CHAPTER 22

 

 

“Damn!” Jake muttered as he opened his eyes to the ‘peep-peep’ of his alarm. “How can it be morning already?” Although he’d been in bed for nine hours, he felt like he’d just gotten there.

Turning onto his back, he basked in the warmth and relaxation of what promised to become a good period of sleep. Soon his breathing slowed, became even and deep. Jake drifted back into a light sleep. It didn’t last long, though. As his jaw dropped open and his breaths became stronger exhalations, a discordant snore ripped through the bedroom.

With a start, Jake shook himself awake. Sitting up, he threw off the sheet that served as his only covering and swung his legs off the side of the bed.

Why did he keep feeling so tired after sleeping so many hours? He pondered this as he went through his morning ritual of trudging to the kitchen to fire up the coffee maker. Then back to the bathroom for a bracing shower. Afterwards, he felt almost normal. I’ve gotta talk to the doc about this sleep thing. That reminds me, I’ve got an appointment with Petrino first thing.

After showering and two cups of strong coffee, Jake felt ready to go out to meet the day. During that time of the morning, the traffic usually would be heavy with rush hour. Jake gave himself plenty of time to make the trip. Good thing, too. The interstate was posing as a four-lane parking lot. Fortunately, he never got out of the right-hand lane. Unfortunately, he found himself right behind one of those jacked-up pickups that require a ladder to climb into the cab. Twenty minutes of staring at the exposed undercarriage of the truck and a vanity plate that read KSMYAS was enough. As soon as he could, Jake made an exit and traveled the last three miles on surface streets. The drive to Petrino’s office at least gave him time to plan out the rest of his schedule and to consider what he and Sheila needed to do to make some progress on the prostitute murders. Anything to keep from thinking about what Petrino got in the mail about him. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

He still didn’t know why Petrino needed to send off for his records. If he thought Petrino needed to know something, he’d tell him. After all, it was about Jake, it was his information. He’d share what was important. He wondered what Petrino had found out. The doc had sounded excited over the phone. What could he have gotten that would make him feel that way? There was nothing back there that had anything to do with Jake doing his job. Wish he’d just certify me for work an’ let it go.

That time of the morning, there was no problem finding a parking place in the lot next to the doctor’s office. No more than three or four other cars waited there. The coolness of the morning refreshed him almost as much as the coffee had. Inside, no one stirred around. The other offices were not yet occupied for the day. In fact, it was so quiet, Jake began to wonder if Petrino was even there yet.

The door of his office suite stood open, however. Jake went in and stood in front of the secretary’s desk. In a couple of minutes, she emerged from the room opposite the doctor’s office.

“Oh, hello, Det. Wiley,” she said in greeting. A brilliant smile outlined a perfect set of teeth. “Do you have an appointment?” She consulted an appointment book that lay on her desk.

“Uh, yes. Doc called me late yesterday and said he wanted to see me. Something about some information he got about me.”

The secretary found his name penciled in. “Oh, yes. Here it is. Dr. Petrino must have written it in after I left yesterday.” She looked up at him. “If you’ll have a seat, the doctor should be out in a moment.”

“Is he here already?”

“Yes. I saw his Suburban as I drove in.”

Jake nodded, sat on one of the couches.

Three magazines later, neither of them had seen the doctor. Jake glanced up at the secretary, who smiled sheepishly. “He must be finishing up something.”

“Did he have anyone scheduled before me?”

“No. I’m sure he’s on the telephone or writing a report or something.” Her smile faded into a frown of concern as she turned back to her computer.

Ten more minutes crept by with no sign or sound of Dr. Petrino. The secretary walked back to the small kitchen across from the doctor’s office, pausing at his door. She returned and sat back down at her desk.

“Didn’t hear anything?” Jake asked.

“No. And that bothers me. Would you mind coming with me to check on him?”

