BODY COUNT: Killers (a novel): Chapter 7. Dead End

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Once back in his office, Blake closed the file on the June Killer. He had to face the fact that until the killer struck again there wasn’t much hope of catching him. His research team would be busy gathering pieces of the puzzle and, hopefully, by the following June, they’d have a picture as to how he operated. In the meantime, Blake’s new ground troops could start on the other murders that Peter’s computer had discovered looked like serial killings.
    Overall, his day hadn’t gone that badly. Getting clearance for his off-the-books operative had been the real worry, and it turned out fine. Now it was time to put the team together and get to work. He sent a text to everybody that there would be a meeting at 8:30 in the morning.
    While he had his phone out he called Captain Williams of the Bartlett PD. “How’s it going, Randy? This is Blake.”
    “It’s going okay, Blake. How’re you doing?”
    “I haven’t heard back from your Detective Winters. What’s his story?”
    “Hell, Blake, I told him to call you as soon as he had the information you wanted. Our guy wasn’t gay. He was married with a kid and was on his way home. I’m sorry Jerry didn’t call. I’ll have a word or two with him.”
    “That’s okay, Randy. Don’t make a big deal out of it – the guy just forgot. We all do that.”
    “If there’s anything else you need, let me know.”
    “Thank you, Randy. We’ll need to catch a beer one night.”
    “You got it.”
    Blake thought about calling Captain Wainwright of Germantown, but there was really no need now. If Randy’s guy wasn’t gay, then it wasn’t a hate crime and Blake was back where he started – a serial killer.

Earlier that day, Taylor and Bob had walked through the swinging doors to find an empty morgue. “Hey, Morgan. Where the hell are you?”
    The door to their left opened and Medical Examiner Keeler stepped out. He had a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. “This is my lunch break. I’ve been here since 5 o’clock this morning, so get the fuck out of here.”
    “It’s me, Taylor Manning.”
    Morgan took a bite of his sandwich and looked over the top of his glasses. “Hell, Taylor, I think this is the first time I have ever seen you out of uniform.”
    “This is Robert Rivers. He’s with Homeland Security and would like to examine the body of Tommy Warner.”
    “I fucking knew it! It’s a serial killing, isn’t it?”
    Bob put out his hand and the two shook. “Dr. Keeler, I’d like you to walk me through the examination. I understand there are three men with the same wounds?”
    “Let me put this sandwich away and I’ll be happy to explain my findings. I’m glad there’s somebody who doesn’t think he’s smarter than me. Taylor, if you run across Blake Harris, you tell him I said to kiss my ass.”
    Keeler came back out of the little lunchroom and started walking down the row of bright doors along the wall. “They’re back here. I have only two of them – the third was buried – and I kept these two together. I knew someone would come to their senses sooner or later.”
    From the cooler, Morgan pulled out the two metal trays the bodies had been laid on and talked them through his examination of the bodies. Bob was impressed with Dr. Keeler and had only one question: “Was there any sign of drugs or alcohol in their systems?”
    Morgan handed Bob the files. “No, all three were clean. Also, I checked for any sexual involvement and there was none. I ran DNA tests on the clothes and the body, and I don’t think the killer touched any of them.”
    Bob thumbed through the files and then pulled off his gloves and handed them back. “I think we’re done here. Thank you so much for your help, Dr. Keeler.”
    “Please, call me Morgan. Everybody else does.”
    Bob smiled and Taylor said, “Once again, thank you, Morgan, for all your help.” He and Bob nodded and left.
    As they walked to their car, Taylor said, “Well, that sure went better than I thought it would. Did Morgan miss something?”
    Bob opened the passenger door and got in. “No. I wish he had, but there’s nothing to miss. The killer had no interaction with the body at all. I don’t think he even placed a hand on the shoulder of the victim to steady his aim. He came up from behind and drove the blade home. This one is not going to be easy. We’ll have to catch him in the act of killing because he leaves no clues.”
    They drove back to headquarters, each thinking his own thoughts. Taylor parked and they went inside. “Blake isn’t going to be happy with this report,” he said.
    In the elevator, Bob said, “I could be missing something myself. Every killer leaves some trail. Their habits don’t change once they find a rhythm that feels good to them, so any mistake will be repeated. But damn, what is it?”
    Taylor knocked on Blake’s door.
    “Come in.”
    The two entered and sat in the chairs in front of Blake’s desk. “Well, what did you find out?”
    “Nothing, boss.”
    Blake looked at Bob. “Is that true?”
    Bob felt uncomfortable in the hot seat. “You’re damn lucky; you’ve got a really good medical examiner. I couldn’t find anything that Dr. Keeler missed, he covered all the bases.”
    Blake wasn’t happy and the tone of his voice relayed it. “So, what’s your recommendation? We just give up?”
    “Hold on,” Bob said, “something may have just clicked. I have always said that every killer has a bad habit. Maybe our June Killer uses the same knife over and over. I’m going to have Morgan check the wounds for DNA. It isn’t normally done, but with the bodies of Tommy Warner and one of the other victims right there, Morgan can check, and there’s a chance Warner’s DNA will show up in the other man’s wound, which would mean that the killer doesn’t clean the knife after his kills.”
    Taylor was shaking his head. “What damn good does that do us?”
    Bob was smiling. “It means we won’t have to catch him in the act of killing. He’ll have a knife with any number of people’s DNA on it.”
    Blake waved his arm toward the door. “All right, the two of you get out of here and figure out how we can catch this asshole so we can run tests on his knife.”
    Blake watched them walk toward the Operations Room, thinking that what he’d just requested wasn’t much to hope for.
    He took out his cell phone and called the number of his undercover operative, code-named Rainbow. The phone rang twice before a voice said, “Hello.”
    “Your deal is in place. Call cell phone number two tomorrow afternoon. I’ll have something for you.”
    They both disconnected. The only contact Blake would have with his man would be when Rainbow checked in once a day on Blake’s burner phone. If Rainbow missed a check-in, the odds were he would be dead.
    Blake looked at his watch. It was only 3:20, but he was tired. He texted his team that he was signing out for the day, and picked up his files. Maybe tomorrow they would catch a break.

Copyright © 2019, 2020 by Ed Rogers