part0017

Hopkins snatched the phone’s handset on the first ring. Having crashed hard the night before, the chunk of uninterrupted sleep made him feel like he had acquired superhuman reflexes. Compared to last night, his mind was firing on all cylinders.

“An investigator from the M.E.’s office is here for you,” the front desk officer said.

“Great. Send him down.” Hopkins hung up the phone and stepped out of his office to greet the visitor.

Emmanuel Lawson, a sleek and slender man with a shiny bald head and smooth, dark skin, floated down the hallway. As usual, a huge smile dominated his face. There were few people Hopkins knew that were as charismatic, even from a distance.

Originally from Togo, West Africa, Lawson had served twenty years with the Providence Police Department before retiring and taking a job with the Medical Examiner’s office.

After leaving to take the position as Chief, Hopkins concluded Lawson had chosen the better path. Dead people would have been so much easier to manage than live ones.

“Manny,” Hopkins said, “Good to see you. Come in.”

“Look at you. Chief.”

The two embraced and moved into the office. Hopkins sat behind his desk and Lawson took a seat in one of the two chairs positioned on the opposite side.

“How’s Jess? The kids?” Hopkins asked.

“Everyone’s great,” Lawson said. “Justine just finished her first year at Brown.”

“That’s fantastic.”

“How about you? How’ve you been?” Lawson asked.

“Livin’ the dream,” Hopkins said.

“Yeah, I bet. Heard you’ve been getting your share of press lately. No wonder so many people are lined up outside to get your autograph.”

“Don’t believe the hype.” Hopkins laughed. “To what do I owe the visit?”

“I was going to give you a call,” Lawson said, “but I figured I’d take the opportunity to stop in.”

“Glad ya did, it’s been too long. I assume this means you’ve got new info.”

“I wouldn’t say that. More questions than answers, really. You know we’ve identified her, right?”

“I do,” Hopkins said. “Misty Brighton. I’ve got my guy sitting in with North Kingstown while they interview her parents. At this point, we’re just trying to determine if she was in Jamestown at any time before she was killed. Those guys are already trying to run with it like it’s their case.”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d say you were trying to find a reason to keep it.” Lawson smiled. “If North Kingstown wants the case, let them have it. If you’ve learned anything from working in the ol’ Renaissance City, it should’ve been that.”

Hopkins chuckled. “You’re right. It’s just…” He lifted his hand to his face and rubbed his brow with his thumb and middle finger. “I’ve got two girls missing, and it doesn’t add up. Something’s not right, Manny. Do you remember in Providence when that nurse left on her lunch break and didn’t come back? I think you were still there.”

“Yeah, Roger Williams Hospital, right? What about it?” Lawson asked.

“At the same time the hospital reported her missing, someone found her boyfriend hanging from the second-floor porch at his apartment. When we made the connection, we knew she was dead. We hadn’t found her body yet, but I think we all had this awful feeling that there was a gruesome crime scene somewhere, just waiting for us to stumble on it. That’s the feeling I have now.”

“If I recall, we found the nurse a day later with a bag full of oxycodone that she stole from the hospital. She was high as a kite, but she was alive.”

“Fine, maybe that’s a bad example,” Hopkins said. “The point is, I can’t let this go. Not yet. I’ve got everyone I have on the missing person cases and still, nothing.”

Lawson shook his head. “I will say that if these cases are related—and I’m not saying they are—but if they are, I wouldn’t want to be one of these two missing girls. Whoever killed Misty Brighton was one sick bastard.”

Lawson unzipped a black leather padfolio, removed a packet of paper, and slid it to Hopkins.

“Stabbed seventeen times,” Lawson said. “Three-and-a-half-inch blade. Possibly a folding knife.”

“Whoever did her was angry, that’s for sure.” Hopkins opened the packet and skimmed through the pages.

“That’s not the half of it,” Lawson said. “The presence of semen was discovered in her vagina and rectum. And there was heavy damage to the vaginal walls, caused by some foreign instrument. The poor girl was repeatedly and brutally raped before she was killed.”

