Drug deal gone bad? Someone holding out on someone?
Were you first on scene? Quinn asked, reaching Larues side. The detective stood still. Quinn knew he was taking in the roomeverything about it.
Larue was a good-looking man with short-cropped hair. His face was a character studythe lines drawn into his features clearly portrayed the complexity of his work and the seriousness with which he faced it. Hed been a damned good partner when theyd worked together, and now that Quinn had been out of the force for several years and worked in the private sector as a PI, they got along just as well together when Larue called him in as a consultant. Even when theyd been partners, Larue had never really wanted to know how Quinn came up with his theories and conclusions. What he didnt know meant he couldnt question Quinns credibility or his methods.
Larue gave him a questioning glance. First on the scene were two patrol officers. Since it was pretty evident this man was dead and most likely Lawrence Barrett, whos lived at this address for several years, they steered clear of him and did their best to check the premises for the killer without touching anything. Then I arrived. Damned ugly, right? And no sign of a clear motive. It looks like drugs were involved, but you and I both know looks can be deceiving. Its about as ugly as anything Ive ever seen, though.
It was possible to learn a lot about murderand murderers. But no amount of profiling killers, studying the human mindor even learning from those who had committed horrendous crimes and been caughtcould fully prepare anyone, even those in law enforcement, for the next killer he or she might encounter.
Ugly and brutal, Quinn agreed.
What do you see? Larue asked him.
A dead man and a hell of a lot of liquor and drugsnot to mention a fat wad of money, Quinn said. Doesnt look like the motive was robberyor not a typical robbery, anyway. You have a tortured dead man. Hard to discern, given the extent of the damage, but he appears to be in his late twenties to early thirties. Caucasian, say six-foot even and two hundred pounds. From the bleeding, looks like death came from a slit throat, with the facial beating coming post-mortem. Not a lot of blood sprayblood soaked into his clothing and pooled at his feet, but there is that spot on the floor near the entrance. Theres no sign of forced entry, so its my best guess he answered the door and let his killer inwhich suggests that he knew his attacker or at least expected him. I doubt it was a drug buy, since so many drugs are still here. He lets whoever in. Whatever social discourse they engage in takes place therefour or five feet in. The attacker most likely disables his victim with a blow to the head, maybe even knocks him out. Dr. Hubert will have to determine what occurred, because the face and head are so swollen, I cant tell. When the victim is knocked out or too hurt to put up a fight, the killer drags him into the chair and ties him to it. What seems odd to me is that the attacker did all thisbut apparently came unprepared. Everything he used on the victim he seems to have found right here, in the house. And what happened wasnt just violent, it was overkill.
Dr. Hubert looked up from his work and cleared his throat. Based on his ID, this gentleman indeed iswasLawrence Barrett, thirty-three, and according to his drivers license, five foot eleven. Id have to estimate his weight, too, but Id say youre right in the ballpark.
Just as Quinn considered Larue one of the best detectives in the city, in his mind Ron Hubert was the best MEnot just in the city, but one of the finest to be found anywhere. Of course, it was true that Quinn had a history of working with Huberteven when Hubert had been personally involved in a bizarre case that had centered around a painting done by one of Huberts ancestors. The more he worked with the ME, the more he liked and respected him.
Quinn turned to Larue. How was he found? Anyone see the killer coming or going?
Barrett has a girlfriend by the name of Lacey Cavanaugh. She doesnt have a key, though. She came, couldnt get in, looked through the window and freaked out. The owner of the building, Liana Ruby, lives in the other half of the building, heard her screaming and called the police, Larue said. Mrs. Ruby didnt hear a thing. But then, shes eighty-plus and was out at the hairdressers part of the day. Not to mention theres special insulation between the walls, toothe former tenant was a drummer, who put it in to keep his practice sessions from disturbing the neighbors. She gave the responding officers the key, but she didnt step foot inside the apartment. She says she never doessays Barrett has always been good, paid his rent early, was polite and courteous at all times.
So where is Mrs. Ruby now? Quinn asked.
Lying down next door. I told you, shes over eighty.
