‘Got anything planned this evening?’ Erin kept her voice casual as she removed her face mask.
Jenny was finishing the hose-down of an autopsy table, whistling a tune from West Side Story. A young driver, five double vodkas under his belt, had lost control of his pickup, hit a crash barrier and gone through the windshield into a tree. His nineteen-year-old pregnant girlfriend had died in the truck. Even a seatbelt won’t protect you from an eighty-miles-per-hour crash. Two senseless deaths and Erin was dog-tired after telephoning the results through to the police department. She had a meeting with the dead girl’s family scheduled for the next morning.
‘Just going to chill.’ Jenny kept her eyes on the water swooshing down the drain at the bottom of the metal table. She was wearing black jeans and a T-shirt printed with the words ‘black is my happy colour’. Other than a row of rings down one ear, her piercings were invisible today. Jenny had recently begun to dial down the goth look at work. Perhaps some of Erin’s reservations had got back to her.
‘Fancy a quick drink?’ Erin saw, out of the corner of her eye, Jenny lift her head in surprise.
‘I… I guess so. Is anything the matter?’ Jenny turned off the washer and stared at her. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong, have I?’
‘Of course not. I just wanted to ask you something about one of our victims. It won’t take long.’
‘Which case?’
‘Tiffany Stoker, found at Silent Brook. Ethan said you were a pagan and I have a couple of questions about your beliefs.’ Erin could feel herself reddening. ‘It’s completely off the wall and I’m a little embarrassed to ask, so feel free to say no.’
‘Off the wall is fine by me.’
Jenny took her to a basement bar, with the word ‘Havoc’ over the door. Despite its name, the music was muted inside and, except for a couple making out in the corner, they were the only patrons. Erin ordered two bottles of Grasshopper at the bar and took them over to a booth at the back of the room where Jenny was settling herself in.
‘Cheers.’ They clinked bottles and took a long swig. Jenny must also be tired, but perhaps curiosity as well as a sense of obligation had encouraged her to accept Erin’s invitation. Their usual discussions in the autopsy room were about work first, occasionally Jericho gossip. It was telling that it was shy Ethan who’d got to know about Jenny’s belief system, not her.
Erin took another swig of beer and got to the point. ‘I’ve a new mentee at the university, a Professor Carla James. Have I mentioned her?’
Jenny shook her head.
‘She’s an interesting personality and I’m quite taken with her, probably because she doesn’t really need mentoring at all. She’s an archaeologist with an interest in people, which is a new one to me. Don’t laugh, I mean she likes to know what makes people tick. She’s made a name for herself by focusing on the emotions involved in the sites she’s excavated. I get the impression she likes to do her own thing.’
‘Cool. You like her?’
‘I do, although I think she’s a little lost. She was widowed a few years ago and I get the impression she’s come to Jericho for a new start – or at least that’s the idea. But like most drastic moves, I think she’s probably realising losing your existing network of friends and colleagues comes at a price.’
‘You know what my stepmom always says about Jericho,’ said Jenny. ‘People who move here either stay a few months or they never leave.’
Erin had heard the saying before and it applied to her. She’d come to the town as a student and twenty years later, she was still here. ‘I’ve got a feeling Carla wouldn’t know where to go even if she did decide to move on. Home in England has a lot of bittersweet memories for her. Anyway, the reason I mention her is that she was called by Viv Kantz to the killing of the woman found at Silent Brook. She’s come up with this theory though about the objects found around the woman. Know what a witch bottle is?’
‘Of course I do. They’re pretty neat. Why’d you ask?’
‘Carla thinks that some of the items distributed around the body could be a sort of deconstructed witch bottle. The coins, the hair and so on which are usually found inside the glass have been placed in the open air. I’d never even heard of these bottles until she explained them to me.’
Jenny considered. ‘It’s a possibility that someone might have updated the items to the twenty-first century. Syringes instead of needles; it’s kinda neat. Does it help find her killer though?’