“Are you sure it was his vehicle you saw out in the lot?” Jake asked as they walked with some reluctance down the hall.

“Yes. He has a vanity tag and I saw it on the car.” The secretary’s voice carried a worried tone. “Surely he didn’t stay here all night!”

“Why do you say that?
“He told me yesterday afternoon he had some paperwork to catch up on after his group and he’d be staying late.” She glanced up at Jake, her voice lowering almost to a whisper. “You don’t suppose he’s asleep, do you?” Her tone told him she wanted him to tell her this was true.

Jake didn’t answer. His gut told him something else had happened.

When they got to the door, both paused to listen. No sound. The secretary looked at Jake as if wanting permission to knock. He nodded.

“Dr. Petrino?” she called as she knocked softly at first, then a little harder. No response. “Dr. Petrino?”

She started to open the door, but Jake stopped her. “Let me,” he said, stepping to the side as he always did when opening strange doors. The secretary did the same.

Before he’d even gotten door all the way open, Jake knew the doctor wasn’t sleeping. The smell of opened bowels greeted him.

“You’d better go call the police and an ambulance,” he told the young lady.

To her credit, she didn’t cry or scream or faint. Just stared at him with rounded eyes for a second, then hurried to her desk. He heard her making the call as he went on into the office.

Dr. Petrino sat, head lying against the back of his chair, blood soaked into his clothes. There was no use feeling for a pulse, the gaping throat wound told him that, but Jake went through the formalities anyway. He touched nothing else. Glancing around the room, it didn’t seem as if much were disturbed. Some files were scattered about, but nothing else.

“Oh, my God!” The secretary stood in the door. Hand to her mouth, she seemed frozen to the spot, unable to take her eyes off her former boss.

Jake got to her just before she collapsed. “Come on, you don’t need to be here. You can’t help him.” He half-carried her back to one of the couches in the waiting area. “Lie down here ‘til the medics get here.”

She said nothing, just cried quietly.

Four minutes later, two paramedics came through the door, closely followed by a uniformed officer. Sterns was his name. He’d told Jake the day of the Shoot-Out how much money he’d won on him.

“Det. Wiley,” Sterns said in greeting. “How’d you get here so fast?”

Jake heard just the right amount of official suspicion in the question. “I found him. At least, his secretary and I did. This would’ve been my third session with him after the drug shooting.”

Sterns nodded, relaxing a little at the same time. “So what’s the story?” He got out a notebook as he asked the question.

Jake gave him the facts and helped him talk to the still-sobbing young lady on the couch. One of the paramedics came out and motioned to Jake.

“There’s nothing we can do for this guy,” he told Jake in muted tones. “I’m gonna call Doc Watkins.”

“Okay,” Jake told him. “Use the desk phone. You guys were careful in there?” As much a statement as a question.

“You betcha, Jake. Just like always. Didn’t touch anything but the body.”

Jake clapped him on the shoulder, staggering him. “I know. You guys are pros.”

He stepped back over to Officer Sterns. “I’ve got all I can from her, Jake,” Sterns said. “I need to call for the Forensics Team.”

A voice from behind them said, “All taken care of, Officer. They’re here with me.”

Both of them turned and saw Sheila standing just inside the door. Two other people stood behind her. “I heard the report called in as I was headed in. Decided to stop by since I was close.”

“He’s in the last room on the left,” Jake said to the Forensics people. They nodded and strode down the hall, carrying their equipment. Jake turned to his partner. “Hello, Sheila.” Turning again to include Sterns, he said, “Det. Spencer, this is Officer Sterns. He was first on the scene.”

For the next twenty minutes, Sterns and Jake brought Sheila up to speed. Just as they finished, Doc Watkins strode through the door.

“Good morning one and all!” he called out, a smile brightening his face.

“Awfully cheerful for this time of day, Doc,” Jake greeted him.

“A necessity in my business, Jake. And yours, I think. When you see as much gruesomeness as we share, you must develop cheer as a means of handling it all.” He grew more serious. “Where is our victim?”

