The dawn was cold and lifeless, a suffocating blanket of cloud blocking out the sun. Climbing out of her car, Gabrielle Grey took in the dirty grey water as it swirled and eddied its way downstream. The Chicago River had been the making of the city, but today it looked tainted and tired, like blood starved of oxygen. Whether it was this or the chill of the spring dawn which made Gabrielle shiver, she couldn’t say.
Pulling her coat around her, she hurried over to the trailer. Previously the site had felt forlorn, but today it was a hive of activity. Police divers mingled with CSI operatives, while uniformed officers kept intrigued bystanders at bay. In the middle of it all, her nose heavily strapped, stood Detective Jane Miller.
‘I told you to take a couple of days off,’ Gabrielle said accusingly.
‘Doc says it’s just badly bruised and, besides … there was no way I was going to miss this.’
She gestured to the activity behind her.
‘Bartlett inside?’
‘Waiting for you,’ Miller replied, standing aside to let Gabrielle pass.
Smiling briefly at her, Gabrielle entered the trailer. The contrast to her last visit couldn’t have been more striking. Previously empty, the trailer was now well populated, powerful arc lights illuminating every corner. Emily Bartlett, swathed in her forensic suit, was standing by the corner drain, which had now been removed. As Gabrielle approached, she spotted one of Bartlett’s officers in the drain well and suddenly remembered why she had opted to join the Detective Bureau, rather than the forensic team.
‘Sorry to call you so early,’ Bartlett said brightly, spotting Gabrielle’s approach.
‘Two hours of sleep is plenty …’
‘But I thought you’d want to see this.’
She was clutching an evidence bag, which at first sight appeared to be empty.
‘We’ve been in the drain for almost four hours,’ Bartlett reported, handing Gabrielle the bag. ‘To be frank, it’s the cleanest drain I’ve ever seen, plus it empties straight into the river, so you couldn’t really get a better disposal site, especially as the bleach has had time to do its work.’
Gabrielle was taking in every word, but her eyes were now drawn to something tucked in the corner of the evidence bag. Something small and golden.
‘But there is a natural lip in the drain well, where the two halves of the pipe come together. They’ve warped slightly, creating an edge that things can get snagged on and that’s where we found this.’
Gabrielle held the bag a little closer and now she glimpsed what appeared to be one half of a gold cufflink. The chain linking the two ends seemed to have snapped, explaining the missing half.
‘Obviously, we haven’t run forensic tests yet, but look at the underside.’
Already Gabrielle had an inkling of what she might find there, but still her heart skipped a beat as she looked at the bottom of the fractured link and saw two monogrammed initials: ‘J.J.’
Gabrielle looked up at Bartlett, relief etched across her face. Finally, they had found their kill site. The place where Rochelle Stevens and Jacob Jones had spent their last, agonizing hours on earth.