Ten detectives, seven officers, and two commanders took seats in our bull pen wherever they could find a spot.
Lutz led the meeting for the second time that evening. Abrams sat in to gather information for the patrol units that had offered to lend a hand by putting in extra hours.
“Okay, everyone,” Lutz said, “in the last few minutes, it has come to our attention that the blood smears Forensics tested from the Bixler Park bench happen to belong to a female.” He raised his hands when the muttering began. “Let me finish, and then we’ll open the room to discussion and suggestions. It’s already been confirmed that the blood is fresh and hasn’t been on that bench any longer than the victim’s blood. So, we have several scenarios if, and only if, the people with the wagon are our suspects.” He scratched the top of his balding head and looked from left to right. “Who’s taking notes?”
A half dozen people scrambled to pull pens and paper from their desk drawers.
“That’s better. Okay, here’s how it is. We’ve either got two women or a man and a woman involved in these murders. I’m leaning toward it being a male-and-female team. The man would have the brute strength to heave dead weight around, and the woman could be the one organizing the abductions and murders. The wagon would come in handy if the man wasn’t particularly strong enough to carry that dead weight long distances.”
Abrams took his turn. “My patrol units will monitor the park systems twenty-four seven, and the recent murders are leading us toward thinking the killers are only active at night.”
I piped in. “They’re cloaked from head to toe in dark clothing according to the witness. Going under the cover of darkness with very little moonlight, committing the crimes in remote parks, and doing it when most people are fast asleep is the perfect way to go unseen and literally get away with murder.”
“Agreed,” Lutz said. He twisted the cap off one of the five water bottles that always sat as extras on my desk. “So now, who specifically is their target, and why do they want to kill them?” He stood, rolled his neck, then cracked it. “Take a five-minute break, and when we resume this discussion, we’re going to put together a profile. It’s time to alert the public that the deceased man in Bixler Park was actually murdered, and the second man found in Washington Park met with foul play too. The citizens of Chicago need to know that it might be the same killer in both cases.”
“I’ll have units stationed at all the parks in the Second District, and they’ll cover them from ten p.m. to six a.m. every day until the perp is caught,” Abrams said.
Lutz shook Abrams’s hand. “Okay, take that break, guys, and then we’re putting together a profile when everyone is back in their seats. I need something to give the press in the morning.”
I was joined by Henry, Frank, Kip, Tony, and Shawn at the coffee machine.
“Who would have thought a woman could be involved?” Kip quietly whistled. “Aren’t women supposed to be obedient, nurturing, and motherly?”
I chuckled. “Maybe in the eighteenth century. Say that too many times in front of the wrong woman and you might find yourself on a park bench minus ten fingertips and a bunch of teeth too.”
He grimaced while double-checking his surroundings. “Good thing there aren’t any ladies present.”
Frank’s eyes widened. “I just thought of something.”
I gave him my attention. “Yeah? We can use some enlightenment.”
“It’s something I’ll have to run by Don to see if it’s even possible, but what if—likely under a microscope—he could tell if the cuts were the same between victim one and two? Whatever was used to remove the fingertips cut through joints and possibly bone. There could be some kind of similarity, almost like striation marks, if the same tool was used in both homicides.”
“Great idea, partner. Bring it up when we get back to the bull pen.” I rubbed my forehead as I thought. “I’m trying to remember the names of the man-and-woman team that crisscrossed the country about ten years back and killed people just for fun.”
“Look online,” Henry said. “I bet you’ll find it.”
I glanced at the wall clock. “Let’s head back and put our thinking caps on. We need to come up with a logical profile for the press.”
Returning to our seats, Lutz suggested we brainstorm profile suggestions and reasons for the murders and go from there.
Frank began. “This isn’t a profile idea, but it’s a possible way to confirm both murders were done by the same perp.”
“Sure,” Lutz said. “I’m listening.”
“If the same tool—whether it be a knife, snippers, shears, a hatchet, or whatever—was used to cut through the fingers of both vics, wouldn’t there be similar markings on the edge of the bone that was cut?”
Lutz rubbed his chin. “Good question. I don’t know if the finger bones are large enough to see a repetitive pattern, though, like a serrated knife or a hatchet with a nick in it. Give me a second.” He picked up the receiver from the phone base on my desk. “Keep running ideas by each other while I see if Don is still here.”
He gave us a nod that Don had answered while we continued talking among ourselves. After a few minutes of back-and-forth between them, Lutz hung up and rubbed his brow. “Okay, Don doesn’t know if he’ll see any similarities, but he’s going to check it out. He’ll let us know his findings in the morning. So ideas, opinions, suggestions?”
“I understand the male-female perp idea, but unless they’re just cold-blooded killers who are choosing random older men simply because they can overpower them, what the hell would be the motive? The only thing I can think of other than joy killing would be if the female was fooling around, the man found out, and he made her help kill the guy she was messing with as a warning to her. That seems pretty complicated to me, though,” I said.
Henry added his two cents. “What about the hate crime angle we talked about? That politician in California publicly announced his engagement to another guy and was killed shortly after that. Maybe the perps are on the rampage and working together to kill every gay man they can track down.”
Lutz frowned. “I’m not sure. We can hit up a few gay bars with the facial photo of the first vic to see if anyone recognizes him, but it’s taking away from actually tracking down the killers.”
Kip suggested checking the database for people arrested for hate crimes. It could be a faster process.
“We’ll look into that. What about the two-women theory?”
“That also could be a type of hate crime,” Shawn said. “Scorned lover or abused wife, maybe even several ladies working together, because killing and transporting men is tough work for one woman.”
“Right, and not a bad idea, but we can’t give the press a bunch of theories to choose from. Why change MOs?”
“Mixing it up,” I said. “Possibly to throw us off their track and make us think two different killers are committing the crimes.”
“I’m almost certain the perps are the same,” Lutz said. “Nobody was told about the fingertips being cut off, yet in both cases, they were. There’s some kind of connection between the victims and the killers, and the perps don’t want the murders to lead back to them.” The commander let out a frustrated-sounding groan. “Guess we need to hold off with the profile until we have more.” He turned to Abrams. “I need your guys to view those surveillance tapes around Washington Park right away. They should document every vehicle that passed those cameras and entered the park last night after midnight. Once we have that list is when we’re going to need your help the most since we have fifty-some cameras around Bixler Park to go through.”
“Whatever you need, Bob, and I know my guys are reviewing that footage as we speak.”
Lutz rose from my guest chair. “Day shift guys, go home. You’ll have plenty to keep you busy tomorrow, and I don’t want anybody falling asleep while they’re reviewing those fifty surveillance videos. For now, the night crew can contact the building managers and make sure the cameras are actively filming whatever it is they’re pointing at and that none of them are taping over themselves.”
Abrams rose too. “I’ll have that list of vehicles ready for you first thing in the morning.”
“Appreciate it, Mark.” Lutz pointed at the door. “Go on, first shifters. Head home and get some rest.”