Keith said, “A shift in MO?”
“Not really. Blood trail on the stairs — wrought iron and wood, alongside the corner building — indicate the incident began at the landing. The killer was waiting outside the victim’s apartment, tucked in the recession of the doorway. The first blow caught her in the left arm.”
Krista said, “She saw him and reacted.”
The CSI nodded. “And fled, running down the steps. The killer pursued and caught up with her and the attack came from behind. Knife plunged deep, half a dozen times. A savage assault, like the Lund woman.”
“Right there on Main Street,” Keith said. “With a high risk of potential witnesses.”
Eli tapped his nose — the “on the nose” gesture. “That’s the other obvious aspect here.”
Krista frowned. “What is?”
Keith sighed and said, “The killer is devolving. Accelerating. Six months between the first and second kill. Three days between the second and third kill. Precision planning for the first two kills, more on the fly for this one.”
The CSI was nodding. “There’s a real danger to the community. You need to call in the state police investigators. And Major Case Assistance. ASAP.”
Krista said nothing.
Keith said, “We’ll give that serious consideration, Eli. Thanks. You heading back to Rockford now?”
Eli frowned a little. “You changing the subject on me, Keith?”
“Maybe. Where we go from here is the chief’s call, and I’ll consult, of course, which is my job. You’ve done yours and we appreciate it.”
Keith stood, smiled, extended his hand and Eli, his expression wary, shook Keith’s hand, then stood himself.
“Oh-kay,” Eli said. “And, yes. I’ll be in Rockford. I hope you don’t need me... I’ll let you know our results.”
Eli closed the door behind him.
Keith said to Krista, “You should eat. I’ll take you to lunch.”
She was studying him. “You want to talk, don’t you?”
“I want to talk.”
But they didn’t talk on the way to Otto’s Place, which would still be open for lunch for another twenty minutes. He was thinking and so was she. In the few days since Astrid’s murder, the number of things they had to consider had accumulated into a dizzying spire of suspects, suspect alibis, and an increasingly out of control madman.
Otto’s wasn’t busy. They hung their coats up, found a corner table, then ordered bowls of turkey-and-black-bean chili and glasses of iced tea. Now they talked.
Keith asked, “What does Jasmine’s murder mean to this investigation?”
Krista thought for a moment, then said, “She’s not from the Class of ’09.”
He shrugged. “She was at the reunion.”
“But we think the motive of the killings lies in the past. And the first murder was six months ago. Was Jasmine a cold-blooded, coldhearted attempt to throw us off the track? To muddy the waters with...”
“Blood,” he finished. “Maybe. And to provide us with a good suspect in Jerry Ward. My suspicion? This is a premeditated killer. He or she will have established that Jerry would be home without an alibi. That the parents would be away, stranding Jerry without a car. The lack of a car, however, was something we might well dismiss — a killer can always find a way to get to a killing.”
“But Jerry’s mom and dad double-crossed our killer,” she said. “They came home early. They in fact spent the evening with their son, and are not likely types to cover for him in a situation like this.”
Keith frowned, shook his head. “Was trying to frame Jerry enough of a motivating reason? Certainly confusing the issue alone, to maybe throw us off some, wouldn’t inspire it.”
She leaned toward him. “What made the killer, so careful, so controlled in the planning of these acts, suddenly take a risk like striking in public? On Main Street of all places?”
“That’s the only silver lining in this very dark cloud,” he said, with a tight smile. “It means we’re getting close. It means the investigation has lit a fire under our quarry.”
Krista’s eyebrows went up. “So who was Jasmine in all of this? What marked her a victim?”
“When we answer that,” he said, “we’ll know who we’re looking for.”
Their tea came.
Krista smirked humorlessly and said, “Don’t you think we can rule Chicago out? And even if we’re wrong to do so, we’re covered — your friend Barney is networking with Booker. With luck those two creeps who jumped you will sell out who hired them.”
“Don’t count on that,” he said. “Even today, the Outfit is scarier than anybody in law enforcement.”
He sipped the tea. His phone vibrated in his pocket.
“Speaking of Chicago,” he said, looking at the caller ID.
REBECCA CARLSON.
He excused himself and went outside.
“Hi,” he said. His breath was visible in the cold; he didn’t care.
“Hi yourself. Are you okay? Are you in the hospital? Did you break anything important?”
“Yes. No. And nothing important except your heart.”
She laughed at him. “Heal up and come see me.”
“How did you know about this?”
“You’re in the news and I am the news. Listen, my news is that I’ve connected with a researcher of Astrid’s.”
“On the sexual predator story?”
“No, the Daniel Rule Meets the Mob exposé. My pretty nemesis had some good stuff. I’m picking up where she left off, and my ex has agreed to let me, and to air it when I’m done. Of course, I’ll need to talk to you, since the two Salerno guys sitting in the Galena jail are your handiwork.”
“Maybe, but my bruises and broken rib is theirs. Don’t get yourself killed like Astrid.”
“You don’t really think the Chicago end of this is what caused that, do you?”
“No, I don’t. Neither does my daughter, and she’s smarter than both of us. But people have been known to die in Chicago under sketchy circumstances.”
“Really? I try not to cover unhappy news like that. Ciao.”
“Did you really just say ‘ciao’?”
She laughed. “I did. Aren’t I just the worst?”
Rebecca clicked off. He smiled at the phone and clicked off, too.
When he got back to their corner, the chili had come. He broke some crackers up and dropped them in. Had several spoonfuls of the stuff. Great. The simple act of eating something that tasted good seemed like such a privilege, suddenly.
Krista, between spoonfuls, asked, “So I need to call the big boys in, huh? Like Eli says?”
“No, and not the big girls either. Not today. This is a key time for you, honey. This is the first big thing that’s come along since you made chief.”
Obviously surprised and pleased by this, she said, “Right, and I don’t want to screw it up. Many more dead bodies on Main Street and they’ll take me down on littering.”
He dropped his spoon and took her hand. “You need to step up. We’re close. Very close. If we haven’t wrapped this up by tomorrow this time, yes. By all means. Call Major Case Assistance. Call whatever cavalry you want. But right now, we have another shot at this.”
“We do?”
He nodded. “Have your people assemble all the suspects. Do it at the Lake View Lodge, in the banquet hall again, if it’s not in use — Landry will cooperate. And I want his wife there — she’s been slippery. We need Frank and Brittany Wunder. Your friends Josh and Jessy. The Braggs. Everybody else has alibis that seem to hold. But if we don’t shake the killer out of this bunch, we can try again with the others — Jerry, Chris and Tyler, Ken Stock and his wife, Alex Cannon and the entire Chicago Outfit. Can you make that happen, honey? Can the chief of police gather the suspects?”