„Hmm?“ Jack’s face heated. „Sorry. What did you say?“ With humor and pity, Abe noted how Jack’s gaze had followed Julia’s every movement as she left the room. Jack was smitten, and Julia either didn’t know or didn’t care. Poor guy.
Spinnelli blinked at him. „The grave markers? What did you find?“
Jack cleared his throat. „The markers are made from marble. The inscriptions are sandblasted versus hand-carved, which makes sense. He would have needed a week to hand-carve just one.“
„Sandblasting?“ Kristen asked. „How does it work?“ Jack settled back in his chair. „Generally the craftsman makes a template from rubber or a vellum film, like a photographic negative – the parts he wants inscribed are cut out. He puts the template on top of whatever he’s blasting, then puts it through a sandblaster. Fine sand is blasted at the rock, eating away everything but the rubber. When he’s done, he peels off the template and the inscription is complete. But it’s harder to get all the template material off the flat surfaces when the letters are blasted deep into the rock, like these markers.“
Mia looked impressed. „You’ve done this?“ Jack’s smile was wry. „I gave up handcrafts after I almost cut off my thumb in high school shop class. No, I did an Internet search on sandblasting. There are a few major memorial manufacturers in the area, but I don’t think this guy went outside. I’d bet he did these himself. From what I read, with the right equipment it wouldn’t be that hard to do.“
„Where would he get the equipment?“ Spinnelli asked.
„Again, there are only a few major manufacturers of equipment powerful enough to do such a big job. There were traces of the template material on King’s marker, and the lab says it’s not rubber. It’s vellum. That narrows it down a bit.“
„I’ll follow up on this one,“ Mia said. „Jack, I’ll get the names of those companies from you tomorrow, then I’ll get a list of Chicago customers.“
„He could have bought the equipment some time ago,“ Abe said.
Mia nodded contemplatively. „Perhaps. But these guys have to buy materials somewhere. I’ll ask about that, too. I mean, I don’t think you’re going to get tombstone-quality marble at the local Wal-Mart.“
Spinnelli noted it on the whiteboard. „What else?“
„We’re still checking the clothing we found in the crates. I expect some results in the morning. We’ll also run the notes the Ramey victims got through the lab tomorrow,“ Jack said. „Though if we find anything, I’ll be shocked.“
Kristen sighed. „We still have to visit King’s victims and the parents of the two kids killed by the Blades.“
Abe could see it was something she was dreading. „I can go by myself, Kristen.“
She shook her head, just as he’d known she would. „No, I need to do this. Can you wait until after ten in the morning? I have motion hour at nine.“ Her cell phone jangled, a digitized Pachelbel’s Canon. „Mayhew… Hi, John, yeah we’re almost finished.“ She paled and jumped to her feet, moving to the television in the corner. „Oh, hell. What channel?“
The set came to life, revealing Zoe Richardson reporting from a familiar street.
„Fuck,“ Mia snarled.
„Bottom-feeding bitch,“ Jack muttered.
Abe studied Kristen, standing in front of the flickering screen, the remote visibly shaking in her hand. But this time it wasn’t fear on her face. It was rage. He understood how she felt. Richardson must have been following her all afternoon, lurking in the shadows until they were gone and she could get her pound of flesh.
„And so a chilling chapter in the lives of three women comes to a close,“ Richardson said, her hair barely moving in the brisk evening breeze. The camera zoomed to frame Sylvia Whitman’s home. „First they were victims of rape, then denied justice by what many termed incompetence within the State’s Attorney’s Office, but today these women are finally vindicated. Today each of these three innocent women received visits from Assistant State’s Attorney Kristen Mayhew accompanied by two CPD detectives to inform them that Anthony Ramey, the man who allegedly terrorized and victimized them has paid the ultimate price.“
The anchor’s voice cut in, sober and concerned. „What do the police and the State’s Attorney’s Office have to say about this, Zoe?“
„We were unable to reach the police for comment this evening. We can only assume they are working to uncover clues to the identity of Ramey’s killer.“
„Were the three women able to provide any additional information, Zoe? Anything that might be helpful to the police?“ the anchor asked.
„Son of a bitch,“ Jack muttered. „Like we need her kind of help.“
„Not the letters,“ Mia urged under her breath. „Don’t mention the damn letters.“
Richardson widened her eyes, as if she’d only just remembered something important and Mia smacked her palm against the tabletop. „Dammit.“
Kristen flung her hand up, signaling for quiet and Mia gritted her teeth.
„Yes, Andrea. Each of the three women received an anonymous letter today, saying Ramey was dead and that justice had finally been done.“ Zoe’s eyes gleamed. „He signed each letter ‘Your Humble Servant.’ This is Zoe Richardson, reporting.“
The camera flashed back to the serious face of Andrea me Anchor. „Thank you, Zoe. We’ll be anxiously waiting for more details on this exclusive breaking story.“ Her face brightened, almost comically. „Now back to our regularly scheduled program.“
Viciously, Kristen turned off the television and for a long moment no one spoke.
„How did she know?“ Spinnelli finally asked, his own temper under an obviously tight leash. „How the hell did she know?“
Kristen stood staring at the dark screen, her rigid back to the rest of them. „She was following us.“ Her swallow was audible. „Me.“ She placed the remote on top of the television with precise care. „I don’t believe this.“
„My mom can smack her for you,“ Abe said lightly. „I have it on good authority that she packs a wallop when she’s mad.“ He let out a silent breath when Kristen’s back slumped and she turned to him with a tight little smile.
„And just how many times did you make your mom mad, Reagan?“ she asked.
Abe forced a grin. „More times than I can count.“
The tight smile relaxed to a wry grimace. „Now, that I can believe.“
Spinnelli dragged his palms down his face. „Well, the cat’s out of the bag, people. I’ll schedule a press conference tomorrow. Abe, you make sure we get whereabouts for all the vies for the times of the murders, as close as you can and find out if any of them are sharpshooters.“
„Besides Stan Dorsey?“ Abe asked dryly, and Spinnelli lifted his eyes heavenward.
„God help us. I want to know every step Dorsey took on the days in question. I’ll start checking all the cops and lawyers on the list for anyone with enough skill to make those shots. Mia, see what you can find on the sandblasting angle. Hopefully Julia will come up with something more when she’s done with the autopsies.“
„What about his next victim?“ Kristen asked. „Are we going to wait for another crate to appear on my doorstep?“
Spinnelli shook his head. „I’m going to get surveillance cameras installed around your place tomorrow. If he visits you again, we’ll know.“
She shook her head, hard and fast. „No, that’s not what I meant. We know he has a special rage for sex offenders. I can get you a list of all the sex perps I’ve prosecuted. Maybe we can head him off at the pass.“
Spinnelli nodded. „It’s a good start. And Kristen?“
Warily, she eyed him. „What?“
„Do you have a dog?“ She shook her head. „No.“
„Then I’d advise you to get one.“
„And make it big,“ Mia added. „No cute puppies.“
„And make it a barker.“ Jack bared his teeth. „With sharp teeth.“
Kristen turned to Abe, one russet brow lifted. „Any more recommendations?“