Repay No Evil Chapter 2

“Did anyone touch the body?” Detective Christopher Bailey set foot onto the front lawn of Sarah Markus’ home. The grass obviously needed trimming, the trees obviously needed pruning. Shingles on the front of the house were in desperate need of paint. Detective Bailey counted no less then twenty cracks in the sidewalk as he made his way carefully to the front door.
“The officers claim no one has touched the scene. The ME is on his way. We’re waiting for you.” Isabelle’s heels clicked along the same pavement Bailey walked. Her black hair was pulled back in a pony tail as it always was. Somehow it managed to shine in the sun. Bailey couldn’t figure that out. What did women do to their hair anyway?
“Do you believe them?”
“I do, Bailey. Why do you always ask that?”
“Because if I don’t then I won’t know for sure if it’s true. And you never know when they’ve pulled a rookie cop to rope off my crime scene.” Bailey waved his arm around the neighborhood. “You see that? We already have a crowd and my tape isn’t back far enough.”
Isabelle rolled her eyes. “The tape is never far enough back for you. If you had it your way you’d rope off the entire neighborhood.”
“Keep away the onlookers.” Bailey flashed his badge to the officer guarding the door of the Markus home. Guarding wasn’t the right word. The man was just standing there glancing at badges. Bailey would bet the Easter Bunny could walk by this man unnoticed. But it didn’t matter. There was a second officer standing outside the perimeter tape keeping a record of everyone who entered and exited the crime scene. This officer was just a second measure. Suspects were often known to return to the scene of their crimes and who’s to say that one of them didn’t try to slip in through the front door. Bailey was a man of complete order. That and covering his ample backside. No defense attorney was going to be able to question his police work. Especially not on this case. If there was any chance that Solomon had struck again Bailey wasn’t going to leave one stone unturned, one hair out of place, one shred of doubt in a jury’s mind that they had their man. And they would have their man.
But when was the question.
Bailey slipped on a pair of paper booties over his black dress shoes and stepped through the doorway of the home. The inside was more kept then the outside with maple wood floors and area rugs everywhere. Like many homes in Northern Virginia there was a living room on Bailey’s left and a dining room on his right, each room contained its own area rug as did the hallway he was standing in. A carpeted stairway led upward in front of him. A second hallway led away from the foyer on his left and a third hallway was on his right. Bailey assumed one led to the kitchen and the other to a home office or small bathroom. Architecture in this area didn’t vary by much.
“Where was she found?” Bailey asked a small, balding Asian man as he entered into the foyer of the home. The Asian man wore a black vest with yellow stripes. When he turned Bailey could read the yellow words on the back, “Crime Scene Investigation”.
“She was found upstairs in the master bedroom same as the others.”
“Were you at any of the other crime scenes, CSI…?” Bailey did not know the man’s name so he couldn’t have been at a previous crime scene. Bailey would not forget a thing like that.
“CSI Phong, sir and no, I was not at the other scenes. I was transferred here a month ago.” The man’s heavy accent laced his words but Phong spoke perfect English and Bailey had found no immediate reason not to trust him.
“After you then.” Bailey motioned for Phong to lead them up the stairs and Phong scurried to obey.
“No one has touched anything since the medical examiner has yet to arrive, sir. This is just as we found her.”
“Who found her?” Bailey said as his feet hit the plush carpet that defined the master bedroom. The homeowners must have upgraded from the standard hallway carpet to the more padded master bedroom.
“I don’t know.” Beads of sweat formed on Phong’s brow. Bailey looked down on the small man who nervously pushed his eyeglasses closer to his face.
“Then how did we know there was a body in here to be found?”
“We got an anonymous call saying we could find the body here.” It was not Phong speaking. Bailey looked across the bedroom until his eyes landed on Captain Jackson Scranton. “Officers responded to the call and receiving no answer they entered the home.”
“They entered the home? Without a warrant?”
“It was possible that the woman was still alive and in need of rescue.” Jackson stared down Bailey almost daring him to answer.
Bailey was not intimidated. “No, it wasn’t. He makes sure his victims are dead before he leaves. There is no room for doubt. He called it in. He wanted us to find her. If your men messed with anything Captain…” Detective Bailey looked at the young woman laying on the bed. Her body was contorted while her eyes stared at the ceiling. They were open. He would not have shut them. Her arm hung over the side of the bed, blood stained her forearm and her hand. A pool of blood stained the otherwise perfect carpet. Sarah Markus was fully clothed but Bailey knew she had been redressed. Her killer took everything from her. Physically, emotionally, sexually. He left nothing out.
“My officers didn’t know that at the time. They entered the premises and as they were clearing the premises they came upon this. They called it in immediately, they touched nothing. They called me, I called you.” Jackson turned his steel blue eyes from Bailey to the corpse. “You think it’s him?”
“I just got here. I haven’t examined the body…”
“But do you think it’s him?”
“Probably.” Bailey stepped closer to the body watching his step as he went. Every inch of this room was potential evidence and Bailey was not about to ruin it. Bailey pulled latex gloves out of his back pocket and pointed towards the girl’s neck. “Here. The incision is deep but not deep enough to kill. Same pool of blood next to the body. I’d bet she bled out just like the others.” Bailey leaned in closer. Something glinted in the light. Small traces on the girl’s lips reflected the sun coming in through the master bedroom window from the other side of the room. Some sort of film.
Bailey stood and looked at Isabelle, “There’s film on her lips, same as the others.”
“What does that mean?” Jackson couldn’t help but insert himself in the investigation. The man was here for one reason only, the media, the publicity. News reporters were already camped on the front lawn. Darn journalists and their police scanners. But Bailey was sure Jackson didn’t mind. If Jackson could be commended for solving this case he could easily be selected to run for public office.
“We’re not sure. We’ve found it on the last three girls. The techs have identified it as wax paper but we don’t know what it means. Clearly he isn’t suffocating them.” Isabelle answered Jackson’s question.
“What about DNA?” Jackson asked.
Bailey stood and looked at Jackson again. “This isn’t like TV, Jackson, there was no DNA on the wax paper left behind on two of the victims that did not belong to the victim herself. On the third there was so little that the only information we could gather was that our perp is male but guess what? We already knew that.”
“Fine, I get it. What else do you know?”
Bailey glanced at Isabelle. He didn’t have time to brief another officer, even if he was a Captain, on an ongoing investigation. At this rate his superiors were considering bringing in the FBI. Bailey was working hard to keep them out of it. This didn’t need to go federal.
“Sir, why don’t we step outside and I’ll fill you in. Let’s give Detective Bailey some space to work.” Isabelle motioned for the door silently requesting the Captain to follow. Jackson followed Isabelle into the hallway. Despite his need for attention, Bailey was certain Captain Scranton wanted these murders solved as much as anyone else. No one in law enforcement wanted a serial killer on their doorstep.
Bailey turned his attention back to Sarah’s body. He had just moments before the medical examiner arrived. A few moments with Sarah before she was poked, prodded, examined and then carted away to a cold hole in a wall. It wasn’t the place for a beautiful girl to end up.
“How many more are you going to take Solomon?” The answer scared Bailey to his core. An avid believer he knew the Old Testament he knew who Solomon was. He knew how many wives and concubines the Biblical Solomon had. At the rate this Solomon, or the Beltway Killer as the media had dubbed him, was going he may very well catch up.
Bailey could not touch the body but he could search the scenes before he called the technicians into process it. Bailey scanned the room, nothing caught his eye. It had never been in the same place twice but it was never in plain view. Bailey squatted down next to the bed to scan the floor.
“Did you find it yet?” