The Lady Killer (3 page)

Upon entering the apartment, Laura noticed how eclectic the belongings were. There was a bit of this and a piece of that, but all thought out well and fit together like it was planned. Unlike her place, which was just a mishmash of stuff thrown together in order to survive life. Sheila seemed to have a place for everything and spared no expense. It was a clean and neat environment. Obviously, no struggle had taken place there. “So, she wasn’t at the apartment when she was abducted. Where did he get her?”

Shelia’s co-workers had said that they didn’t know of anyone she was dating. The cell phone found in her purse had her work numbers programmed in and two friends named Nancy and Byron. Laura made a note to herself to call the numbers later and request that the friends come in for questioning.

She followed Murphy into the bedroom and found nothing unusual. The bed was made, and the bathroom was neat and tidy. Her desk in the corner looked like it was never used. Sheila had a walk-in closet with about thirty pairs of shoes and matching purses. Laura inspected the amount of clothing compared to her own small, drab wardrobe. “I think she must have spent most of her income on designer clothes.”

“Don’t all women?”

“Now, Murphy, don’t tell me you’re a sexist.”

He shrugged. “No, just had a bad experience with my last girlfriend.”

“Well, we need to run her financials. From the looks of her jewelry box, she either had a very rich boyfriend who no one knew about, or being a paralegal pays a lot more than I thought.”

“Maybe he was married, and she threatened to tell his wife, so he shut her up.”

Laura smiled at him. She figured he was trying so hard because he was the new guy. “If he did, do you think he murdered five other women first to cover up the crime?”

Dan felt stupid. He was trying so hard to impress her because he really liked her. “Probably not, huh? Just thinking out loud, I guess.”

“Let’s check the car in the garage and come back to the apartment later if we need to. We also need to check with her office. There are two other keys on this ring that we have no idea what they belong to. One could be a desk key, but this Yale key has to go to a door of some kind. It could be a supply room at her job.”

They rode the elevator down to the garage and found the car. It was a sporty BMW convertible. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on it, and the interior was just as spotless. The garage door opener was attached to the driver’s visor, and a faint smell of perfume lingered. Still, Peterson decided to have CSU go over it. A call to Sheila’s job identified the desk key, but ruled out the Yale key belonging to a supply closet, which left them wondering what the key opened, and if it could possibly be any kind of clue.

Back at the precinct, Laura ordered a readout for the victim’s cell and home phones. When she dialed Nancy’s number, she found that it was out of service. Byron, however, not only answered but raised suspicion by refusing to come in for questioning. After she threatened to send a patrol car to pick him up, he reluctantly agreed to come in.

When she walked into the interrogation room, she observed a well dressed businessman with graying temples and a perturbed look on his face. “Byron, do you know why you’re here?”

“No, Detective Peterson, I don’t have a clue. I’m a very busy man, and I don’t have all day to play Twenty Questions with you, so get to the point.”

“You admitted to me on the phone that you knew Sheila Lawson, correct?”

He gave her a look of indignation. “Yes, of course I know her, that’s obvious, since you found my number on her cell phone. Why?”

She remained calmly cold and looked him directly in the eyes. “What was the nature of your relationship?”

“That’s personal and private. If she wanted you to know, I’m sure she would have told you.”

“That might be very difficult, since she’s dead.”

The look on Byron’s face was of both shock and grief. He was either a very good actor, or he knew nothing about Sheila’s death. “She’s dead? My God, you just don’t blurt something like that out to a person! Have you no decency?”

“I am sorry; my intent wasn’t to shock you. I’m investigating her murder.”

He stood up and pounded his fist on the table. “Now you’re telling me that not only is she dead but also murdered?”

“Yes, and please sit back down.”

He collapsed back in the chair. “And you think that I had something to do with that? I loved her! I would never hurt her!”

“If you loved her so much, then why didn’t you want to tell me the nature of your relationship to the victim?”

