The 7th Victim - Alan Jacobson [35]
Bledsoe nodded. “Which means our workload just increased. Sin, find out what other docs she works for and while you’re at it, round up their patient lists. Perp might be on there.”
“Will they give us their patient lists? Confidentiality—”
“Come on,” Manette said. “Who’s gonna get bent outta shape over a freaking root canal? They give you problems, lean on ’em. They’re dentists, they don’t want no trouble. Besides, we’re not asking for their records, just a list. You want, I’ll do it.”
Sinclair’s bald head flushed with anger. “I can handle it.”
“Good,” Bledsoe said. “There’s a bunch of things we’re working on, so I put together a quick summary of what’s going on and who’s doing what. You can add Sin’s assignment to the bottom.”
“How do you want to handle the perp’s message?” Manette asked.
Bledsoe pulled a small spiral notepad from his sport coat pocket, flipped a couple of pages. “‘It’s in the . . . ,’” he mumbled. He shook his head, then said, “I think we should attack this like we would any other piece of evidence. Karen, you have any new thoughts on this?”
“Nothing I’m willing to share just yet.”
“Look, I know you don’t like to guess, but right now we’ve got nothing to go on. Even a guess would send us in a direction. Might be the wrong one, but it could also be the right one.”
“I’ve got one,” Hancock said.
Vail rolled her eyes. “Here we go.”
“I think it means he’s playing with us, taunting us, daring us to find the severed hand.”
“And?” Bledsoe asked. “Did you find it?”
“Not yet, but—”
“Look, Bledsoe, you wanted my opinion, I’ll give it to you,” Vail said. “Right now there are too many possibilities. So I’ll tell you what my gut says. This message meant a lot to this offender. He took great risks to leave it for us. I don’t think it’s taunting per se, but I think he’s trying to tell us something without directly telling us. He doesn’t want to make it too easy. But bottom line is, there is meaning in it. Just what that meaning is, I don’t have a clue and a hunch wouldn’t be worth anything. Hancock’s got a hunch and it means nothing.”
“To hell with you, Vail,” Hancock yelled. “You’ve been on my case since the minute I walked through the vic’s door. What did I ever do to you?”
Bledsoe shook his head in disgust. “Okay, all right, enough.” He turned to Vail. “He’s right, Karen, lose the attitude.”
“Damn straight,” Hancock said.
“I’m consulting VICAP, see if we get any hits on similar cases,” Vail said calmly.
“Who’s got the vic’s employers?” Sinclair asked.
“Hernandez,” Bledsoe said, “that’s yours. Check out the people the vics worked for. Then check out their customers. Anything pops up that’s even possibly suspicious, let’s all discuss it.”
“Got it, boss.”
They spent the next two hours running scenarios and making phone calls and assembling lists. The usual bone-grinding police work. As they rose to disperse, Bledsoe gave a quick whistle. “Before I forget. Expenses. Save your receipts, give ’em to me in an envelope marked with your name every Monday for the previous week. Make sure you write down what each receipt is for. I’ll get them to admin at my house and they’ll send it through internal review. So don’t be ordering no three-course meals. Now go home and get some rest. We’ll meet here every morning at eight. You can’t make it, let me know. We’re on flex time, but I don’t want anyone taking advantage. We got us a killer to catch, and each day, each hour, each minute that passes we don’t get something accomplished means some other woman is closer to being cut up. Clear?”
Everyone nodded, then dispersed. Vail walked over to Hancock, who tilted his chin back and looked down his nose at her. She said, “I think you were right, Hancock. About the artistic feel to the murals. Just wanted you to know.”
Hancock regarded her for a few seconds before responding. “You know, I could’ve done your job, Vail. I could’ve been a profiler.”
Vail pulled a stick of gum from her pocket and folded it into her mouth. “What do you want me to say? Wasn’t my decision.”
“That’s what you want to think.