Page 105 of Crow
CHAPTER18
“We finally got a fucking break,”said Detective Contreras as he hung up the phone’s receiver. “That was the crime lab. It turns out the perpetrator finally screwed up—he left some of his blood.”
“Best news I’ve heard today.” Detective Onofrio walked over to Contreras’s desk and held up his hand to high-five him.
Contreras smacked it, beaming.
“Is it the same perp who’s been offing the homeless guys?” asked Peterson from the robbery unit. He and his partner, Bill Powers, shared space with the two homicide detectives.
“Based on how the victims were killed, the M.O. is identical—excessive force, which tells us that the perp has a shitload of rage. He uses a hunting knife and a hammer to beat the life out of them. I’m confident that the monster who killed Abe Dwyer is the same one who butchered the other victims,” Contreras said.
“We’ve been waiting to find his blood mixed in with his targets, but he’s never left any behind.” Onofrio picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. “Considering the way this sicko overkills his victims, we never thought that would’ve been an issue.”
“Until now.” Contreras leaned back in his chair. A rush of adrenaline shot through him. For the first time since the killings had started, he felt hopeful that they’d be able to find and apprehend the suspect.
“Let’s hope he’s in the criminal system when we run his DNA,” Onofrio said.
“When are you guys heading back to Alina?” Pederson asked.
“Not until next week. You want to tag along?” Onofrio chuckled.
“No way. I’ve got a string of convenience store robberies that are keeping me up at night. I was just asking because my wife likes the local honey from one of their shops. I think the name is Bee Keeper or Bee Hive or something like that.”
“Honey Bee,” Contreras said. “It’s close to the sheriff’s station. Let me know what kind she wants, and I’ll get it for you. Is this a birthday or kiss-ass gift?”
Pederson grimaced. “Kiss-ass. Some of us in the unit went out for ribs and beer, and we just happened to end up at a strip club.”
“You didn’t tell her that, did you? ‘Just happened’ to end up there? Sounds like BS to me.” Onofrio glanced over at Contreras and winked. “What do you think?”
“Total bullshit,” the detective replied, nodding.
Pedersen gave an exaggerated sigh. “Now you know why I need this gift. Their honey is perfect. Marcia consumes it by the quarts. She’d never expect to get it without a trip to Alina.”
“You owe us.” Onofrio walked back to his desk, then turned to Contreras and asked, “Why do you think our perp changed locations with this kill? All of the other victims have been outdoors. That’s his thing—he preys on the homeless, but this one had an apartment. Is he changing his focus?”
Feliz Contreras leaned back in his desk chair and stared out the window for a long while before answering, “My gut’s telling me this murder was about the perp’s rageandtargeting our victim to prove a point. Maybe he’s sending us a message that he can go anywhere and do whatever he wants, and we still can’t find him. Perhaps he chose Abe Dwyer to tell someone other than us to watch out. It just feels more personal than the others.”
“Aren’t they all personal?” Pedersen asked.
“Yes and no. These cases are about hate and rage toward the homeless. Maybe our perp lived on the streets at one point, or a homeless man hurt or killed someone close to him. The fury aimed at these men has always been random—like being in the wrong place at the wrong time. With our latest victim, though, it feels as if the perpchosehim. That’s the difference, and if we can figure outwhyhe chose Abe Dwyer, we’ll find the killer.”
“The neighbors are terrified. I’d love to talk to the ‘shadow man’ they keep telling us about,” Onofrio said.
“He may just be a bully in the building who’s getting his kicks out of scaring the tenants. I’m not convinced that the person they claim to see stalking the halls at night is the one who killed Abe Dwyer.”
“I don’t know. Sheriff Wexler said that he’d make sure to have a couple of his deputies patrolling the area and the building. We’ll see if anything comes of it.”
Contreras shook his head. “I’m not holding out too much hope on that one. This guy is smart. What I’m afraid of is another killing. I hope the bastard’s in CODIS.”
“Me too. This murder was especially savage. Two hundred and twenty stab wounds? Damn, it’s more than overkill.”
“And the kills are becoming more frequent. The attacker is spiraling downward, and that’s what makes him even more dangerous and evil.”
“We should do a second canvas of the building. We didn’t get to speak to a lot of the tenants. Someonehadto have heard something. From the marks on the victim’s palms and on his arms, he put up a fight.”
“One that he lost.” Contreras blew out a frustrated breath. “It doesn’t matter how many murders I’ve investigated over the years; the senselessness of it all always punches me in the gut.Always.”
“Yeah, I feel that way too.” Onofrio glanced up at the wall clock. “I promised Aiden I’d be at his baseball game.” He pushed his chair out and stood up.
