.
You also might try someone in speech. Sometimes
they have someone with that skill.’’
‘‘That’s a good idea.’’
‘‘It’s about time for some of the chemical analysis
on the bones and the toxicology reports from the au
topsies to come back. That could give us a lot of
information.’’
‘‘We’ve finished here.’’ David and Neva came from
the bedroom, carrying an armload of evidence bags. ‘‘Find anything useful?’’ asked Garnett.
‘‘Won’t know until we get back to the lab,’’ said
David. ‘‘By the way, I’m sending you and Sheriff Braden a copy of my report on the insects. Diane was
dead-on about the time of death for Cobber’s Wood.
Twenty-one days befor
e they were found. My insects
don’t lie.’’
Garnett nodded. ‘‘Well, Dr. Webber will be sorry
to hear that. I guess you know she pitched a fit when
you disagreed with her.’’ Apparently, Garnett didn’t
like women who pitched fits.
‘‘I got a call from her myself,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I need to go talk to Ross Kingsley,’’ said Garnett.
‘‘When you have time, come by my office. I need to
talk to you about something.’’
Diane looked at her watch. ‘‘How late will you be
there?’’
‘‘Late. Just call my cell.’’ He went out the door and
to his car.
‘‘How’d the mummy thing go?’’ asked Jin, removing
his cap and gloves outside the door with Diane, David
and Neva.
‘‘I’m going to keep the crime scene seal on,’’ said
David. ‘‘I’ll release it when the parents get to town.’’ ‘‘All right,’’ said Diane. ‘‘The mummy thing went
well. Found a tumor on one of his kidneys.’’ ‘‘Poor fellow,’’ said Jin. ‘‘Suffered all those ab
scesses, a tumor, lower back pain, and the indignity
of a Victorian unwrapping party.’’
‘‘Kendel did find the amulets that were inside his
wrappings and acquired them for the museum.’’ ‘‘Cool,’’ said Jin.
‘‘When I was little,’’ said Neva, ‘‘my grandma used
to have these party favors she called surprise balls. It
was a crepe paper streamer wrapped into a ball. As
she wrapped the crepe paper, she’d put little trinkets
in the wrapping, so that we’d find things as we un
wrapped the ball. It sounds like the idea came from
the Egyptians.’’
‘‘I’ve heard of those,’’ said David. ‘‘Be interesting
if the idea did come from the Egyptians—by way of
the Victorians, maybe?’’
Diane looked at her watch. ‘‘Damn, I’ve got to get
Andie’s car back to her so she can go home.’’ ‘‘Need some wheels, Doc?’’ asked Jin.
‘‘I should have some coming from the insurance
company. If not, I suppose I’ll be spending the night
at the museum.’’
‘‘If you need a ride, we all have cars. Doesn’t the
museum have a fleet?’’ said David.
‘‘Yes, but they are not for my personal use. Neva,
we’ll have the CT data on the mummy sometime to
morrow. I’ll show you how to use the data in the facial
reconstruction software.’’
Neva grinned broadly. ‘‘That’ll be fun. I’m looking
forward to seeing what he looked like.’’
‘‘How do you feel about doing a sculpture of him?
The museum will pay you.’’
‘‘Yes. I’d like that very much.’’
‘‘Cool,’’ said Jin. He waved and went to his car. Diane rushed back to the museum. Andie was busy
at her desk.
‘‘I hope you didn’t think you were going to be stuck
in the museum,’’ said Diane.
‘‘I knew you’d show up sooner or later.’’ Andie
grinned and grabbed her purse.
‘‘Andie, thank you so much for letting me use
your car.’’
‘‘Not a problem. Glad to do it.’’ She handed Diane
a set of keys. ‘‘Ford Explorer down in the lot. Bright
candy apple red. Can’t miss it.’’
‘‘Is this from the insurance company?’’
Andie nodded. ‘‘Nice. Only a couple of years old.
Very clean inside.’’
‘‘Thanks. I appreciate everything you do, Andie.’’ ‘‘Good. I’m working on being indispensable.’’ ‘‘You are. I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, did they tell
you about the mummy scan?’’
‘‘Kendel and Dr. Briggs came up and told me about
it. Also about the amulets. They said we’re going to
do a three-D reconstruction of the face?’’
‘‘Yes, Neva Hurley will be doing it.’’
‘‘This is going to be so nice. Dr. Fallon, I had this
idea. I’ve been looking at Egyptian stuff and what
their houses looked like with that adobe-looking wall
around the front yard and all, and I thought it would
be fun if we could re-create one in the museum. If we
can’t do a life-sized one, maybe a miniature city.’’ ‘‘Andie, I think that’s a great idea. Tell Jonas about
it tomorrow.’’
