“Joy to the world,” Faith said drily.
***
Faith felt a touch of guilt as she stepped past the teeming crowd of shouting reporters through the police cordon into the World War Two Memorial.Like Hayes, this memorial and many others like it were only an hour north of her house, but she’d never visited this place once.She’d never visited any war memorials except when she needed to as part of a case.Why was she so disconnected from her military past?She didn’t even talk to her former squad mates, and that was unheard of for a Marine.
“Oh, God,” Jessica choked.
Faith turned to see her partner rushing away, trying to escape the area before nausea took her.Everyone had their limits when it came to gore.Apparently, this was Jessica’s.
Jessica had nowhere to go.The memorial was surrounded by police officers, press, and looky-loos.With no other choice, she bent over the fountain and vomited.
Faith heard the snap of cameras and saw reporters excitedly talking about the FBI agent who had just thrown up at the sight of the body.Her lip curled in disgust, and it took all of her effort not to extend both middle fingers to the press.They really were the lowest form of human life.
She regretted saying that immediately when she looked at the body.Turk looked it over professionally, not bothered by the macabre sight of a man’s skull picked half clean and missing one eye.The crows really had gotten to him.Hopefully they hadn’t obfuscated an important piece of evidence.
Faith approached the body, noting her lack of discomfort at the revolting sight.She took pictures of her own, noting the teardrop of epoxy protruding from a hole at the base of the victim’s neck, the deep purple bruising of the ligature mark extending below in several places where the ruptured blood vessels had spilled into his neck.
And of course, the dog tags.Twenty of them, hung in a loose pile around his throat, gleaming dully in the morning light.That was forty different dog tags this killer had placed around the necks of his victims.They couldn’t possibly be intentional personal reminders.Symbolic then.But of what?The victims’ failure to save lives?They were chaplains, not medics.
That reminded Faith.She wasn’t certain yet that this victim was a chaplain.
She straightened and walked to the police officer in charge of the scene, an irritated-looking man of about forty in a senior sergeant’s uniform.“Excuse me, can I get the victim’s name, please?”
The sergeant glared at her for a moment before adopting a practiced neutral expression.When he talked, Faith recognized the sarcastic officer who had called earlier to report the body.“Major Daniel Cruz, Chaplain of the 2ndBattalion, 1stBrigade Combat Team, 327thInfantry Regiment.”
US Army.A Chaplain, but not a member of the same branch as Hayes.That challenged the hypothesis that the killer was someone who had served with Hayes.
“Time of death?”
“Coroner will have to figure it out for sure, but CSI estimates about five-thirty.”
“Right before dawn.Close to the same time as the last victim.”She looked around the memorial.“Except this place is completely open and accessible to the public, so how did he kill this man inject him with epoxy, and stage him like this without being seen?”
“There’s construction on 17thStreet,” the sergeant replied.“A lot of people are detouring around the mall.We get joggers, but they’re thin until dawn, especially after the Moss killings.”
Faith frowned.“Right.I guess if the killer was aware of his surroundings, he could find a way to avoid attention.”
“The sad truth is that people don’t like to pay attention unless it’s happening to them.They’d rather look the other way and hope the problem passes them by before they can be seen.”
Faith looked back at the body.“Hell of a problem to let pass them by.”
The sergeant nodded.“Yeah.I agree.”He extended his hand to Faith.“Franklin.”
Faith smiled slightly.Apparently, she had earned Franklin’s respect somehow.“Bold.”
She shook his hand, then gestured at the body.“Anyone to notify?”
“No.He’s Presbyterian, and they’re allowed to have sex, but he didn’t have a wife or a family.”
Faith frowned again.Hayes and Cruz weren’t even the same denomination.Ideally, a new victim would bring more connections to explore, not confirm the absence of connections.
Ideally, there wouldn’t be a new victim.
Turk trotted to Faith and snorted, a sign that he had found nothing.Faith glowered at the reporters ringing the memorial.They and the crows—most of whom waited patiently atop nearby powerlines—had obfuscated any scents Turk might have followed.
That could have been part of the killer’s strategy.This case had nothing to do with animals, but Turk’s help solving several high-profile cases in recent years was well known, and the FBI’s K9 program was robust and leading the way for many law enforcement agencies to develop similar programs.The killer probably knew that it would be nearly impossible to completely conceal his presence, but he could at least arrange to kill people in places where he’d have a chance to get far away before he was noticed, either at Arlington before visiting hours when no one else was there or here at the Memorial where construction had left a small window of opportunity before sunrise brought crowds here to obscure his scent.
“You can turn this back over to CSI,” Faith told Franklin.“Have them work quickly and get the coroner out here to take this body ASAP.”