What about the girlfriend? Quinn asked.
Shes at the hospital. She was with the officers when they opened the door, and when she got a good look at...she went hysterical and tripped down the steps, Larue told him. She was still here when I arrived, though, and I interviewed her. She said he didnt have any enemies as far as he knew. He might have been a coke freak and a potheadand even an alcoholicbut he was a nice guy who was great to her and tended to be overly generous with everyone. Larue held his notepad, but he didnt so much as glance at his notes. He could just about recite word for word anything hed heard in the first hour or so after responding to a case.
Okay, so. A nice guy with no known enemiesand a street fortune of drugs still in front of himwas tortured and killed. Do we know what he did for a living? Quinn asked.
Musician, Larue told him. Apparently he did so much studio work that money wasnt an issue.
Quinn looked over at the body again, shaking his head. No defensive wounds, right? he asked Dr. Hubert.
No. I dont think he even saw the first blow coming, Hubert said. Of course, I dont like answering too many questions until Ive completed the autopsy.
For now, your best guesstimates are entirely appreciated, Quinn said.
So? Larue asked Quinn as the ME went back to examining the body.
Hmm, Quinn murmured. Even if he made a good living, a drug habit is expensive. I dont know how far youve gotten with this. Do we know if hed borrowed any money from the wrong people? Or, following a different track, did Lacey Cavanaugh have a jealous ex?
Shes in surgery for a badly smashed kneecap at the moment. Those are steep steps, you might have noticed, Larue said. The hospital has informed me that well be able to talk to her in a few hours.
Good. That could be important information, Quinn said.
This murder was, beyond a doubt, brutal to the extreme. And while Quinn, like most of the world, wanted to believe that every human life was equal to every other human life, in the workings of any law-enforcement department there were always those that demanded different attention. Larue was usually brought in on high-profile cases, cases that involved multiple victims, and those that involved something...unusual.
This murder, Quinn decided, was bizarre enough to warrant Larues interest.
It struck Quinn then that he had missed something he should have seen straight off. He realized that the photos on the walls were all of the same manundoubtedly the dead manwith different musicians and producers of note.
This murder, Quinn decided, was bizarre enough to warrant Larues interest.
It struck Quinn then that he had missed something he should have seen straight off. He realized that the photos on the walls were all of the same manundoubtedly the dead manwith different musicians and producers of note.
What he didnt see anywhere in the photos or the room was a musical instrument. Of course, it was possible Barrett kept his instrument in another room, but...
What did he play? Quinn asked. Do we know that?
Half a dozen instruments. The man was multitalented.
Quinn was surprised to get his answer from abovethe top of a narrow stairway on the left side of the room.
He saw Grace Leon up there and knew he shouldnt have been surprised. Jake Larue liked Ron Huberts work as an ME, and he liked Grace Leons unit of crime scene technicians. Grace was small, about forty, with hair that resembled a steel-wool pad. She was, however, energy in motion, and while detectives liked to do the questioning and theorizing, Grace had a knack for pointing out the piece of evidence that could cement a caseor put cracks the size of the Grand Canyon into a faulty theory. She was swift, thorough and efficient, and her people loved her. Larue had a knack for surrounding himself with the crews he wanted.
Hey, Grace, he said. Thanks. I take it you found a lot of instruments?
Theres a room up here filled with them. But more than thatIve seen this guy play. He grew up in Houma. Ive seen him at Jazz Festand Ive seen him a few times on Frenchman Street. He played a mean harmonica, and Ive seen him play keyboard, guitar, basseven the drums.
This is a competitive town, and he was obviously in demand, but why the hell kill a musicianand so violently? Larue said thoughtfully.
Did anything appear to be missing up there? Quinn asked Grace.
Not that I can tell, she said. But youre welcome to come up here and look for yourself.
Quinn intended to.
He definitely played guitar, Hubert noted. I can see the calluses on his fingers.
A musician. Tortured, brutally killed, Quinn said. Drugs everywhere. And nothing appears to be missing.
Its not the first such murder, either, Larue said.
Oh?
