"Also, it would have taken two people to tie her to that tree. She was fighting as they did it, the arm wounds show that. It's far too much hard work to do it alone, you might as well knock her out and do it then, but there's no head wound that I saw. You’re looking for at least two men, not including Neil, who are working together. Amber is the only victim not eviscerated, and she didn’t have any organs removed. This all goes back to Vicki.”
“That’s nothing we couldn’t have gotten for ourselves,” Greaves said. “We’re not fuck-ups.”
“Well that’s great,” I snapped. “Because you have five dead women and a missing agent. Most people in your position would want every bit of help they could get, and right now you’re more interested in point scoring. I’d say fuck-up sums you up quite nicely, wouldn’t you?”
Chapter 13
While agent Greaves shouted at Olivia about wanting to punch me, I'd taken the few moments alone to read more of the files that Olivia had presented me with back at my house. Each murder scene had the same details. The victims had driven themselves to the crime in their car, and any footprints around the scene showed one person running and another walking slowly.
"Don't care,” I said as Olivia came toward me. “Greaves is a fucking idiot."
“He’s also a good cop and you pissed him off.”
We had more important things to discuss. "We're dealing with some highly dangerous people here. Stroking egos can wait."
Olivia sat on the bonnet of a Ford Focus RS, a bright orange car owned by one of the agents, and motioned for me to continue.
"People don't like you sitting on their cars like that," I said.
"It's Agent Greaves' car; he deserves it for being a dick."
I sat next to her.
"And you're right," Olivia said. "We need to stop these people before they kill again."
"We know that Neil is involved. He took the photos of those women, but like I said, he's not killing them. They're too different from his frenzy of violence. These are well planned and executed."
"We got an I. D on this latest victim," Olivia said.
"That was fast."
She passed me a tatty passport. "We found it in her glove box."
The name on the drivers' license said Hilary Bingham. Her picture was one of smiles and beauty, and it was a face I recognised. "Fuck," I said softly and passed the license back. "She's in the photos on Neil's wall. He's taking pictures of these women for someone else to kill."
"It certainly appears that way, yes. But why go to the trouble of freeing Neil, giving him the money to buy a penthouse and letting him live like a king, just so he can take a few photos for serial killers? And another thing. Why call the human authorities for the first few murders, before changing over to calling Agent Greaves? They must have been aware of our involvement, so why not start with the LOA?"
"They might have wanted more time before they had to deal with Avalon searching for them. The longer they had to content with only the human police, the better for them."
A dark blue Honda pulled up beside us, and Doctor Grayson stepped out. He appeared tired and haggard, his weariness etched into every line of his face.
"Good-evening," he said with as much enthusiasm as one could muster when having to examine murdered women.
"You two need to talk," Olivia said, pushing herself away from the car. "Tell him what's missing from the report, Doctor."
"Now, what could she be talking about, Doc?" I asked. Olivia had joined Tommy in whatever discussion was taking place out of earshot. I didn't have the time or effort to use magic so I could listen in. If it was anything important, Tommy would tell me later.
"Come with me," he said, putting on a pair of medical gloves. "You're going to want to see this."
There were a huge number of things I'd rather be doing then trudging back across an increasingly muddy pathway to watch a doctor examine a corpse, but I did it without complaining. No one wanted to be here, no one ever wanted to be at a murder scene.
Thankfully, since Tommy and I had examined Hilary, her body had been untied from the tree and placed inside a body bag and left on a gurney. Grayson unzipped the bag and began his examination in methodical, but solemn, earnest.
Her arms were covered in deep scratches and Grayson spotted me looking at one of them. "She was standing when she died," he said. "Those scratches are from the tree bark cutting into her as she slid to the ground with her arms still tied around the trunk."
"I noticed. I assume the cut across her abdomen was the killing strike."
Grayson shook his head. "With any other case, yes. It was certainly something that would have killed her. But in this instance, she was already dead when it happened."
"What makes you say that?"
"All four previous victims were the same, one slice across the stomach, the liver and kidneys removed. But each of them had another wound, something I kept out of the reports at Director Green's request."
He gestured for me to examine five small puncture marks, just below Hilary's breast. "Needles?" I suggested.
Grayson removed a marker pen from his lab pocket, and drew a ring around each mark, joining them together with an image of a hand.
"Someone's hand did this?" I asked.
"I've not looked at Amber yet, but the other victims had five marks like these. Each one stretched up slightly toward the heart, which also showed five puncture marks. The inside of the heart was black, decaying, as if infested with something. It didn’t touch any of the other organs, except for the brain.”
"So, why take the liver and kidneys?”
"Sustenance, I imagine. They're both good for you, full of vitamins and the like. Whoever did this probably needed the energy."
"So, we're looking for someone who can kill in that way, and who then eats parts of the victim to regain energy?"
"You understand why Director Green wanted this kept silent. Better people think we have a crazy cannibal on our hands, than someone who can kill in such a way."
I studied the puncture marks as my brain tried to figure out what could possibly have caused them. And why. It was a hard way to commit murder. It certainly wasn't a quick or quiet way to end someone's life.
"Anything else, Doc?" I asked.
"It's hard to give an exact time of death, but I would say about four to five hours ago."
I thanked him and, with a head full of information, went off to find Tommy and Sara. Instead I found one of the agents who had been the contact for the killer. "Agent Reid," I said and offered my hand, which he took.
"Are you taking over the investigation?" He asked.
"Just a fresh set of eyes; I'm not trying to step on anyone's toes."
He raised an eyebrow. "You pissed off some people earlier. That would be akin to jumping up and down on people's toes."
"I get that a lot," I assured him. "Do you mind if I ask you a few things?"
"Go nuts."
"The killer, Olivia says he calls you."
"He calls Greaves," he corrected. "Usually a few hours after he's killed them. Greaves got the call just over an hour ago. We came here first, and then contacted Director Green."
"Greaves is a werewolf, yes?"
"Yes, I am," a rough voice snapped from behind me. "Is there a problem with that?"
I turned toward the surly man with a smile on my face. "No problems. I just wanted to know if you caught any scent."
"And I should tell you why?" He jabbed a finger at me. I glanced down at the digit and wondered if I should break it.
"Agent," Olivia said ending my pondering. "Tell us what you found."
Greaves stared a hole through me but did as he was asked. "I searched the woods in a few hundred meters circumference, and for the most part it's the same as always, a mixture of dozens of scents. It's impossible to distinguish between them."