Chapter Forty-Seven

“Murphy, tell me something good. Where are you at with those cases?” Fuller asked from behind his desk, his suit and tie disheveled and the bags under his eyes a deep shade of purple. “They’re riding my ass. I can’t buy us any more time. The mayor and the media want answers. We need to give them something. Anything.”

“The rosary from the second victim showed DNA from both the first and second victim, confirming our theory that several rosaries are used, but only one left behind. But the killer’s DNA isn’t on there and we couldn’t lift any fingerprints due to the small size of the thread.”

“What else?” Fuller asked.

“The profiler we met with on Monday came back with new information,” Murphy said.

“Shoot,” Fuller ordered as he leaned back into his chair and waited for the information.

Murphy retrieved her notepad and referred to it as she replied. “He thinks we’re dealing with a person who’s suffered a very deep wound that altered their moral compass. Someone for whom religion is very important but someone who kept disappointing their parents or someone who never received the love they wanted from them, so they developed a strong intolerance toward certain behavior. Mostly behavior that would go against the Church’s preaching. Possibly to match the behavior the killer himself received or witnessed.”

“The killer is hyper religious and intolerant toward what exactly?” Fuller asked.

“Witness statements and the medical examiner’s reports confirm that both victims had sexual intercourse before their death,” Murphy said.

Fuller frowned. “You’re saying he’s intolerant about people having sex?”

Murphy put her notepad away. “Outside-of-marriage sex or inappropriate sex in general, whatever that definition would be, according to his beliefs. We just heard that the second vic was having an affair with a married man.”

“Married man?” Fuller repeated. “Could the wife have found out? Or could the married man be our killer for both victims?”

Rosebud interjected. “All we had was a first initial and a relation with the victim’s dad, but Wang worked her magic, and it paid off. We identified him: Alex Redford, a wealthy businessman who dabbles in politics. His alibi—and that of his wife—were solid. They both attended a live TV program when Jessica was killed. The man even offered to show us his bank account statements if we agreed to keep his affair away from his wife and the media.”

“And?” Fuller asked. “No signs that he would have paid someone off to get rid of the mistress?”

“Absolutely none,” Murphy said. “And we couldn’t find any evidence that he or his wife would have known Lori Davis.”

“Okay. Go back to the profiler,” Fuller ordered. “Did he state anything in terms of physical description? Gender? Something tangible, please.”

Murphy shook her head. “We still can’t narrow it down. Either the killer knew the victims or impersonated a trustworthy figure to gain access to their households. The fact that the victims were drugged first removes the necessity for the person to be physically strong to strangle them. We still think the killer has to be able to lift a body from point A to point B, but the lack of rape almost prevents us from knowing for sure if it’s a man we’re dealing with. And the combined use of drugs with strangulation indicates this person doesn’t seek power over the victims. That’s not typical. But the killer is obviously very thorough and careful about not leaving any DNA behind.”

“But if we stick to statistical probability, it’s more than likely a man,” Rosebud added.

“Yeah, yeah,” Fuller said, wiping the side of his nose with his hand. “White male, Caucasian, charismatic, good-looking… We’ve all read those studies, but who are your best leads or suspects?”

“David Dempsey’s story checks out,” Murphy said. “He had no plausible motive to kill his girlfriend. No financial gain. No jealousy. They had a fight, sure, but he passively waited for her to contact him again. Victim’s friends all confirm he’s a pushover. Plus, he had alibis for both murders.”

“And?” Fuller prompted.

“The father was at work. Phone records back up his story for the broken lock being reported to the landlord. He’s not a suspect.”

Fuller exhaled loudly as he let those facts sink in. “Rosebud. Talk to me. Anything else?”

“Amanda McCutcheon,” Rosebud said. “First vic’s BFF. They had a fight the night after she had sex with the boyfriend.”

“Lover’s triangle?” Fuller asked.

“Chastity club feud. But lover’s triangle is not out of the question. Wang thinks there’s something brewing between the first vic’s boyfriend and her BFF.”

Fuller leaned forward on his desk. “Does she look strong enough to lift a person?”

Murphy tilted her head to the side. “Possibly.”

“Alibis for both murders?”

“We checked. It’s weak, but Netflix confirmed she was watching movies and pressed the button to continue streaming every hour or so on Sunday afternoon and evening.”

“Someone else could have pressed that button,” Fuller stated. “Where was she during the second murder?”

“Same. Netflix binging. No parents, siblings, or roommates living with her.”

“What do you think, Rosebud?” Fuller asked while stroking his salt-and-pepper mustache.

“Our search warrant led us nowhere. We don’t have enough to arrest her.”

“Did she know the second victim?” Fuller asked.

Murphy spoke up. “We asked, and Chainey looked into it. He couldn’t find any links.”

“Doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”

“We still don’t have a real motive, though. Lover’s triangle wouldn’t explain the second murder.”

“The district commander wants to see something. We’ll get eyes on her twenty-four seven. I’ll approve the extra manpower.”

“There’s more, though,” Murphy said.

Fuller leaned back in his chair again. “Speak!”

“Father Matthews. He’s a new priest in town. Young, bright, forward-thinking, handsome, charismatic. Through confessions, he may have had knowledge of what was going on and targeted his victims based on the sins that triggered him. A priest could match what the profiler described. It would make him a trustworthy figure. Someone with easy access to someone’s home.”

“Alibi?”

“We haven’t officially questioned him yet. I attended part of his mass this past Sunday, then met up with him afterwards. He looked truly sorry for what happened to the first vic. I asked where he was after mass on June 3rd and on June 4th. He answered he was either surrounded by parishioners in church, alone in the sacristy of the cathedral, or at home. No witnesses. I know for a fact he was working Sunday morning, but he could have headed to the second vic’s house after I finished talking to him. I’ll get him to come down here to get an interview on the record.”

Fuller played with the end of his bushy mustache. “Catholic priest?”

Murphy nodded.

“They’ll never share their confessions with us, so…” He rocked back and forth in his chair and began tapping the desk with a pen.

“Don’t priests have to pass some sort of psychological exam? I don’t think he’s our guy,” Rosebud chimed in.

“That’s your Catholic side speaking,” Murphy said. “Just think like a cop—”

“Fuck you, Murphy!”

Kate winced then swallowed hard, realizing her mistake. “Rosebud, you know, I didn’t mean it that way—”

“Enough!” Fuller barked. “We’re all tired. You’re sorry. He’s sorry. Moving on.”

Rosebud shook his head and swatted Kate’s excuse with his hand. “I know,” Rosebud said. “But Father Matthews has been helping the community, raising funds, helping the poorest families—”

“And listening to confessions and collecting names and addresses, which he could then use to find his—”

Fuller slapped his desk. “I’ve heard enough! I don’t care if he’s a priest. His profession doesn’t put him above our laws. We’ll surveil them both. Let’s hope the killer is one of them so we can stop the next murder before it happens. And one more thing.”

“What’s that?” Murphy asked, her tired face giving away her cards. Being the lead was taxing her. Just like it did every one of his detectives. The system and the evil in the world—in Boston—had begun to break her, just like it had the rest of them.

“This case began nearly a month ago. I’ve seen you guys in the office around the clock. This can’t go on. As of today, I’m implementing a forced rotation. Murphy, I need you here during the day. One other detective will be working days with you. The other two will split the other sixteen hours, one eight-hour shift each, catching up on office work and interviewing people in the early evening if needed. That means Rosebud, Chainey, and Wang will rotate until we finally catch the killer. But that won’t happen if you guys don’t go home, clear your heads, and rest between shifts.”

Murphy and Rosebud looked at each other but stayed put.

“Now get out of my office!”