‘I don’t know, but Carla thinks she might have found a pattern with at least one other victim.’
‘You’re kidding.’ Jenny’s eyes widened. ‘One of our unsolved killings?’
‘Yes, thank God. I guess you’ll know what a daisy wheel is too?’
‘Yup. The six-petalled flower enclosed in a circle. An apotropaic mark. I went looking for them with a couple of friends one summer. There are plenty of examples around here. We found them at the top of staircases, on attic beams, scratched into floorboards.’
Erin stared at her. ‘People just let you into their homes?’
Jenny snorted. ‘Homeowners are proud of them. They may go to church on a Sunday, but they’re happy to have a hex sign protecting the family from evil spirits inside their home. Which victim are we talking about?’
‘Do you remember the killing of Stella King?’
‘I remember. I think she was strangled and her body found in a car park.’
‘The Franklin Mall, yes. Ever been there?’
Jenny gave her a look. ‘I’m not a mall kind of girl, Erin.’
‘It’s designed in the pattern of a daisy wheel.’
Jenny, who had been about to take another swig of beer, pulled the bottle from her lips. ‘No way.’
‘According to Carla, it’s designed as a daisy wheel and she’s wondering if there’s any connection with the burnt woman.’
‘The Franklin Mall is a hexafoil? You wait till my pals hear this. We’ll take a look this weekend.’
Erin gripped the girl’s arm. She was whippet thin but strong. ‘Look, can you keep it quiet for the moment? Don’t even mention it to your friends. Carla’s got the bit between her teeth and, if she’s right, we might be looking at someone who has killed more than once.’
‘A serial?’
‘It’s possible, isn’t it? They happen in other towns, so why not ours? I need a bit more info though to see if I can help Carla. Ethan tells me you’re a pagan, not a witch. What’s the difference?’
‘Well…’ Jenny paused. ‘This is strictly out of work, right? Nothing I do impacts on what happens in the medical examiner’s facility?’
‘Of course.’
‘Well, paganism is used by some as a catch-all phrase to basically mean non-Christian. They’d include witches, practitioners of Wicca, Norse pagans, devil worshipers, that sort of thing. For me, paganism is the worship of nature and the earth. I’m not interested in anything weird.’
‘Do people still practise witchcraft now?’
Jenny shrugged. ‘I guess so. In fact, I’m pretty sure they do, but if you’re thinking about a killer, it’s not the witch community you want to be looking at. You’re seeking someone who fears them. That was the whole point of witch bottles and daisy wheels. They were to ward off misfortune they believed witches could put on a house and its occupants.’
‘Fear of women’s powers perhaps. I’m wondering if there’s a link to Salem and the trials.’
‘Could be. Don’t forget though that there was no evidence of witchcraft practice. Those women – and men by the way – were transgressive in the eyes of the patriarchy and persecuted accordingly.’
‘I appreciate the women were likely innocent, but I thought there was perhaps a practice or set of beliefs they were accused of.’
‘The belief in sorcery and unnatural practices can be traced back to Greek culture – a curse tablet, for example, was placed near the dead, asking them to work magic for those still living. The idea of witches wasn’t invented by the Christian church.’
‘But we assume the persecutors believed the women were guilty?’
Jenny shrugged. ‘Why not?’
‘So why might a killer adopt these old symbols of witchcraft protection?’
‘Interest in ancient beliefs, hatred of women, campaign against deviancy, religious extremism. That’s just for starters.’
Erin sat back and let out a long puff. ‘We’re looking for a killer who hates women? I get misogynists’ victims on my autopsy table with depressing regularity, domestic violence being a particular favourite in the private lives of our esteemed residents. Why the hell would our killer play around with these bloody symbols? I think Carla’s got a nice theory, but she’s going to have to come up with a lot more than this. I appreciate your help though.’
Jenny raised her bottle. ‘My pleasure.’