Show of Evil

'No, cowboy, but you sure got it.'

Chief Hiram Young sat behind his grey metal desk and drummed his fingers, staring at the phone message lying in front of him. Rose, his impressionable secretary, always responded to long-distance phone calls, especially those from big-city police departments, as if each was an omen of pending national disaster. Young even found her careful, impeccable, Palmer-method handwriting annoying, but she was the mayor's sister, so he couldn't complain. Even worse, she underlined words she felt required emphasis.

You had an urgent phone call from the District Attorney in Chicago (!!) at 1:30 PM I tried to reach you in several places. You must call Mr Ben Meyer as soon as you get in. I took Charlotte to the dentist. Back at 3. Call ASAP. I promised!!!

The phone number was written double-size across the bottom of the memo pad.

Warily, he dialled the number and asked for Meyer.

'This is Ben Meyer,' the deep voice answered.

'Chief Hiram Young returning your call, sir,' Young replied.

'Yes, sir!' Meyer responded enthusiastically. 'Thanks for getting back to me so promptly.'

'My pleasure,' Young answered. He cradled the phone between his jaw and shoulder and leafed through the mail as they spoke.

'I hate to bother you,' Meyer said, 'but we're working a case up here you may be able to assist us with.'

'Glad to help,' Young said, opening the phone bill.

'It's in regard to the Balfour murder case.'

There was a long pause. A long pause.

Finally, 'Yes…?'

'We think it may relate to a case here.'

'Uh-huh.'

'Uh, would it be possible to get some additional information from your department, Chief? We have the IBI report, but it's pretty skimpy.'

'Our information is pretty skimpy.'

'Have you had any further developments? Suspects, new information…'

'Not a thing.'

'As I understand it, you suspect Satanists may have - '

'That was speculation,' Young said tersely.

'I see. Was there anything specific…'

'You seen the pictures we sent over to the IBI?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Self-explanatory, wouldn't you say?'

'So it was the nature of the crime that led you to that conclusion?'

'I said it was speculation. Some of the city fathers and local ministers came up with that idea.'

'You don't agree then?'

'Didn't say that. What's your case about?'

'Some unidentified bodies. There are some similarities. Did Mrs Balfour have any enemies? Any - '

'Nothing like that. I knew Linda since she married George up in Carbondale and came here. Three, four years ago. Nice lady. No problems. George is the salt of the earth. Bringing up that little boy all by himself. He's had enough trouble.'

'Do you have any background on Linda Balfour - you know, from before she moved to - '

'I didn't feel it was necessary to snoop into her business. Like I said, she was a nice lady. No problems.'

Meyer was floundering, trying to strike a nerve, something that would open the chief up. Meyer said, 'And there were no suspects to speak of?'

'There was a utility man near the house that morning, but we never could locate him.'

'A utility man? What company - '

'Lady across the street saw him walking down the road. Fact is, we never ascertained who he worked for.'

'And that was your only suspect?'

'Told you, Mr Meyer, she didn't have any enemies. Nothing was stolen. Some nut comin' through town, most likely. We worked on that case for about a month.'

'Fingerprints?'

'Nothin' didn't match up with the family and their friends.'

'We're interested in the condition of the body, Chief. Can you - '

'I'm not at liberty to talk about that sir. You might talk to Dr Fields at the clinic - if he'll talk to you. He's also the coroner.'

'Thanks, Chief. Do you have that number?'

Young gave him the number and hung up. He sat and stared at the phone for several moments, started to call Fields, and then changed his mind. Doc Fields was a grown man. He could tell this Meyer fellow whatever he wanted to tell him. Young turned his attention back to the mail.

Doc Fields was staring across a tongue depressor at the most inflamed and swollen throat he had seen in recent years. He threw the wooden stick in the wastebasket and looked sternly down at the six-year-old.

'You been smoking, Mose?' he asked.

The boy's eyes bulged and his mother gasped, and then Fields laughed.

'Just jokin', young fella. Got us some bad tonsils here. Lessee, you're Baptist, aren't you, Beth?'

The mother nodded.

'Those tonsils have to come out. Sooner the better.'

The boy's eyes teared up and his lips began to tremble.

'Oh, nothin' to it, son. Besides, for a couple of days you can have all the ice cream you want to eat. How 'bout that?'

The promise of mountains of ice cream seemed to allay young Moses's fears.

'Check with Sally and see when's the best time for both of us,' Fields said. But before the woman and her son could get up to leave, Fields's secretary peeked in the door.

'You got a long-distance call, Doctor,' she said. 'It's Chicago.'

'You don't say,' said Fields. 'Probably the university school of medicine seeking my consultation.' He snatched up the phone.

'This is Dr Bert Fields. What can I do for you?' he said gruffly.

'Doctor, this is Ben Meyer. I'm a prosecutor with the DA's office. You may be able to help me.'

'You ailing?' Fields said sardonically.

Meyer laughed. 'No, sir. We have a case in progress that may relate to a homicide you had down there.'

'The Balfour murder?'

'How'd you guess?'

'Only homicide we've had hereabouts in a dozen years. In fact, the worst I ever saw and I been the town doctor since '61.'

'I understand you're the coroner.'

'Coroner, family doctor, surgeon, you name it.'

'And you performed an autopsy?'

'Of course.'

'Do you remember any of the particulars?'

'Sir, I remember every inch of that child's corpse. Not likely to forget it.'

'Would it be possible to get a copy of your report?'

Fields hesitated.

'I can assure you, we'll treat it confidentially,' Meyer hurriedly added. 'We may have a similar case up here. If this is a serial killer, it would help us greatly to stop the perp before he goes any further.'

'Perp?'

'Perpetrator.'

'Ah. Perp.' He laughed. 'I'll have to use that. It'll throw Hiram for a loop.'

'Yes, sir. I was wondering, do you have a fax machine?'

Fields got another hearty laugh out of that. 'Just got me an answer machine last year,' he said. 'Can't think of any reason why I'd need a fax machine.'

Meyer sounded depressed by the news. 'It sure would help me right now,' he said.

'Why don't I just get the report out and read it to you? Isn't that long.'

'That would be great!' Meyer answered. He reached over to the telerecorder attached to his phone and pressed the record button. 'Mind if I tape it?'

'Just like that?'

'Yes, sir, just like that. We're big-timers up here,' and they both laughed.

Fields left the phone for a minute and Meyer could hear a metal file drawer open and shut.

'This is exactly what I reported, Mr Meyer. Ready?'

'Yes.'

'The victim, Linda Balfour, is a white female, age 26. The body is 53.5 inches in length and weighs 134 pounds and has blue eyes and light brown hair. She was dead on my arrival at her home on Poplar Street, this city. The victim was stabbed, cut, and incised 56 times. There was evidence of cadaver spasm, trauma, and aero-embolism. There was significant exsanguination from stab wounds. The throat wound, which nearly decapitated Balfour, caused aero-embolism, which usually results in instantaneous death. Wounds in her hands and arms indicate a struggle before she was killed. There was also evidence of mutilation. Both of the victim's nipples and the clitoris were amputated and placed in the victim's mouth. It appears that the wounds were accomplished by a person or persons with some surgical knowledge. Also the inscription C13.489 was printed with the victim's blood on the rear of the skull, 4.6 centimetres above the base of the skull and under the hairline. The weapon was determined to be a common carving knife with an eight-inch blade found on the premises and belonging to the victim. A routine autopsy revealed no alcohol, controlled substances, or poisons in the bloodstream. The victim was nine weeks pregnant. Signed, Edward Fields, M.D. Date, 6/10/93.'