‘‘See? Indispensability—that’s who I am. See you
tomorrow.’’
Diane envied all her staff who were going home.
She sat down at her desk to have a look at her mail
and remembered that she was supposed to be having
dinner with Frank tonight. She looked at her watch.
He wouldn’t be getting home from Atlanta for an
other hour. She’d have time to go see what the heck
Garnett wanted, then go to Frank’s.
She gave her mail a brief look. Most of it was things
that Andie could take care of—or already had taken
care of. She looked at her E-mail and responded to
messages from two of her curators.
Her final message was one line, no signature. I
THINK WE SHOULD MEET.
A chill ran through her. She stared at the message
for several moments and realized that she was holding
her breath. She exhaled and started to type a re
sponse, and stopped. What would she say? What did
he want? To give up? She didn’t respond. Maybe she
and Garnett could set something up. Right, some inner
voice said, put your life in the hands of the Rosewood
police. That’s a plan.
She shut down her computer and headed out the
door. The candy apple red Ford Explorer was parked
in front of the museum. It was indeed very red. Hard
to miss. She got in and drove to the police department,
calling Garnett on the way to tell him she was coming. She showed her identification to the policeman at
the duty desk. Of the four policemen who were there,
all of them smirked at her. Even the sergeant on duty
was trying hard to make his face an objective mask.
One of these days, she’d have to sit them down and
ask what the hell their problem was.
In the detective’s squad room she was met with
more amused stares and half heard a comment that
someone would like to be a fly on that wall. Great,
Kingsley probably profiled her out to be an axemurdering maniac. She knocked on Garnett’s door.
Chapter 34
Garnett rose from behind his desk as Diane entered his office. ‘‘Diane. Please sit down.’’ He motioned toward his conference table as he pulled out a chair and sat down. Diane pulled up one of his chairs and sat down opposite. He formed his hands into a steeple and looked very uncomfortable.
‘‘Diane, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way.’’
‘‘Douglas, I pride myself in always taking things the right way.’’
He was taken aback for a moment. He looked at Diane as if there might be some coded message in what she said. Or perhaps it was her uncustomary use of his first name. But he was making this sound like a trip to the principal’s office, and she was going to stay on equal footing.
‘‘Yes, of course. It’s come to my attention . . .’’ He paused.
Come to his attention. Hadn
’t she had this conversa tion before . . . with the mayor? Perhaps that’s why he looked so uncomfortable.
‘‘Appearances are very important.’’
Okay, she thought, am I not wearing enough makeup...too much?
‘‘Yes, appearances are important, among many things.’’
‘‘What I mean is, when you get on the witness stand, you must not only be above reproach, but appear to be above reproach.’’
‘‘Like Caesar’s wife.’’
‘‘Who?’’
‘‘Never mind. Is there something you’re trying to say?’’
‘‘Defense attorneys look for the least sign of impro priety to impugn the character of a witness in order to win a case.’’
‘‘Some do. Where are we going with this con versation?’’
‘‘It has come to my attention that you are...’’ Garnett seemed to be searching for the right words. ‘‘. . . Dating men half your age.’’
Diane threw back her head and laughed—which did bewilder Garnett. He looked at her with a frown. She hardly knew where to begin her response to such an asinine statement.
‘‘I won’t even address the point of view that a woman dating younger men somehow impugns her character. I’ll simply cut to the truth of what has come to your attention. Frank Duncan is two years older than I am. Now, I realize that spending all that time in the jungle sun put a few wrinkles on my face that I wish I didn’t have, but really, Douglas, I don’t think I look almost eighty.’’
Garnett opened his mouth, then closed it and opened it again. ‘‘I don’t mean Frank.’’
‘‘He’s the only man I’m dating.’’
‘‘You’ve been seen having a romantic dinner with a much younger man who works for you.’’
Garnett settled back in his chair and from the look on his face, he did realize how ridiculous it sounded for him to call her into his office for such a nebulous thing. She was sure when it was reported to him, prob ably through Izzy’s boss, it came out something like she was some slut robbing a cradle, putting moves on her underlings.
‘‘Define romantic.’’
‘‘Well, romantic, candlelight...’’
‘‘I think I see where this originated. I ate dinner with one of the geologists who works in the museum. We belong to the same caving club and we were dis cussing caving business. The restaurant was the one at the museum. It’s on the same floor as my office, and I use it frequently. In the evening all the tables have candles. It never occurred to me to blow it out, but then I’d have been sitting in the dark.
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