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“Most likely not, no.”
“We know he’s male too,” Michael said. “The voice was disguised, but not enough to hide the killer’s gender.”
“Most likely male, yes.”
“And now that I’ve heard it, I’m leaning toward revenge,” Michael replied.
“I don’t know,” Faith said. “If it was revenge, I feel like the killer would want to see the victim die.”
“If he was a crazy, I feel like he would want to stick around for kicks,” Michael retorted. “This guy seems too well put-together. It takes a lot of planning to make something like this happen.”
“Kenneth Langeveldt wasn’t well put-together, and his killings were even more intricate than this,” Faith reminded him.
Langeveldt had used a cocktail of powerful narcotics to paralyze people and keep them at his home as stand-ins for his real family, whom he had also murdered. When his victims eventually died of dehydration or heart failure, he would replace them with random people he would stalk and kidnap near his place of business, the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore. He was, as Michael had pointed out, very far from put-together, but had eluded multiple law enforcement agencies before Faith and Michael had stopped him.
“Who found the body?” Faith asked.
“A Ms. Henrietta Eckersley,” Missy replied. “Ms., not Miss. She was very particular about that.”
“Can we talk to her?” Michael asked.
“Be my guest,” Missy said. “I’ll let you handle that on your own. I’m drowning in paperwork from another case a few miles away. Kid robbed a convenience store. Owner got spooked and pulled a gun, but his wasn’t loaded. The kid’s was.”
“Oof,” Michael said.
“Yep. I guess since you guys are taking lead on the burials, the captain wants me to focus on the convenience store killing. Anyway, I’m available if you need anything, but I’ll stay out of your way otherwise. When it’s over, I’m treating you all to Texas barbecue, so don’t head out without saying goodbye.”
“Thanks very much,” Michael replied.
They headed to the residence of Ms., not Miss, Henrietta Eckersley. It was a well-manicured Victorian home on a half-acre lot that held a well-manicured garden and a nice but not overly fancy marble fountain. Everything was just so. Faith smiled slightly and imagined a perfectly prim and perfectly proper elderly woman in a well-tailored sundress with silk slippers, a shawl, and a wide sunhat nodding curtly in approval of the landscaping.
Ms. Henrietta Eckersley was exactly that, and wore an almost identical outfit except for the shawl, which was replaced by a surprisingly youthful cardigan that nonetheless seemed only to accentuate the Victorian primness of Ms. Eckersley herself. She greeted the investigators formally and invited them to join her on her porch for sweet tea. Her accent was probably once as thick as Missy’s but had softened considerably after years of rich living, a privilege she was not ashamed to admit she gained through marriage.
“My Henry was an austere man, but he was very kind to me.” She dabbed very politely at her eyes with a silk handkerchief that probably cost more than Faith’s entire outfit. “I miss him so.”
“Ms. Eckersley,” Michael began.
“Oh please,” she replied. “It’s Henrietta.”
Michael offered her the dazzling movie star smile that women of all ages melted for. Henrietta was no exception, blushing furiously even before Michael replied, “In that case, I’m Michael. Henrietta, can you tell us what you saw yesterday morning?”
“Of course,” she replied. “I was visiting my Henry as I always do on Friday mornings, and I noticed that there was a fresh grave nearby. I went over to see if it was someone I knew, but there was no headstone. That struck me as quite odd, so I called management, and when they informed me that there had been no scheduled burials for a week, I immediately called the police. With the blessing of management, of course.”
“Did you notice anyone else at the cemetery when you visited?”
“A few,” she replied. “Perhaps a dozen. The cemetery is far busier on weekends than on weekdays, of course.”
“Anyone seem out of place? Like they didn’t belong?”
Henrietta fixed a frank stare on Michael. “Does anyone really belong in a cemetery, Michael?”
We’re all heading there one day, Faith thought.
She kept that thought to herself, though, and Michael clarified. “Anyone who seemed suspicious, I mean.”
“No, no one suspicious. Not thatIcould tell anyway. My Henry was always a far better judge of human nature than I was, however.” She dabbed at her eyes again. “I miss him so.”
They asked a few more questions, but Henrietta seemed more interested in talking about her dearly departed husband than about the case, and when she did talk about the case, she had very little to contribute.
