The tech’s glasses were large to the point of ridiculousness with microscopes for lenses.The tech – who’d introduced himself as Sheldon and then insisted Ella call him Shelly – had spent the past thirty minutes hunched over Eddie Foxall’s body.
‘I’m no coroner,’ he said to Ella, ‘but I’m not seeing any signs of strangulation here.If you ask me, your perp bashed his head in.’
Bashed his head inseemed an odd phrase for a man of his position, but everything about this crime scene was odd.Ripley appeared and tapped Ella on the shoulder.She’d materialized at some point when Ella was clutching Sheila Foxall, but it could have been minutes or hours after she’d collapsed into Ella’s arms.Time warped in the presence of death.
‘So, this isn’t some vendetta against women,’ Ripley said.
‘No.Victimology has taken a hard left.Young women to a thirty-something man, and it’s not just the victim that’s changed.Amber and Rose were ambushed in the open, but this indoors, earlier in the evening, in a residential neighborhood with houses on either side.He’s adapting his approach to fit the target, which means these victims aren’t surrogates.He’s targeting them for a reason.’
Ripley scanned the room.‘Well-off couple, nice house, American dream.Jealousy?’
Ella looked beyond the sunroom doors into the garden.The houses on this street were spaced out by about thirty feet, but the Foxall home was smack in the middle of them.‘No.If that was the case, he’d pick an easier house to get into.Why choose one in the middle of the row?He’d just pick the one at the end.Less chance of anyone seeing him.’
‘I guess.What’s with the blood?That’s new.’
‘Blunt-force trauma.He used a weapon this time.’
‘Maybe because it’s the first male he’s killed.He probably didn’t have the strength or confidence to strangle a big guy like Foxall.’
‘Agreed,’ Ella said.‘Or they got into a struggle, but I doubt it because nothing around here is broken.’
‘At least he’s consistent with his calling cards.’
‘Another figurine, which means there’s a fourth victim in the pipeline, so we need to pull apart every detail of that thing once forensics have swept it.You get any eyewitnesses?’
‘Neighbors are a bust.No one saw or heard anything until the wife got home and started screaming.’Ripley flipped through her notes.‘No time of death yet, but Sheldon over there guesses about an hour ago.’
One hour.The world could tilt on its axis in one hour.Lives could end, and the living could have no idea until they walked through the door and found their loved ones dead on the floor with wooden figurines stuffed in their hands.
‘Then let’s work the scene,’ Ella said.‘See what we can piece together.’
‘After you,’ said Ripley.
Ella glanced over at the pristine living room and then back to the sunroom.‘I’ve checked every other room – upstairs included – and there are no disturbances, which means everything took place in the sunroom.’
Ripley nodded at the French doors.‘So, he had to have come through the back door.’
‘Yup.’Ella headed towards them, careful not to interrupt the technicians working alongside Foxall’s corpse, then stepped out into the garden.‘This is the same way I came too, because the front door was locked.’
Ripley moved onto the lawn then said, ‘Easy enough to scale that fence.Some of the plants near the back are trampled.Our unsub could have hidden right at the back, away from prying eyes.’
Ella put herself in the killer’s head.‘So he jumped the fence, came to the back door – but how’d he know it’d be open?’She leaned down and inspected the lock.Brass, single-barrel, nothing out of the ordinary.
But then something caught her eye.
She ran a gloved finger across the metal.‘What’s this?Scuff marks?’
‘Looks like it, but every lock has scuff marks.’
Ella scanned the garden again.Two rows of well-loved plants, a lawn that didn’t have a blade of grass out of place save for Ella’s recent trampling.‘You reckon?Even someone as house-proud as the Foxalls?’
‘Well, no one’s going to scuff a lock on purpose, are they?But accidents happen.Are you telling me you never missed the hole and scraped the side?’
‘You’re asking the wrong gender,’ Ella said as she snapped photos of the lock with her phone, ‘but my uncle used to go round and T-cut the locks on his doors.Kept them looking new, he said.’
‘He sounds insane.’
‘Maybe, but we can’t rule out forced entry.Make sure techs sweep this door too.’
