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“Eh, I wasn’t really complimenting you. It just seemed like the socially acceptable thing to say.” St. Pierre let out her signature laugh. Her acerbic wit rivaled that of any detective I’d ever met.
She plopped down in the wooden chair next to my desk.
I leaned in close and said, “What’s up? The look on your face tells me it’s not good news.”
“I deal with death and sorrow every day. I never have good news. Only news that can help an investigation or slow it down. Which some detectives view as bad.”
I nodded. “So which kind of news are you bringing me?”
“I can almost guarantee this will be…confusing news.”
“Let me have it.”
First, she gave me a physical profile of our killer. “Forensics says he’s probably a male about five foot ten, right-handed, and fairly strong based on the wounds on each of the victims. Statistics would indicate we can assume he’s probably Caucasian if we’re dealing with a serial killer.”
I could see her hesitate, as if there was no way I was going to like what she was about to say next.
“An initial analysis of the blood found at the Elaine Anastas crime scene on 30th Street has come back.”
I had to break the suspense routine. “C’mon, Jill, you’re killing me. What did you find?”
“There are two different sources of blood in the apartment.”
“So you agree with theories that there was a second victim?”
St. Pierre shook her head. “Not necessarily. We didn’t find much blood from the second sample.” She paused. “I also think that blood may have been deliberately placed rather than spilled.”
Another bizarre piece of the puzzle? “What makes you say that?” I asked.
“Because of where that blood was located—we only found the second sample on some baseball figurines.”
I remembered the bobbleheads that had caught my attention at the scene, and she confirmed that was what she was talking about. Could the killer have cut himself? Was he marking his crime scene in some way?
“Were there multiple blood sources found at any of the other crime scenes?”
“Not that we’ve located so far, but now that we know there might be, we’ll be going back over the evidence we’ve collected to see if anything was missed.”
“Any chance you can figure out where the blood from this scene came from?” I asked the forensic scientist.
“Once we have the full DNA profile, I assure you we’ll run it through every database we can. If there’s an existing profile related to our sample, we’ll find it.”
Even as I thanked her, my mind was starting to drift off to the endless possibilities. None of them were good.
Chapter 28
I was still processing the information about there being two sources of blood at Elaine Anastas’s apartment.
I must’ve been staring off into space as I considered what this new forensic discovery meant for my case when I heard “Nice to see NYPD so hard at work.”
I turned to see a man about my age, dressed in a sharp Armani suit, standing next to my desk. He had Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses perched on an otherwise shiny, bald head. Just another guy trying to project that he was younger than he looked. It wasn’t working.
He stuck out his hand and said, “John Macy, advisor to the mayor.”
I took his hand and mumbled, “Michael Bennett.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I just drove all the way uptown and waded through your maze of security.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Macy? I’m a little busy at the moment.”
