Free to Kill Page 4

  The two went into the house through the back door to talk to Chief Davidson and let him know they would be in touch after they had sifted through the existing case file and gotten the results of the autopsy and the findings from the scene. Rick Henderson was sitting with the chief at the eat-in kitchen table staring into a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. He had managed to switch out his bathrobe for a t-shirt, but still had on the pajama pants and house slippers he was wearing earlier.

  Finishing his discussion with the chief, Michael sat down beside Rick. “I’m very sorry for your loss. Are you up to answering a few questions for us?” His tone was gentle, but it was clear that it wasn’t really a question. Rick just nodded his head without looking up; his slumped shoulders projecting his exhaustion and pain. He was a man destroyed by the events of the past week.

  “Can you walk us through the last day that your wife was here?”

  Sighing, it seemed to take all the remaining energy for Rick to begin talking. “It was Wednesday. Wednesday is always her personal day. See, with her staying at home with the kids all the time, she needs a few hours to recharge. On Wednesday, she leaves here when I get home about five, goes to church, gives her confession, works with the ladies on whatever project is coming up. She’s usually home around ten. Last Wednesday, they would’ve been working on the upcoming beginning-of-summer yard sale. All the families in the parish went through their closets to see what they could donate. The proceeds go toward helping kids that can’t afford to go to summer church camp. Elaine is a natural leader, so she’s generally one of the people in charge. She is always one of the last to leave, but the parking lot behind the church is well lit so we don’t worry about it too much. Besides, they always left in groups. That night, Elaine walked out with her sister Evelyn. They’re twins. Oh Lord, this is gonna destroy Evelyn. Has anyone told her?” Rick lifted his tear-stained face to Chief Davidson, looking for an answer to his question.

  Chief Davidson nodded. “We sent Bobby over as soon as we knew it was her. Evelyn is keeping the kids away from the television for a few days. She said she would wait to tell them until you were there.”

  At this news, Rick broke down sobbing again. “How am I supposed to tell my kids that their mom died? I couldn’t even tell them she was missing. I just told them she went on a trip for a little while and sent them to stay with Evelyn. Evie said she needed them close, that it made Elaine seem not so far away. How am I supposed to do this?”

  The three of them sat there in silence while Rick calmed down and collected himself. Finally, he was able to continue. “Evelyn said Elaine couldn’t find her keys in her purse. She was just gonna run back into the church and see if she left them inside. While she waited, Father Joe came out and talked to her for a few minutes. It was taking so long that Evelyn and Father Joe went back in to see what was going on. The table with the kids’ toys was turned over, but Elaine wasn’t anywhere to be found. Father Joe called the police.”

  Chief Davidson picked up the story from there. “We talked to all the women who were there that night. Father Joe was questioned, but he didn’t see her after he took her confession earlier in the evening. It’s like she just vanished into thin air. We searched that church high and low. She just wasn’t there.”

  Michael asked a few more questions as Katie stayed in the background watching body language and listening to the conversation. Figuring they had learned all they could for the time being, Katie and Michael got up and headed for the FBI lab in Nashville to attend the autopsy.

  Once in the car, Michael asked, “So what do you think?”

  “I think he loved his wife very much.” Katie said. “I don’t think he had anything to do with what happened. And I’m very interested to see this church and to see how one person can just vanish from inside.” Katie pulled out the file and began reading the statements.

  “Here’s something interesting. Elaine’s purse was found on a table just inside the door, but her keys were never found. I wonder what happened to her car?” Katie mused. “The statements from the other women are pretty brief, but then I would expect them to be since they left before Elaine. No one saw anything. Elaine acted normal all evening. No evidence she had just run off. Well, I guess now we know that wasn’t the case. Evelyn’s is the longest statement in the group, but still doesn’t offer insight. I am interested in talking to the priest. He was alone in the church for a few minutes with Elaine. Could he have stashed her somewhere?”

