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“And the numbers?” Violet asked.
“I got to thinking about prostitutes—”
“Which I don’t tend to agree with,” Pulaski stated. “I know we got drug running going on, and the rumor is Whiskey uses women to do it. DEA has a close eye on him, but I don’t know that he’s running holler hookers.”
“We’re not saying he is,” Violet said. “But we are running down the possibilities. We have nothing else concrete to track. Ty, what were you about to say?”
“The numbers are interesting,” Ty said. “Not necessarily meant for us as a calling card. But an exclamation point in blood so to speak. Proverbs six. Verses twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five and twenty-six. He’s dropped the ‘twenty’ in front of all the numbers except for the first verse. He marks the two and the zero, then uses singular digits—probably for space constraints, but he doesn’t want the numbers anywhere else. The forehead—the mind—it matters.”
6-2 0-1-2-3-4-5-6.
“What’s the verses say?”
Tiberius picked up a black King James Version Bible. “I’ll read it for full effect. ‘My son, keep thy father’s commandment, and forsake not the law of thy mother: Bind them continually upon thine heart, and tie them about thy neck. When thou goest, it shall lead thee; when thou sleepest, it shall keep thee; and when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee. For the commandment is a lamp; and the law is light; and reproofs of instruction are the way of life: To keep thee from the evil woman, from the flattery of the tongue of a strange woman. Lust not after her beauty in thine heart; neither let her take thee with her eyelids. For by means of a whorish woman a man is brought to a piece of bread: and the adultress will hunt for the precious life.’”
Violet let the words percolate. “Can I see it for myself?”
Ty handed over the Bible, and she read it again and again.
“I went onto BibleGateway, which is a Bible website, and entered prostitute in some more modern translations. A few stuck out, and I looked them up in an older version, the King James Version. It doesn’t use the word prostitute but whore, but it means the same. When I saw verse twenty-five...that was that.”
“The eyelids.”
“The eyelids,” he confirmed. “All people are driven by belief in something. False or true. If a person is religious, then their religious beliefs will directly influence their behavior. What they do or don’t do. What is right and what is wrong. This man is warned not to lust. To keep himself from an adulterous woman or prostitute or any woman who might be seductive in speech or form. The batting of the eyes is the expression here concerning eyelids. If he were to succumb to the seduction, he’d be sinning against God, and it could cost him his life.”
Violet tracked with Ty. “But he can’t help himself. Then he feels rage and hatred for his actions and for the prostitute. That’s why they had intercourse, but it wasn’t rape. He paid for services. Then he went into a rage. Brutally beat them. Took their eyes and sutured their eyelids to prevent them from ever batting their eyelashes or luring him.”
“Or anyone else,” John said. “He might be trying to protect other men from falling into the same trap, which is exactly how he’d view their actions—a trap.”
Violet nodded. “A preacher wouldn’t want any of his congregants to fall into this snare. But would he pay for his own sister’s services? Would she be participant to that?” If it was Wendell Atwater, how did his sister fit in?
“Maybe he caught her in the act with someone in his congregation, and while her death fits the same pattern, the one thing missing is he wasn’t the one to sleep with her.” John then looked to Kip, who hadn’t chimed in at all. He sat quietly and held up his hands revealing he had nothing to add.
“There’s some other verses,” Ty said, “that talk about darkness. Deuteronomy mentions those groping in darkness blind but unable to find their way out, oppressed and no one coming to save them. It’s about spiritual blindness. I think he may be using the blinding and the caves to bring this Scripture to life. They grope hoping for someone to save them, then instead of rescuing them, he beats them. Strangles them. Proverbs says he’s to tie the words of wisdom to his neck to continually be a lamp to guide him. I think that’s why he chooses strangulation for the manner of death.”
Agent Pulaski low whistled. “You’re building a big profile on a Scripture that might not be right.”
Possibly, but Violet’s gut screamed they had it on the nose. “We need someone to concretely confirm these girls are prostitutes.”
John huffed. “Who? People are complicit or have actively participated. But the Scripture used on the leather purses makes more sense now.”
I am dark but lovely.
“Cecil Johnson. Let’s talk to him. Now.” They were running out of time. Bella Dawn was missing. Most likely already dead. Atta was taken on a late Friday night and found on Sunday. Nadine was rushed. Time wasn’t on their side. “Ty, you and Agent Pulaski—since you’re here to help—go take a crack at Wendell. Go down the angle we’ve discovered she’s a prostitute. If he’s not the killer, that may be why they were in a fight. She was at Whiskey’s bar. He came in. Saw her with someone or working the floor. They got into it. He hit her. But take a good look at all those rooms and get him to allow you to search his place and church without a warrant if you can.”
Ty and Agent Pulaski stood. “However I can help,” Pulaski said. “What are you going to do?”
“John and I are going to see Cecil Johnson. He’s on my radar.” Right along with Regis Owsley, Dr. D.J. Lanslow and Dr. Crocker. “Ty, anything new on the hunt to confirm Lanslow’s alibi?”
“Selah is digging. I’m going there personally tomorrow morning before I track down Jimmy Russell to find out why he didn’t mention Ruby Boyd being at Nadine’s place that night, and if I have time, stop in at the Black Feather and see if the story we’ve been given about Atta Atwater coming in after a fight can be corroborated. Hey, maybe I’ll get a break and Mr. Anonymous Caller will be there and fess up.”
Doubtful. “Sounds good.” They dispersed, and she and John got inside his car. On their way to Alpha and Omega Handcrafted Leathers, she ruminated on a long list of suspects. Every person in the holler as far as she was concerned.
They pulled up to the curb and saw the light on inside the leather shop. Good. Cecil was here even at this late hour. Violet hurried to the front door. Locked. She knocked. Waited. Knocked again.
Finally, Cecil stepped into view wearing a white sweater and dark jeans. The light cast him in an ethereal glow. “Is it me or is he ridiculously beautiful?”
“Not that I like to discuss men’s looks, but...yeah. He’s what we’d have called a pretty boy back in the day.”