We had a murder last weekthis one is too similar to be a coincidence. A man named Holton Morelli was tortured then bashed to death with one of his own amplifiers, Larue said.
He was a musician, too, I take it? Quinn asked.
Larue nodded.
What did he play? Was his instrument found in his place? Quinn asked.
He was like Barrett. Played all kinds of things. Piano, a couple of guitars, a ukulelehe had a whole studio in his place, Larue said. No surprise. This is a city that loves music. Half the people here sing or play at least one instrument.
Quinn was well aware of that. He loved what he did and considered it as much a calling as a job, but he loved music, too. He played the guitar, though certainly not half as well as most of the guitarists in the city. But whether he was playing or not, he loved living in New Orleans and being surrounded by music pretty much 24/7, from the big names who popped down for Jazz Fest to the performers who made their living playing on the streets.
He forced his attention back to the case. Two musicians were dead, but nothingincluding their instrumentsappeared to be missing. But theyd both been torturedwhich might mean that the killer wanted some kind of information from them before he finished them off. Or that the killer was a psycho who just liked inflicting pain.
I have a feeling something has to be missing, Quinn said aloud.
But what? Larue asked.
If not an instrument, maybe a piece of music, Quinn said. Two musicians are dead, and there has to be a reason. I cant believe anyone was so jealous of someone elses talent that they resorted to murder. There has to be more going on here. If Im right about something being missing, its crucial for us to figure out what.
Larue nodded. In Holton Morellis case, its not going to be easy. He lived alone. He was fifty-six and just lost his wife to cancer. His one son is in the service. He was given leave to come home, but to the best of his knowledge, nothing was missing from the house, but of course he hasnt been there for a while, so...
Same area of the city? Quinn asked.
Larue shook his head. Faubourg Marigny.
Since I didnt see the other crime scene, Quinn said, what else was similar?
Enough to point to there being one killer, Larue said. Holton Morelli was bashed in the head after letting his murderer into his house. Then he was tied to a chair with electrical tape, tortured and beaten to a pulp with an amp.
Tortured how? Quinn asked.
Burns from a cigarette, Dr. Hubert put in, nodding.
Ill need to see his file, Quinn said. The killer tortured those men because he wanted something. I cant imagine these guys werent willing to give it up. They would have been ready to do anything to save their lives.
Once they were attacked, the murderer had to kill them if he wanted to escape being accused of the crime, Larue pointed out. Why not just give up the information before it got to that point?
Maybe they didnt know the information the killer wanted, Quinn suggested.
Can we be sure the killer wanted something? Maybe he just enjoyed torture. There are sadists out there who do, Larue reminded him.
Quinn nodded. Thats true. But Id bet this killer wanted something.
Youre probably right, and well have to discover what it is. Larue stared at Quinn assessingly. Im sure youll find out what it is. Why the hell do you think I called you in? He smiled. Not to mention you play the guitar and have at least a passing familiarity with the local music scene.
Quinn lowered his head, grinning. Thanks.
You coming on up? Grace called down to Quinn.
Yep, right now.
He headed up the stairs. Larue didnt follow him; he was still concentrating on the body and the surrounding area.
Were examining everything in the place, Grace said, but there were no glasses out, no cigarette buttsI dont believe there was any socializing before the killer made his move.
I agree. The way I see it, Barrett let the killer in, a few words were exchanged and then the killer decked him, Quinn said.
Based on the evidence, I agree. That splotch by the door could have come from a facial wound. My guess is, analysis will show its mixed with saliva, Grace said. I suspect he was stunned by the blow, which the killer delivered right inside the door, or even that he was knocked out stone-cold. Were searching the place thoroughly. At some point the killer was probably in every room, looking for...whatever. Anyway, come in and check out the music room.
Quinn followed her through the first door on the upper level. A drum set took up most of one corner; two guitars and a bass sat in their stands nearby. A few tambourines lay in a basket, and a keyboard on a stand was pushed up against one wall. A tipped-over saxophone stand sat underneath the keyboard, but there was no sign of the sax itself or its case. There didnt appear to be room for another instrument, but there was no way to know for sure without asking someone whod been there before.