“Not much, as it turns out. So, I’m having MAX look where they didn’t look. I’ve inputted just about everything I can think of into the program so we’ve got a prayer of turning up something helpful.”
She didn’t say anything, just looked at him. She felt hope well up, but she was afraid to nourish it. She saw that he was rubbing his neck.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I worked out too hard last night after you left and then spent too much time hunched over MAX. No big deal.”
“If you’re not too macho, you might consider some aspirin. On the other hand, I hesitate to say anything at all now, given that you and MAX together are such a great team and MAX has got the bit between his teeth.”
“Yeah, he’s got a great byte.”
“That was funny, Dillon, if you spelled it right.”
“Trust me. I did.”
“You look like you’re ready to burst out of your skin and you can still be funny.”
“You’re not laughing.”
“I’m too scared.” And it was the truth. She was terrified he would kill again, terrified that he would escape and there would never be justice.
He watched her walk away from him across to the far windows that looked down eight floors to the street below.
“You want to tell me what else happened seven years ago?”
She actually flinched as if he’d struck her. He rose slowly and walked to her. He reached out his hand, looked at it, then dropped his arm back to his side. He said only, “Sherlock.”
She didn’t turn, just shook her head.
MAX beeped. Savich pressed the PRINT button. After a moment, he picked out one sheet of paper from the printer. He began to laugh. “MAX says our person may be in building supplies.”
She whipped around so fast she nearly fell. “As in a lumberyard?”
“Yes. He says that odds are good that with all the building materials the killer left behind, the type of hardware the killer used, the type of nails, the wood, the kinds of corkboard, the brackets, etcetera, that our guy works in lumber. Of course, the cops in the SFPD looked at every prop he left behind at every murder. It turns out that the wood wasn’t traceable, that all the brackets, hinges, and screws were common and sold everywhere. They came up dry. Now, they never specifically went after men who worked in lumberyards. MAX thinks we should look again.”
Her eyes were sparkling. “MAX is the greatest. It’s brilliant.”
“We’ll see. Now in addition to a guy who works in lumber, we’ve also got a psychopath who hates women and cuts out their tongues. Why? Because he himself has taken grief from them or seen other men take the grief?”
She said slowly, not meeting his eyes, “Just maybe he cuts out their tongues because he knows they bad-mouth their husbands and curse a whole lot. Maybe he doesn’t believe women should curse. Maybe that’s how he picks out the women to kill.”
She’d known that all along, he thought, but how? It was driving him crazy, but he let it go for now. He knew she was right on the money. It felt right to his gut-no, perfect. He said easily, “That sounds really possible. Weren’t there some profiles drawing that conclusion?”
“Yes, certainly there were. The guy’s not in the theater or anything sexy like that?”
“Nope. I’ll called Ralph. He can check to see who’s arrived during the past year in Boston who works for a lumberyard.” Now that he thought about it, perhaps he had seen some speculation about that in some of the reports and profiles he’d read. Still, there was a whole lot more to all this. He looked at her. She looked away. Trust was a funny thing. It took time.
Marlin Jones was the assistant manager at the Appletree Home Supplies and Mill Yard in Newton Center. He was in conversation with his manager, Dude Crosby, when a pretty young woman with thick, curly auburn hair came up to him, a piece of plywood in her hand. There was something familiar about her.
He smiled at her, his eyes on that foot-long piece of plywood. He said before she could explain, “The problem is that the plywood’s too cheap. You tried to put a nail through it and it shredded the plywood. If you’ll come over here, I’ll show you some better pieces that won’t fall apart on you. Have we met before?”