“Down here,” Jake replied, leading the way.

“Ah,” Doc said when they got to the office. “The Forensics Team is already here, hard at work.”

“Sheila brought them with her,” Jake explained. “The secretary called the paramedics when we found him.”

“Excellent. All right if we enter, folks?” Doc asked the Forensics Team.

“Sure, Doc. We’ve dusted everything around the body and the desk. Getting ready to do the peripheral areas.”

“Find anything?” Jake asked.

“Nada. Zip. Zero.” The fingerprint expert shook his head. “Whoever did this was a pro, Jake. No prints anywhere. Either he wiped everything down or he wore gloves.”

“Okay. I know you guys’ll do your usual good job.”

“Damn right. We’re pros, too.” The woman partner moved up beside the fingerprint man. “If there’s anything here, we’ll find it.”

“Thanks,” Jake replied. He stepped over to join Sheila and Doc as they examined Petrino’s body.

As he joined them, Doc removed the thermometer he’d inserted into a cut-down in Petrino’s liver. Reading it, he compared the temperature to the ambient temperature of the room. Some quick calculations gave him an approximate time of death.

“I’d say between eight and ten hours ago.” Doc checked his watch. “Just before midnight last night.” He jotted this down on his form.

“The secretary said he told her he’d be working late, finishing up some reports before going on vacation this afternoon,” Jake filled him in. “That might explain why he was here at that time.”

“Jake, let’s go outside and let Doc work,” Sheila said. “We’ll be back in a little bit, Doc. Work your magic.”

Without looking up, Doc waved.

Outside the office, Sheila took Jake back to the waiting area. The secretary had been interviewed again by Sterns and sent home. He’d gone off to complete his report. They sat on the couch.

“Tell me again why you’re here,” Sheila said. She watched Jake closely. “You know I have to ask you some questions.”

“Sure.” He smiled and nodded. “Just before five last night, Petrino called me, said he wanted to see me this morning. He said he was going on vacation. To the Bahamas, I think. I guess he wanted to see me again before he left.”

Sheila nodded. “He’s the psychologist everyone in the Department has to see after a shooting? And he did the profile on the prostitute killer.”

“Yes. I’d seen him twice about the drug shooting.”

“So it would stand to reason he wanted to see you again before he left.” Sheila seemed to muse about this to herself as much as to Jake.

“I guess so. I don’t know if there’s a certain number of times he had to talk to somebody before he certified them as fit for duty.”

“So there wasn’t any other reason for him to see you today?”

Jake paused. Should he tell her about Petrino getting the information he said he did? No – it was bad enough he had to see a shrink over the shooting. He didn’t want it to get out that the shrink ordered old records on him. People wouldn’t understand; they might think he had some dark secret in his past. And what if the things Frank Lee said had any truth to them? How would people handle it? How would he handle it? No, it was best for him to find that information Petrino got, then decide what to do with it.

“No,” he answered Sheila. “I can’t think of any special reason he wanted to see me.”

Satisfied, Sheila nodded. “Okay. Let’s go talk to Doc.” She patted his hand as she stood.

Jake followed her down the hall to Petrino’s office. Doc Watkins was writing information on his forms as they entered.

“Well, Doc, what’ve you found?” Sheila asked, stopping in front of him as he sat on the edge of the desk. Jake stepped up beside her.

“Interesting situation,” Doc replied, laying his clipboard on the desk. “Our victim must’ve known his killer. Whoever killed him came up from behind. There was no evidence of entry through these windows here.” He walked around behind the chair where Petrino’s body still sat. “They’re hermetically sealed. So he must’ve come in through the door. Got behind the victim somehow, grabbed a handful of hair, jerked the head back, exposed the throat, ripped it out.”

“How d’you know the perp grabbed his hair?” Jake asked.

