Burden slammed his car door and asked, “What are you people doing here?”
Scheer stepped in front of the TV crews. “I was at the Presidio on another story when my editor texted me. Apparently, your killer called it in to the papers and TV station himself. He obviously wanted us all here.”
Vail frowned. “Obviously.” She grabbed the thin plastic tape and pulled it above her head, then she, Burden, and Dixon slipped beneath it.
“Mind if I tag along?” Scheer asked.
Vail faced him with narrowed eyes. “What do you think?”
“Hey, this one you can’t blame on me,” he said.
Forty feet away, on a semicircular slate tile plaza, a tall black man in a well-tailored dark suit and bright red tie chatted with a woman wearing an FBI jacket, “Evidence Response Team” emblazoned across her back.
A narrowed walkway split the terrace down the center, with a wood bench on either side of its entrance facing outward, providing a spectacular view of the Bay. The glowing sunburst dome of the Palace of Fine Arts stood out in stark contrast to the surrounding bed of richly hued evergreen and cypress trees that lined the hilltop. A light haze hung over the mountains in the distance across the Bay, but the water was a deep baby blue.
The Evidence Response Technician pointed her Canon at the left bench, where an elderly man sat, seemingly staring ahead at the scenic view.
Vail, Dixon, and Burden stepped alongside the criminalist and made introductions to the suited man, United States Park Police Major Crimes Detective Peter Carondolet. They explained that this victim was likely part of a case they had been working in the city.
“Looks like we got a new member of our task force,” Burden said.
Carondolet held up both hands. “No. Wait. Hang on a minute-I’m buried in a huge case. I’m here as a favor to a buddy. I’ll- Why don’t we play it by ear. Keep me posted if you come across useful info, and I’ll do the same with you people.”
Vail, Burden, and Dixon shared an uneasy look.
“Detective,” Vail said, “the offender, the guy who killed the victim in front of us, has murdered several men and women, and just might be responsible for a number of others going all the way back to ’82. It’s a major case. You work in the Park Police’s Major Crimes division, no?”
Carondolet shifted his feet. “I’m not saying I won’t help. But I-I’ll do what I can. Let’s leave it at that for now. Why don’t we just focus on what we’ve got here and now? We can always reassess. I mean, we’re not even sure it’s the same killer.”
Vail appraised their latest victim. A number 25 was scrawled on his forehead. She swung her head back to Carondolet. “Yes, Detective. I’m sure. Same killer.”
Carondolet regarded her with a twisted frown. “You look at the vic for five seconds and decide it’s the same guy?” He snorted. “I don’t think we pay you profilers enough.”
“I don’t like to waste time dicking around,” Vail said. “And I’m very, very good.”
“She is,” Dixon said.
Carondolet’s gaze shifted between Burden, Dixon, and Vail. He chuckled mockingly and said, “If you say so.”
Burden turned back to the victim. “Interesting.” He nodded at the body, which was decked out in a black shirt and Roman collar. “A man of the cloth.”
Vail frowned. “What was your first clue?” She shook her head. “And they call you a detective?”
“Actually, they call me an inspector.”
“Whatever.”
Burden turned to Dixon. “What’s gotten into her?”
“Something’s bugging her.”
“Hello?” Vail said, waving a hand. “I’m right here. You got a question, ask me.”
“Fine,” Burden said. “What’s bugging you?”
Vail banded her arms across her chest. “Nothing.”
Burden threw both hands in the air. Can’t win.
“Are you people always this dysfunctional?” Carondolet asked.
“You want to know what’s bugging me?” Vail gestured at the body. “He’s sitting. All the other males were tied to a column or a pole or a post of some sort. Why is this guy on a bench?”
Dixon rotated her head, taking in their surroundings. “No poles. Maybe he had no choice.”
“Maybe,” Vail said. But I don’t think so. Something’s different about this victim.
“Do we have an ID?” Burden asked the criminalist. “You are?”
“Sherri Price. And no, no ID yet.”
The slam of a car door caused all of them to look up. Clay Allman had arrived.
Price said, “Go on. I’ve processed the body but I haven’t checked his pockets.”
Burden slipped a gloved hand inside the man’s coat and removed a worn wallet. “Ralph Finelli. Father Ralph Finelli.”
Dixon knelt in front of the bench, to the left of the man’s right knee. “Rosary beads still in his hand.”
“Any thoughts on what that means?” Burden asked.
“Where do you start?” Vail said. “It could be another taunt. It could be referring to the Mysteries of the Rosary. The mysteries recount the life of Jesus-but the UNSUB may be using it to thumb his nose at us… The mysteries he’s leaving behind for us that we’ve been unable to solve.”
“Where’s Robert when we need him?” Dixon said.
“You texted him, told him to meet us here,” Vail said. “Right?”
“I did.” Burden consulted his phone. “He didn’t reply.” He began tapping out a new message on the keypad.
“Who’s Robert?” Carondolet asked.
“Another member of our team,” Burden said.
“I think there are twenty mysteries.” Vail looked at Burden and Dixon for confirmation. They shrugged.
Dixon pulled out her iPhone and began a search. “I hope those twenty mysteries don’t correspond to the number of vics he’s planning to kill.”
“Amen to that,” Burden quipped.
Vail scrunched her face. “That was awful.”
“You’re right,” Dixon said, reading off the screen. “Twenty mysteries. Joyful, Luminous, Sorrowful, Glories-”
“Penance,” Vail said. “Maybe the father’s holding the rosary to signify that he’s done penance after confession. His penance being his murder.”
“Speaking of awful,” Burden said. “Killing a priest, a man of God…”
Dixon leaned in closer for a look at the rosary. “I don’t think this offender’s concerned about heaven and hell.”
“I’m sure there are other explanations and religious undertones,” Vail said. “Friedberg can probably give us a whole freaking recitation on the history of the rosary.”
Burden squinted. “Don’t count on it. He’s Jewish.”
“Did he say when he’s gonna be here?”