  “I don’t see how he could,” Michael said. “If the entire church was searched within minutes, where could he have put her in the meantime?”

  “Good question. I would like to clarify with Evelyn whether or not the good Father was out of her sight between the time they reentered the building and the time the police showed up to search it.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Katie looked up as Michael turned into the parking lot of the forensic facility in Nashville. They walked in and were issued visitors passes, which allowed them access to the morgue. The morgue was located on the second level of the facility, the cheery light coming through the windows giving a false sense of peace to a place where death pervaded. The agents entered separate dressing rooms and changed into protective sterile clothing before emerging through the back entrance, which led to the windowless autopsy room.

  Mrs. Henderson had already been placed on the stainless steel table. Dr. Bennett and her assistant, Fred, were standing on the other side of the table wearing puzzled expressions under their protective face shields.

  “What did you find?” Michael asked from Katie’s left. She hadn’t heard him emerge from his dressing room. Katie quickly turned back to the body on the table, refusing to acknowledge to herself that Michael looked even better in the blue scrubs he had changed into.

  “Well, nothing yet,” Dr. Bennett said. “We can’t really figure out how to get her out of this contraption. We need to unfold her and get x-rays before we proceed, but in this position, x-rays are nearly impossible.”

  Katie walked over to the table. “May I?” she asked, gesturing to the sterile gloves behind Fred. He turned and grabbed a pair, handing them across the table to Katie. Pulling them on, Katie reached up and began twisting what looked to be a flower protruding from the top of the band. As she turned it, the others saw that it was a screw and they watched as the band loosened. Once the screw had come out and allowed the band to separate, Dr. Bennett reached out to pull it apart.

  “You might want to wait a second,” Katie said. “I need to free her hands and feet first.” Ignoring the astounded looks being directed at her, Katie located the mechanisms that would allow Elaine’s hands to be freed. From there, Katie asked for assistance to unfold the top half of the body back and to bring the knees up so that she could access Elaine’s ankles. Finally, forty-five minutes after starting, Elaine lay prone on the table. They all stood looking down at her body and seeing the evidence of additional torture that had been invisible from the crunched position in which she had been found.

  Elaine’s abdomen and thighs were criss-crossed with welts, some of which had broken the skin. There was bruising around all of them, some yellowed with time and others recently purple and black. There was no blood on the body, aside from that on her face, which had resulted from being squeezed by the device. The blood in her body had pooled in her shins and abdomen as it had settled after her heart stopped pumping.

  Fred pulled out the camera and began documenting the findings. Dr. Bennett began her examination at Elaine’s feet and worked her way up, taking the necessary samples as she went. She measured the length and depth of the cuts to her extremities and to her abdomen. Looking under her nails, she noted, “There are no defensive wounds and nothing noticeable under the nails. I’ll take scrapings just in case, but I don’t expect to find anything. There are ligature marks on the wrists that match those on the ankles.”

  Moving up to her head, Dr. Bennett noted dry, cracked lips. She opened Elaine’s mouth and gas
ped. Moving closer, Katie and Michael looked to see what had caused such a reaction. All of Elaine’s teeth were cracked and chipped. Her tongue was swollen and her front two teeth, both upper and lower were broken off. “Looks as though she bit down repeatedly on something hard,” Dr. Bennett said.

  “Judging from the device we found her in, I would imagine it was probably something similar to The Scold’s Bridle.” Seeing the blank looks the other three were aiming at her, Katie explained, “It was a device used around the same time as The Scavenger’s Daughter. It was used as punishment for wives who nagged their husbands or women who gossiped. It was an iron mask that fitted around the face and generally included some sort of iron gag that was inserted into the mouth. Sometimes the gags were spiked, causing the tongue to bleed continuously. If you think about it, you move your tongue constantly: when you swallow, when you speak, when you eat or drink, or even if you are just sitting around. Your tongue almost never remains still. Now imagine a spike that anchored it to the bottom of your mouth. If you swallow, the spike tears the muscle a bit and it bleeds. If you take a drink, again, it bleeds. What I don’t understand is why this guy used two instruments that were not specifically designed to kill. He obviously wanted to inflict as much pain as possible. But what message is he sending by using these specific devices? There’s no connection between the two. I mean, historically. Usually a nag or gossip was given a sentence, or her husband determined the length of time, that the device was worn. It wasn’t generally used in combination with other torture devices. This guy has to be saying something more.”