Byron had a look of disdain on his face and almost spat out his answer to her. “Don’t you call her that! She’s a real person, not just a body somewhere in your morgue! Where’s your sense of compassion? How in the hell did this happen?”

Laura was watching his reactions intently. “It happened last night. She is the latest victim in a string of serial murders.”

Byron looked truly horrified. “Dear God, no, please tell me that she didn’t fall into the hands of that butcher!”

“I’m sorry, Byron, but that is exactly what happened. I need to track her movements last night, so that I can have a chance of catching this guy before he strikes again. Were you with her, or do you know what she was doing?”

Suddenly, his whole body relaxed, and he drastically changed his demeanor. “Detective, I’m sorry I’ve been so uncooperative with you. I know you’re just doing your job. The truth is that I’m married, and I’ve been having an affair with Sheila for over a year now. I was home with my family last night, so I couldn’t call her. She told me she was going to meet her friend Nancy for a drink after work and then head home for the evening. Are you going to have to contact my wife for an alibi?”

Laura’s eyes narrowed, and she tried to hold back the contempt she felt for the cheating bastard. “No, not unless I find out that you’ve lied to me or are connected in some way to the other women in this case. You’re free to go now, and I’m sorry for your loss.”

He looked sad. “Sorry for my loss? There are no words for what I have lost. She was a warm and wonderful person. I will miss her desperately!”

With Byron cleared and Nancy’s phone being disconnected, Peterson was back to square one. She headed down to the forensics lab, to see if they had turned up anything else from the crime scene or Sheila’s purse. On the way there, she ran into Detective Burns. Roy was around her age and more than a little bit overweight. They had worked together for a long time. He had been gone for a week, and she was relieved to see him back because she depended on him. “Boy, I’m glad to see you! Did you and your family have a nice vacation?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t long enough. Has Murf been taking up my slack?”

“He’s working out surprisingly well. But he’s no Roy Burns.”

He gave her a big grin. “Give him time. I heard we had another victim?”

“Yes, the file is up on my desk. I’m on my way to forensics.”

“Okay, I’ll take a look at it. Great way to start my first day back, huh?”

“Yes, but Murphy will be happy to have his buddy around. We both missed you.”

At the forensic department it was the same old news. No prints or DNA on anything, and they had sent the cigarette butts out for analysis. There were some blonde hairs found at the scene. Sheila was a brunette and had not been wearing a wig. Or, if she had, the guy had taken it with him along with her clothes. In her purse they found a package of matches from a local bar. The only prints on it were the victim’s, but there was an address for the place, so she went upstairs to get Burns for a road trip. She asked Murphy to start comparing the files of the other victims with Sheila’s, and he told her that he was already on it.

The bar turned out to be just down the street from Sheila’s office. Sam, the bartender on duty, said that Sheila was a regular and for the last month had been meeting a woman named Nancy. Laura was hoping to get a lead on this woman. “What did this Nancy look like?”

“She was very tall and well built, with blonde hair cut like Carol Channing’s. Sorry, I’m showing my age. You probably don’t even know who Carol Channing is.”

“Actually, I do. She was one of my mother’s favorites. Anything else you can tell me about her? Color of eyes, the way she dressed?”

“I never saw her eyes. She wore these very large, tinted glasses and big earrings. She dressed pretty sharp. Always carried a briefcase, I guess she had a job like Sheila’s. You know, she looked like the lawyer type, or something. She was always bitching about Sheila.”

Laura’s interest was piqued. “What was she complaining about?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Sheila was a nice girl, but she was always late. Nancy would sit here, sometimes for an hour, waiting on Sheila just like last night. So, while she sat there I would hear all the complaints. No matter where they went, Nancy was always left sitting. She seemed to have a real problem with inconsiderate people.”

“I guess we all fall in that category at some point in our lives. I had an ex who couldn’t be on time to save his life. So, they were in here last night?”

