Perhaps it was also his way of telling the world how sorry he was.
Because he was sorry. He’d go to the florist tomorrow and buy flowers – a cheap little bouquet – for the family. He couldn’t talk to the florist, but he could write out simple instructions. The gift would be anonymous. And if he could find a good place to hide, he’d stand near the grave when they buried her, bowing his head like any other mourner.
He pulled another chain taut on his workbench, clenching its ends as tightly as he could, applying all his strength to it, silencing its rattle. But deep down, he knew that this wasn’t enough to make him master of the chains. For that, he’d have to put the chains to use again. And he’d use one of the straitjackets still in his possession. Someone must be bound, as he’d been bound.
Someone else would have to suffer and die.
Chapter 8
As soon as Riley and Lucy stepped off the FBI plane, a young uniformed cop came dashing toward them across the tarmac.
“Boy, am I glad to see you guys,” he said. “Chief Alford’s fit to be tied. If somebody doesn’t take Rosemary’s body down directly, he’s liable to have a stroke. Reporters are already all over this. I’m Tim Boyden.”
Riley’s heart sank as she and Lucy introduced themselves. Media on the scene so quickly was a sure sign of trouble. The case was off to a rocky start.
“Can I help you carry anything?” Officer Boyden asked.
“We’re good,” Riley said. She and Lucy had only a couple of small bags.
Officer Boyden pointed across the tarmac.
“The car’s right over there,” he said.
The three of them walked briskly to the car. Riley got in on the front passenger side, while Lucy took the back seat.
“We’re just a couple of minutes from town,” Boyden said as he started to drive. “Man, I can’t believe this is happening. Poor Rosemary. Everybody liked her so much. She was always helping people. When she disappeared a couple of weeks ago, we were all scared for the worst. But we couldn’t have imagined …”
His voice trailed off and he shook his head in horrified disbelief.
Lucy leaned forward from the back seat.
“I understand that you had a murder like this before,” she said.
“Yeah, back when I was still in high school,” Boyden said. “Not right here in Reedsport, though. It was near Eubanks, farther south along the river. A body in chains, just like Rosemary. Wearing a straitjacket too. Is the chief right? Do we have a serial on our hands?”
“We’re not ready to say,” Riley said.
The truth was, she thought that the chief must be right. But the young officer seemed upset enough already. There seemed no point in alarming him further.
“I can’t believe it,” Boyden said, shaking his head again. “A nice little town like ours. A nice lady like Rosemary. I can’t believe it.”
As they drove into town, Riley saw a couple of vans with TV news crews on its little main street. A helicopter with a TV station logo was circling above the town.
Boyden drove to a barricade where a small cluster of reporters had gathered. An officer waved the car on through. Just a few seconds later, Boyden pulled the car alongside a stretch of railroad track. There was the body, hanging from a power pole. Several uniformed policemen were standing a few yards away from it.
As Riley stepped out of the car, she recognized Chief Raymond Alford as he trotted toward her. He looked none too happy.
“I sure as hell hope you had a good reason for us keeping the body hanging here like this,” he said. “We’ve had a nightmare on our hands. The mayor’s threatening to take my badge.”
Riley and Lucy followed him toward the body. In the late afternoon sunlight, it looked even weirder than it had in the photos Riley had viewed on her computer. The stainless steel chains sparkled in the light.
“I take it you’ve cordoned off the scene,” Riley said to Alford.
“We’ve done it as best we could,” Alford said. “We’ve got the area barricaded far enough away that nobody can see the body except from the river. We’ve rerouted the trains to go around the town. It’s slowing them down and playing havoc with their schedule. That must be how the Albany news channels found out that something was going on. They sure didn’t hear about it from my people.”
As Alford spoke, his voice was drowned out by the TV helicopter as it hovered directly overhead. He gave up trying to say what he meant to say. Riley could read the profanities on his lips as he looked up at the aircraft. Without rising, the helicopter swung away in a circle. The pilot obviously intended to circle back this way.
Alford took out his cell phone. When he got someone on the line, he yelled, “I told you to keep your damned chopper away from the site. Now tell your pilot to take that thing up above five hundred feet. It’s the law.”
From Alford’s expression, Riley suspected that the person on the other end was giving him some resistance.
Finally Alford said, “If you don’t get that bird out of here right now, your reporters are going to be barred from the news conference I’ll be giving this afternoon.”
His face relaxed a little. He looked up and waited. Sure enough, after a few moments the helicopter rose to a more reasonable height. The noise from its engine still filled the air with a loud and steady drone.