  Michael and Katie stepped back to allow Fred and Dr. Bennett to turn Elaine over. Free of the device, it was now clear to see that her back and the backs of her thighs had suffered the same treatment as the front. Once again, Dr. Bennett began her examination at the feet and moved up. Fred took pictures of everything and noted it on the forms. Overhead, the video camera continued to record everything said and done for the official record.

  With the external examination completed, Fred pulled the arm of the x-ray machine over the body. Michael, Katie and Dr. Bennett stepped behind the protective wall as Fred went about taking the x-rays. Once he competed the ones of the back, Dr. Bennett assisted him in turning Elaine back over. She once again joined Michael and Katie while Fred resumed his process. The three of them joined Fred on the right side of the room as the images began coming up on the three screens mounted to the wall. They reviewed the x-rays, beginning with views of the skull and moving down the body. There were no broken bones.

  Moving to the x-rays of the pelvis, they all noted something inserted in the vaginal cavity. At Katie’s sigh, everyone turned to look at her.

  “It’s called the Pear of Anguish,” she said. “It’s basically an iron or metal pear shaped device. Once inserted, it is cranked open. It was used as punishment for various crimes. It could be used orally as a punishment for heresy, anally for punishment of homosexuality, or vaginally for adulterers. As it opened, it basically destroyed the muscles around it. Sometimes it also had spikes to maximize the damage caused. I don’t see spikes on this x-ray, but I suppose we’ll see once it is removed. I can show you how to do that.” Katie and Dr. Bennett walked back over to the body. The men stood back, in a show of respect for the victim. Katie bent Elaine’s legs and maneuvered them open. Reaching up, she began unscrewing what looked like another flower. As she did this, the device inside slowly closed until eventually she was able to remove it. Neither woman said a word, as Dr. Bennett put the device on a separate tray for Fred to photograph and tag. The women rejoined the men and the somber group completed the view of the x-rays.

  Returning to the body, Dr. Bennett was about to begin her internal examination when Michael’s phone rang. Excusing himself, he stepped aside to answer the call. After a brief conversation, he ended the call and said, “We have another woman who has been kidnapped in Shelbyville. The Chief asked us to come back down and help out. They’re canvassing the area now.” After getting Dr. Bennett’s assurances that she would forward all her findings to them that afternoon, the two departed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Needing to clear her mind from the horror she had just witnessed, Katie pulled out one of the cold case files from her briefcase. “Tell me about the Henry Stephens case,” she said to Michael. She flipped through the file as Michael began to talk.

  “Well, about twenty-five years ago, Henry Stephens - known to his friends as Hank - was found shot to death in his home. His wife, Charlene was nowhere to be found. The police searched for weeks for her, but it was as if she disappeared into thin air.”

  “How did this become an FBI case? I don’t see why the locals would ask for our assistance for a single unsolved murder.”

  “That’s where the Stephens murder is weird. His tox screen came back positive for alcohol and OxyContin. Hank was known as a hard-core opponent of drug use. He had forbidden his wife from hanging out with some of her family because they were known users or dealers. In fact, her cousin Billy Sheppard was arrested the night of the murder for attempting to sell Oxy to an undercover officer. Oxy was just coming to be known as a problem on the streets, so the locals were really cracking down on anyone caught selling it. Billy was found with over eighty pills on him. The locals turned to our drug unit for help. They wanted to try to stop this in its tracks before there was a full-blown epidemic in their city. Billy refused to say where he got the drugs, so he was tried and convicted. The strange thing is that he was offered a deal; he could either name his source, or he could work as a snitch and let the cops find his source through watching him. He still refused. They all knew that Billy was small-time. It never made sense to anyone that he wouldn’t name his supplier. Then Hank’s body was found and everyone looked to Billy. Lucky for him, Billy was in jail at the time of the murder. The cops tried every which way to Sunday to get him to talk. Instead, he chose to serve his two years and then went about his business. He’s never gotten in trouble again, seems to lead a clean life. We stop by every now and again to see if he’s had a change of heart, but to date, he never has.”