“C’mere.” Doc Watkins motioned for them to join him by the corpse. He held back the front of Petrino’s hair. “See the tiny lacerations along the hairline? That suggests the head was yanked back by the hair. I think the perp was right-handed.” He pointed at the raw wound across Petrino’s throat. “See how this end of the wound seems wider than the other? I think that’s because the perp stuck him from this side, rammed the knife blade through, then ripped it out the front. The knife blade’s thicker toward the handle, leaving a wider cut. ‘Course I can’t be sure of that ‘til I get back to the lab and make some measurements.”

“I’d be willing to bet on you bein’ right, Doc,” Jake said.

Doc waved off the compliment. “Notice anything familiar about this murder, Jake?”

Studying the corpse, it took only seconds for him to see it. As he straightened up from the grisly sight, he met Doc eye to eye. “Same type of wound as the prostitutes.”

“Amazing powers of observation, wouldn’t you say, Det. Spencer?” Doc’s eyes danced in amusement at Jake’s expression.

“I’d say so,” Sheila agreed. Her own expression as she gazed at him filled Jake with a different emotion than amusement.

“You think the same guy did Petrino as did those whores?” This possibility and its ramifications prevented Jake from dwelling on Sheila’s expression, but he filed it away.

“Can’t tell you that.” Doc retrieved his clipboard, nodded to the paramedics, who began readying the body for its trip downtown. “I can only point out what I see. And what I see is a death wound remarkably similar to those in the prostitute murders.”

“So, if they’re the same,” Sheila said, “then that means Petrino …”

“… must’ve known the killer,” Jake finished for her.

The male Forensic Team member tapped Jake on the shoulder. “We’re done here. No prints anywhere. Maybe a couple of smudges, but nothing we can use. Won’t know about fibers and such ‘til we get to the lab.”

With a disgusted expression, Jake nodded. “What about blood?”

The female member of the team took over. “I’d guess 98% of it stayed right on the victim, his chair, the desk. Found a couple of spots over there on the carpet.” She gestured with her left hand. “Rest of it’s prob’ly on the perp. Couldn’t’ve cut this guy’s throat without getting at least some on him.”

Jake nodded again.

“Whoever did this knew what he was doing,” Sheila remarked.

“Yeah.” Jake glanced after the Forensics Team as they left. “We need to check out his patients. If Petrino knew his killer, it could’ve been one of them.”

“Maybe one from the group last night?”

“Yeah. Let’s start with them.” Jake walked past Sheila and down to the secretary’s desk. “Their names’re here in the appointment book. Should be a file somewhere with a list of addresses and phone numbers.”

Before he could call up any files on Petrino’s computer, Sheila laid a hand on Jake’s arm. “Should we get a court order for these files, Jake?”

He thought for five seconds. “Yeah – sometime. Right now, let’s pull ‘em up and see if any names ring a bell.”

After hitting the wrong key three times, Jake swore. Sheila pulled him out of the secretary’s chair. “I’ll do this. You go back to Petrino’s office and see if we missed anything.”

A huge sigh, and Jake stalked back to the doctor’s office. Once there, he pulled the door almost closed. Quickly, he searched through the files on Petrino’s desk, picked up the one with his name on it. Scanning the contents, he only found the doctor’s notes. No information from wherever Petrino wrote.

He tossed the file back onto the stack where he found it. Whatever the doctor had gotten must have come in a manila envelope. No such parcel lay anywhere on the desk or the shelves along the wall.

Maybe it was just a couple of pages. He couldn’t think of why it’d be much. Maybe it came in a plain envelope.

The stack of mail on the desk yielded nothing. Same for the drawers.

Where could it be? Petrino clearly said he had something. Jake snapped his fingers. The killer must’ve picked it up! But why? Unless he knew Jake. But why, again? To use something against him? Warneke wouldn’t … no reason. Unless he thought Jake was onto him. Knox? Naw – but why not?