“God, I hope we don’t get a lot more of this,” Alford growled. “Maybe when we cut the body down, there’ll be less here to attract them. Still, in the short run, I guess there’s an upside. The hotels and B&Bs are getting some extra business. Restaurants too – reporters have got to eat. But in the long run? It’s bad if tourists get scared off from Reedsport.”
“You’ve done a good job keeping them away from the scene,” Riley said.
“I guess that’s something,” Alford said. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
Alford led Riley and Lucy nearer to the suspended body. The body was held in a makeshift chain harness that wrapped around and around it. The harness was tied to a heavy rope that looped through a steel pulley attached to a high crossbeam. The rest of the rope descended to the ground at a sharp angle.
Riley could see the woman’s face now. Once again, her resemblance to Marie shot through her like an electric shock – the same silent pain and anguish that her friend’s face had displayed after she’d hanged herself. The bulging eyes and the chain that gagged the mouth made the sight all the more disturbing.
Riley looked at her new partner to see how she was reacting. Somewhat to her surprise, she saw that Lucy was already taking notes.
“Is this your first murder scene?” Riley asked her.
Lucy simply nodded while she wrote and observed. Riley thought she was taking the sight of the corpse awfully well. A lot of rookies would be off vomiting in the bushes at this point.
By contrast, Alford looked decidedly queasy. Even after all these hours, he hadn’t gotten used to it. For his sake, Riley hoped that he’d never need to.
“Not much of a smell yet,” Alford said.
“Not yet,” Riley said. “She’s still in a state of autolysis, mostly just internal cell breakdown. It’s not hot enough to speed the putrefaction process along. The body hasn’t started melting down from the inside. That’s when the smell would get really bad.”
Alford looked more and more pale at this kind of talk.
“What about rigor mortis?” Lucy asked.
“She’s in full rigor, I’m sure,” Riley said. “She probably will be for another twelve hours.”
Lucy still didn’t look the least bit fazed. She just kept jotting down more notes.
“Have you figured out how the killer got her up there?” Lucy asked Alford.
“We’ve got a pretty good idea,” Alford said. “He climbed up and tied the pulley in place. Then he hauled the body up. You can see how it’s anchored.”
Alford pointed to a bundle of iron weights lying next to the tracks. The rope was tied through holes in the weights, knotted carefully so that it wouldn’t come loose. The weights were the kind that might be found in weight machines at a gym.
Lucy bent down and looked at the weights more closely.
“There’s almost enough weight here to completely counterbalance the body,” Lucy said. “Odd that he dragged all this heavy stuff with him. You’d think he’d have just tied the rope directly to the pole.”
“What does that tell you?” Riley asked.
Lucy thought for a moment.
“He’s small and not very strong,” Lucy said. “The pulley didn’t give him enough leverage by itself. He needed the weights to help him.”
“Very good,” Riley said. Then she pointed to the opposite side of the train tracks. For a brief stretch, a partial tire track veered off the nearby pavement onto to the dirt. “And you can see that he pulled his vehicle up very close. He had to. He couldn’t drag the body very far on his own.”
Riley examined the ground near the power pole and found sharp indentations in the earth.
“It looks like he used a ladder,” she said.
“Yeah, and we found the ladder,” Alford said. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Alford led Riley and Lucy across the tracks to a weather-beaten warehouse made of corrugated steel. There was a broken lock hanging from the hasp of the door.
“You can see how he broke in here,” Alford said. “It was easy enough to do. A pair of bolt cutters would have done the trick. This warehouse isn’t used for much, just long-term storage, so it’s not very secure.”
Alford opened the door and switched on the fluorescent overhead lights. The place was, indeed, mostly empty, except for a few shipping crates swarming with cobwebs. Alford pointed to a tall ladder leaning against the wall next to the door.
“There’s the ladder,” he said. “We found fresh dirt on its feet. It probably belongs here, and the killer knew about it. He broke in, dragged it out, and climbed it to tie the pulley in place. Once he got the body where he wanted it, he dragged the ladder back here. Then he drove off.”
“Maybe he got the pulley from inside the warehouse too,” Lucy suggested.
“The front of this warehouse is lit up at night,” Alford said. “So he’s bold, and I’ll bet he’s pretty fast, even if he isn’t very strong.”
At that moment there came a sharp, loud crack outside.
“What the hell?” Alford yelled.
Riley knew immediately that it was a gunshot.
Chapter 9
Alford drew his gun and charged out of the warehouse. Riley and Lucy followed with their hands on their own weapons. Outside, something was hovering in circles around the pole where the body was hanging. It made a steady buzzing sound.
Young Officer Boyden had his pistol drawn. He had just taken a shot at the small drone that was circling the body and was getting ready to take another.
