Cole walked into the Martin kitchen just over an hour and a half later. The Oshkosh EMS squad and the local police made it to the house within twenty minutes of the shooting. There wasn’t much the paramedics could do, but the police started making all the necessary calls. Cole was one of the first on their list. When he got a call at ten p.m. or later like this, given his social life, it was never good news. He picked up Detective Igou at a North Side park and ride and they made the eighty-five-mile drive north up I-41 to the doctor’s home on the banks of Lake Winnebago in an hour.
Cole stopped and looked around the kitchen. Blood covered nearly a third of the hand-painted ceramic tiled floor. The doctor had fallen to his knees and then slumped against the bottom of the island, his face pressed against the thirty-bottle wine cooler. It looked uncomfortable , but Cole guessed the doctor didn’t care at this point.
He was told the doctor’s wife and three children were in the house at the time of the shooting and that they’d all been taken to St. Elizabeth’s Hospital in Appleton. They were being treated for shock. Cole was grateful he didn’t have to face the family.
Ty came in the back door and motioned for Cole, who stepped carefully around the body and the blood and walked over to hear what his friend had to say.
“This guy definitely wants to get caught,” he said. Ty’s voice was almost a whisper, but Cole saw the excitement in his eyes. “He not only dropped another rifle, he left a pile of cigarette butts, which means plenty of DNA. They’re on the way to the state crime lab in Madtown. We’re also running the serial number of the gun, so we’ll track down the last guy who bought it. It’s another 30/30 and looks like it could be a twin of the first murder weapon.”
“Any sign of blood or a crucifix?”
Ty nodded. “They found plenty of blood sprayed in the snow by the shooter’s nest. No crucifix yet, but there’s a lot of snow cover. I told the crime scene guys to be on the lookout for one. And to keep quiet, too. I’d bet anything they’ll find another crucifix. It’s like part of his signature.”
“Well, then, our boy’s consistent at least.”
“Why do you think the guy leaves his gun behind at the scene? I don’t get it. It’s not something you see all the time.”
“He does it because he’s smart,” Cole said. “After he shot Smith he had to walk down a couple flights of stairs in a building in the middle of a fair-sized city during daylight hours. If someone heard a shot and saw a guy carrying a long object, they might get suspicious. Maybe he gets confronted, or maybe someone gets a reasonably good description they can pass on to us. Either way, the killer loses.
“If he’s pulled over a couple blocks from the scene, or his house is searched later, the last thing he wants someone to find is the murder weapon. If they don’t, he’s clean. The same thing with this murder,” he continued. “Here he had a quarter-mile hike back to the road and a drive to who knows where. Same story. Why risk getting caught in possession of a murder weapon that you can buy at a gun show for two hundred and fifty bucks, give or take a couple twenties?”
“What do you make of the cigarette butts?”
Cole shook his head. “I know I’m tired, but it makes no sense to me,” he said. “Why leave a pile of butts here, DNA all over, when the killer didn’t leave any butts behind when he shot Smith in Milwaukee? From the reports we got from that scene, it seems like he had to wait a while before taking that shot, too. So why no butts there?”
Ty leaned in closer. “Does this mean we have multiple killers? A smoker and a non-smoker? And what if there are more…a group of pro-life deer hunters who decide to take a stand against abortion and take the law into their own hands?”
“We can’t discount that we could have multiple shooters on our hands, especially now, especially after this. But that doesn’t fit for me. I can almost see the shooter in my head now and my gut tells me he killed both Smith and Martin. Not scientific, I know. And I can’t explain the cigarette butts. Like I said, I don’t get it.”
Cole shook his head again and cursed under his breath. Then he looked directly at Ty and nodded. “But we will get it. You can bet your ass we’ll get it.”