“Yep, they left together about seven. Nancy seemed real upset and said that they were going to be late, but I didn’t hear where they were going. Probably out to eat. That’s what they usually did after they left here. Sorry to hear about Sheila, I liked her.”

“Thanks for your time, Sam. Here’s my card in case you remember anything else that you think might be useful. If you see Nancy in here again, please give me a call immediately. I really need to know where they went.”

On the way back to the office, Peterson filled Burns in on their trip to Sheila’s apartment, the dead security guard and Sheila’s married boyfriend. When they returned, they found Murphy up to his eyeballs in paperwork. “Gosh, we’re getting nowhere on these cases! Did you guys get anything new at the bar?”

Laura noted in her mind that he was really working hard. “Well, we found out that Sheila met this Nancy there regularly and was late most of the time. Nancy bent the bartender’s ear about it constantly. They were there last night and left together, so we need to find this woman.”

Dan was happy to see his partner. Roy always stood up for him when he was feeling like the inadequate new kid on the block around Homicide. “Hey, Burns, good to have you back! I hope you guys had a fun vacation. We sure need your help.”

“Thanks, Murf, you found anything new in those files that we can work with?”

“I have noticed that if this guy has a type, it isn’t obvious what type that is. All of these women appear to be really different. I thought serial killers had a type, Peterson.”

“Fortunately, I haven’t worked that many serial cases, but you’re right. Most of them do have a type, and there’s probably a thread running through all these cases, which we just haven’t found yet. You’re also right about the fact that none of these women seem to have anything in common. Roy and I were talking about that, just before he left on vacation. They have different professions, hair and eye color, height, weight, hobbies and interests. Nothing seems to tie them together, other than the killer himself. We still have that Yale key to figure out.”

Burns looked puzzled. “What key is that?”

“Murphy and I found a Yale key on Sheila’s ring, and we can’t find something that it fits.”

“Interesting, do you think there’s anything to that?”

“Maybe not, but if you have to lock something up, it must be a secret. And you know how I hate secrets in murder cases.”

Both Murphy and Burns laughed together about that statement. Around the precinct, Peterson was known as the “Bulldog”. Once she got her teeth into something, she wouldn’t let go. They watched as she answered her phone, hoping it was some good news.

“Peterson….. Okay, thanks. Let me know if you find anything else.”

Roy looked concerned. “What was it?”

“That was the lab. They found the same blonde hair in Sheila’s car that was at the crime scene, and we just found out that Nancy is a blonde.”

“What do you think that means?”

“Probably, not much. Nancy and Sheila were friends and had just been together last night. So, it wouldn’t be unusual for Sheila to have some of Nancy’s hair on her clothes, or even in her car. They could’ve fallen off when he undressed her. I just wish we could find this Nancy somewhere, so I could ask if she knows where Sheila went later last night. Maybe she’ll turn up back at the bar. None of the other cases have involved anyone named Nancy or blonde, female friends, so I’m not too worried about the hair. In the mean time, forensics is testing the cigarette butts for DNA. The paint used to draw the pentagram was ordinary, black, latex paint, nothing special about that. We really need to get a lead from somewhere, before this nutcase strikes again!”

Roy was watching over her shoulder. “Heads up, here comes Rutledge!”

Captain Paul Rutledge was a dapper, older, African-American man who had worked his way up in the ranks from being a beat cop. They all respected him for being fair, even when he had to push them really hard about a case. “Detective Burns, good to see you back in the fold.”

Roy gave him a playful salute. “Good to be back, Sir.”

“I just talked to the company that patrols the murder scene property. That security guard was on duty there almost every night. He only had Wednesdays off. There are six buildings. That’s the only one, which is completely vacant. Our killer must have known that. Somehow, he’s always one step ahead of us. I want all of you to go home and be back here first thing in the morning ready to work. We’re going to take these files apart with a fine toothed comb. Peterson, that goes double for you. Get some rest! You’re no good to me as a zombie!”