“Boyden, put that damned gun away!” Alford shouted. He holstered his own weapon.
Boyden turned toward Alford with surprise. Just as he was putting away his weapon, the drone rose higher and flew away.
The chief was fuming.
“What the hell did you think you were doing, firing your weapon like that?” he snarled at Boyden.
“Protecting the scene,” Boyden said. “It’s probably some blogger taking pictures.”
“Probably,” Alford said. “And I don’t like that any more than you do. But it’s illegal to shoot those things down. Besides, this is a populated area. You ought to know better.”
Boyden hung his head sheepishly.
“Sorry, sir,” he said.
Alford turned toward Riley.
“Drones, hell!” he said. “I sure do hate the twenty-first century. Agent Paige, please tell me we can take that body down now.”
“Have you got more pictures than the ones I saw?” Riley asked.
“Lots of them, showing every little detail,” Alford said. “You can look at them in my office.”
Riley nodded. “I’ve seen what I needed to see here. And you’ve done a good job keeping the scene under control. Go ahead and cut her down.”
Alford said to Boyden, “Call the county coroner. Tell him he can stop waiting around twiddling his thumbs.”
“Got it, Chief,” Boyden said, taking out his cell phone.
“Come on,” Alford said to Riley and Lucy. He led them to his police car. When they got in and were on their way, a cop waved the car past the barricade onto the main street.
Riley took careful note of the route. The killer would have brought his vehicle in and out along this same route that both Boyden and Alford used. There was no other way into the area between the warehouse and the train tracks. It seemed likely that someone would have seen the killer’s vehicle, although they might not have thought it unusual.
The Reedsport Police Department was nothing more than a little brick storefront right on the town’s main street. Alford, Riley, and Lucy went inside and sat down in the chief’s office.
Alford placed a stack of folders on his desk.
“Here’s everything we’ve got,” he said. “The complete file on the old case from five years ago, and everything so far on last night’s murder.”
Riley and Lucy each took a folder and began to browse through it. Riley’s attention was drawn to the photos of the first case.
The two women were similar in age. The first one worked in a prison, which put her at some degree of risk for possible victimization. But the second one would be considered a lower risk victim. And there was no indication that either of them frequented bars or other places that would make them especially vulnerable. In both cases, those who knew the women had described them as friendly, helpful, and conventional. And yet, there had to be some factor that drew the killer to these particular women.
“Did you make any headway on Marla Blainey’s murder?” Riley asked Alford.
“It was under the jurisdiction of the Eubanks police. Captain Lawson. But I worked with him on it. We found out nothing useful. The chains were perfectly ordinary. The killer could have picked them up at any hardware store.”
Lucy leaned toward Riley to look at the same pictures.
“Still, he did buy a lot of them,” Lucy said. “You’d think some clerk would have noticed someone buying so many chains.”
Alford nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, that’s what we thought at the time. But we contacted hardware stores all around these parts. None of the clerks picked up on any unusual sales like that. He must have bought a few at a time, here and there, without attracting a lot of attention. By the time he got around to the murder, he had big pile of them handy. Maybe he still does.”
Riley peered closely at the straitjacket the woman was wearing. It looked identical to the one used to bind last night’s victim.
“What about the straitjacket?” Riley asked.
Alford shrugged. “You’d think something like that would be easy to track. But we got nothing. It’s standard issue in psychiatric hospitals. We checked all the hospitals throughout the state, including one real close by. Nobody noticed any straitjackets missing or stolen.”
A silence fell as Riley and Lucy continued looking at reports and photos. The bodies had been left within ten miles of each other. That indicated that the killer probably didn’t live too far away. But the first woman’s corpse had been dumped unceremoniously on a riverbank. Over the five years between murders, the killer’s attitude had changed in some way.
“So what do you make of this guy?” Alford asked. “Why the straitjacket and all the chains? Doesn’t that seem like overkill?”
Riley thought for a moment.
“Not in his mind,” she said. “It’s about power. He wants to restrict his victims not just physically but symbolically. It goes way beyond the practical. It’s about taking away the victim’s power. The killer wants to make a real point of that.”
“But why women?” Lucy asked. “If he wants to disempower his victims, wouldn’t it be more dramatic with men?”
“It’s a good question,” Riley replied. She thought back to the crime scene – how the body had been so carefully counterbalanced.
“But remember, he’s not very strong,” Riley said. “It might be partly a matter of choosing easier targets. Middle-aged women like these would probably put up less of a fight. But they also probably stand for something in his mind. They weren’t selected as individuals, but as women– and whatever it is that women represent to him.”