“Hey, Pete. Do you have a suspect?”
I watched transfixed as Stark negotiated the balancing act of his life. Either tell the truth or lie and pay for it later, but keep the public calm and don’t give the killer any information he can use. I’d seen the same look on the face of Chief Moose when the DC-area sniper was at large.
“Look, I can’t say more than this,” Stark said. “Two more people have died, but I can’t tell you anything of an evidentiary nature. We’re on it. And we’ll inform the public as soon as we have something substantive to report.”
I grabbed a chair, pulled it right up to the screen, and sat down hard. Even though I’d seen so many murdered people, this case got me to the core.
I didn’t think I could have a reaction like this. I was so outraged at the killer’s audacity I was shaking.
I joined the throng outside the police station by proxy. I found myself talking at a thirteen-inch Sony and Chief Stark’s shrunken image.
“Who is doing this, Chief?
“Who the hell is murdering all of these people?”
Womans Murder Club 4 - 4th of July
Part Four
Trials and Tribulation
Womans Murder Club 4 - 4th of July
Chapter 62
THEY WERE CARRYING THE bodies out of the house just as I arrived. I parked between two black-and-whites on the lawn and looked up at a stunning glass-and-redwood contemporary.
The gaping crowd parted as paramedics bumped down the steps with the stretchers, then slid the two body bags into the open maw at the back of the EMS van. Although I didn’t know Annemarie and Joseph Sarducci, I was swamped by unspeakable sadness.
I edged my way through the mob and up to the front door, where a uniformed officer was on security detail, at ease, with his hands behind his back.
I could tell he was a pro because he gave me both a warm smile and a cold eye. I took a chance and badged him.
“The chief’s inside, Lieutenant.”
I rang the bell.
The first bar of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons chimed.
Chief Stark opened the door, and when he saw that it was me, his jaw tightened.
“What are you fucking doing here?” he said, biting down on his words. I put my heart into my reply, because it was true.
“I want to help, damn it. May I come in?”
We stared at each other across the threshold until finally Chief Stark blinked.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a persistent pain in the ass?” he said, stepping aside so that I could enter.
“Yes. And thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. I called a friend of mine on the SFPD. Charlie Clapper says you’re a good cop. He’s right about half the time. Don’t make me sorry.”
“You honestly think you could feel sorrier than you do right now?”
I walked past Stark through the foyer and into the living room with its wall of windows facing the water below. The furnishings were of a spare Scandinavian variety: clean lines, flat woven carpets, abstract art, and although the Sarduccis were dead, I could feel their presence in the things they’d left behind.
Even as I mentally catalogued everything I could see, I noticed what was missing. There were no cones, tags, or markers on the ground floor. So where had the killer entered?
I turned to the chief. “Mind running the scene for me?”
“Bastard broke in through the skylight upstairs,” said Stark.
Womans Murder Club 4 - 4th of July
Chapter 63
THE MASTER BEDROOM FELT not just cold, but hollowed out, as if the room itself were suffering from the terrible loss.
Windows were open, and the vertical blinds clacked in the breeze like the rattling bones of the dead. The rumpled ice blue bed linens were spattered with arterial blood, and the sight of that made the room feel even colder.
A half dozen CSU techs bagged knickknacks from the nightstands, vacuumed the carpet, brushed surfaces for prints. Except for the blood, the room seemed oddly undisturbed.
I borrowed some surgical gloves, then leaned in close to look at a studio shot of the Sarduccis that was propped on the bureau. Annemarie was pretty and petite. Joe had a “gentle giant” look, his arms proudly surrounding his wife and son.
Why would someone want this couple dead?
“Annemarie’s throat was slashed,” Stark said, his voice breaking into my thoughts. “Just about cut her head off.”
He indicated the blood-drenched carpet beside the bed. “She fell there. Joe wasn’t in bed when it happened.”
Stark pointed out that Annemarie’s blood spatter radiated out straight across the bed and that the stain pattern was uninterrupted.
“No signs of a struggle,” said the chief. “Joey bought it in the bathroom.”
I followed Stark across the blond carpet to a white marble bath. Bright blood was concentrated on one side of the room, a lateral swath sprayed against the wall at about knee level. It dripped down the wall and joined the congealing lake of blood on the floor. I could see the outline of Joe’s body where he had fallen.
I crouched to get a better look.
“The intruder must’ve found the lady alone in bed,” said the chief, running me through his hypothetical. “Maybe he puts his hand over her mouth, asks, ‘Where’s your husband?’ Or maybe he hears the toilet flush. He offs Annemarie quick. Then he surprises Joe in the can. Joe hears the door open and says, ‘Honey —?’ He looks up now. ‘Wait. Who are you? What do you want?’”
“This blood’s from his neck wound,” I said, indicating the swath low on the wall. “The killer had to get Joe down on all fours so he could control him. Joe was the bigger man.”
“Yeah,” Stark said wearily. “Looks like he got him down, stood behind him, pulled Joe’s head back by the hair, and —” The chief drew his finger across his throat.
I asked questions and the chief answered: Nothing had been stolen. The boy hadn’t heard a sound. Friends and neighbors had come forward to say that the Sarduccis were happy, didn’t have an enemy in the world.
“Just like the Daltrys,” Chief Stark said. “Same story with the O’Malleys. No weapons, no clues, nothing funny with their finances, no apparent motive. The victims didn’t know each other.” The chief’s face kind of crumpled in on itself. He was vulnerable for a split second, and I could see the pain.
“All the victims had in common was that they were married,” he said. “So where does that go? Eighty percent of the people in Half Moon Bay are married.
“The whole goddamned town is terrified. Me included.”
The chief finished his speech. He looked away, stuffed the back of his shirt into his pants, patted down his hair. Collected himself so he didn’t look as desperate as he must have felt. Then he looked me in the eye.
“So what are your thoughts, Lieutenant? Wow me, why don’t you?”
Womans Murder Club 4 - 4th of July
Chapter 64
I HADN’T SEEN THE bodies, and the labs from this savage double homicide wouldn’t start trickling in for days. Still, I ignored the chief’s sarcasm and told him what my gut had already told me.
“There were two killers,” I said.
Stark’s head jerked back. He practically spat, “Bullshit.”
“Look,” I said. “There was no sign of a struggle, right? Why didn’t Joe try to overpower his assailant? He was big. He was a bear.
“Try it this way,” I went on. “Joe was taken out of the room at knifepoint—and he cooperated because he had to. Killer number two was still in the bedroom with Annemarie.”
The chief’s eyes darted around, looking at the scene from a new angle, imagining it the way I saw it.