  Katie was silent for a few minutes, processing all that Michael had said. She continued to flip through the pages. “Hang on one second. You said he was shot to death? If he was so opposed to drugs, then it’s probably safe to say he didn’t voluntarily ingest the Oxy. So why drug him and then shoot him?”

  “Hmm, never thought of it that way. We all just assumed his distaste for anything drug-related was a front for him actually taking drugs.”

  “Isn’t there a way to know about long term drug use?” Katie asked.

  “That’s a good question. Might be something we can look up when we get back to the office. I do know that OxyContin causes euphoria. Hard to imagine a man who’s happy beating his wife as often as Hank seemed to beat Charlene. She was in the hospital almost more than she was out.”

  A slight “hmm” was the only reply. They rode the rest of the way in silence. An hour and a half after leaving the morgue, they turned onto a residential street in Shelbyville. The houses were run down and the yards in disrepair. More than one boasted cars on blocks and at the far end was a trailer in desperate need of attention. It looked like a stiff breeze could blow it down. The yard was securely fenced with several Beware of Dog signs posted along the side. This seemed to be the center of activity. Pulling up to the trailer, Michael and Katie emerged from the car and once again greeted Chief Davidson.

  “What makes you think this disappearance is related to the Henderson kidnapping?” Katie asked once they had exchanged greetings.

  “Well, for one thing, Barbie Jones volunteers with Elaine at Christ the King. For another, she disappeared from the park that backs up to church property. We’ve been out canvassing damn near the whole town. Still no sign of her,” Chief Davidson said.

  “No offense, but serial kidnappers and murderers generally have a certain type. They look the same or have a similar socioeconomic status, something to tie
them together.” Katie’s tone was sharp.

  It had only taken Michael half a day to realize that social interaction and sensitivity weren’t Katie’s forte. He gently stepped in to take over questioning, silently hoping that the two of them could form a relationship that worked. He already knew he admired her mind. She saw things differently. Perhaps keeping her on the evidence and him on the interviews would help the investigation. “What else can you tell us about Ms. Jones that might connect her disappearance to Elaine’s?” he asked. Michael instinctually knew that he would get more from the chief if he kept the women’s names front and center.

  “Well, Barbie - full name Barbara Ann Jones - was born and raised here. Hell, my son went to high school with her. Even dated her for a while right after. She always had eyes for Chuck, though. That girl was plumb crazy about him.”

  “I believe Elaine was thirty-eight, correct? How old is Barbie?” Michael asked.

  “I would put her about thirty or so. Let’s see… DeWayne, my son, just turned thirty-one, so that would be about right.”

  Nodding, Michael motioned toward the trailer. “Think we can go in and talk to the husband?” At the chief’s nod, the three of them headed inside. The minute they walked through the door, three pit bulls stood to their feet and stared at them. The dogs didn’t growl or bark, but their stance was obviously protective of their master.

  “Sit,” came the quiet command from the man sitting at the kitchen table. “Are you the feds? You gonna find my wife?” Despite the look of the outside of the trailer, the inside was immaculate. It was obvious that someone had taken good care of the furnishings inside, even though they were in threadbare conditions. There wasn’t a speck of dust or dirt to be found. Even with three dogs in the house, there was no pet hair anywhere. On the end tables, the lamps sat on crocheted doilies. The headrest of the recliner sported an enlarged version of the doily.