“But that’s not the sickest part. The fingers of her right hand were also severed.”

“That was apparent,” Hopkins said, “but that part probably isn’t related. We’re still waiting to hear from the parents about whether or not she had undergone surgery before her disappearance. Her hand was bandaged when we found her. I doubt the killer would have taken the time to patch her up before dumping her.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Lawson said. “This was no surgery. The fingers were removed with a rusty hand saw. Like the kind you’d have hanging in your garage.”

“How could you know that?” Hopkins asked.

“We recovered one of the teeth from the saw blade that broke off and embedded itself in the remaining bone at the base of the pinky finger. It was heavily oxidized and extremely dull. Based on the size and shape of the fragment, and the mangled condition of the surrounding flesh, we believe it to be consistent with a hand saw.”

“But the bandage?” Hopkins visualized the tightly wrapped appendage. It had been bandaged so well that it remained in place even after being submerged in the water for hours, possibly even days. The thought reminded him he hadn’t asked the obvious question. “Do you have a time of death?”

“Our best guess, about twelve hours before you found her.”

“Twelve hours. That puts—”

“Knock, knock,” Charlie Fuller said from just outside the office. “I’m sorry, don’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine, Charlie, come in,” Hopkins said. “This is an old friend, Emmanuel Lawson. He’s with the ME’s office.”

“Good to meet ya.” Fuller took a seat in the empty chair next to Lawson.

“How did it go? How’s the family doing?” Hopkins cringed at the absurdity of his own question. They had just learned that their daughter was sadistically tortured and murdered. It was safe to assume they’d been better.

“Not good.” Fuller said. “Ended up having to call an ambulance for the mother. She vomited and passed out. Now she’s on suicide watch at Newport Hospital.”

“Were you able to get a statement?” Hopkins said.

“Yes. The husband was pretty helpful. He answered questions for a while. North Kingstown took the statement. A Detective Knapp. She said she’d email it to us when she got back to the office.”

“Did he say anything about Misty being in Jamestown the day she disappeared?” Hopkins asked.

“No. Apparently, she went to the beach in Narragansett with a group of friends. Knapp said she already spoke to the friends after Misty went missing. It sounds like they went down in a few cars but didn’t leave at the same time. When the friend who drove Misty couldn’t find her, she assumed Misty jumped in with another friend. It wasn’t until later they realized she hadn’t come back with them. I’m guessing she was dumped right there in Narragansett.”

“Maybe,” Hopkins said, “but doesn’t it seem unlikely that she’d end up in the bay?”

“I’d say that seals it, Tom,” Lawson said. “If she was never in Jamestown, it’s off your plate.”

“I didn’t say that,” Fuller said. “I mean, I didn’t say she was never in Jamestown. In fact, she came often. She was seeing a psychologist here. Walton is his name. He has an office on Southwest Ave and, according to the father, one in Newport as well. What are the chances, right? Can’t be a coincidence.”

“What?” Hopkins said. “That she was seeing a psychologist on the island? She clearly wasn’t seeing him that day if she was going to the beach with her friends.”

“No, not that.” Fuller said. “Did you read Zoe’s parents’ statement? Zoe was seeing the same doctor. Doctor Walton. It’s what we were looking for, right? A connection?”

It was exactly what they were looking for. Something. Anything to dig their teeth into. But this was more than a breadcrumb. This was big.

“I could kiss you right now,” Hopkins said, prompting Fuller to flash a proud smile. “Tell me Lucy was seeing him too.”

“That I don’t know,” Fuller said. “It didn’t come up. But I can find out.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hopkins said. “I’ll speak with Lucy’s family. I want you to take a couple of guys and bring me Walton. You might have just broken this thing wide open.”

Fuller stood up. “On it.” He left the room.

“Good kid,” Hopkins said.

“Seems like it,” Lawson agreed. “Wanna grab some lunch before I head back? Catch up a bit?”

“Maybe next time.” Hopkins gathered the paperwork and shoved it into a manila folder. He stood up and tapped the spine of the folder on the desk. “Right now, I’ve got a murder to solve.”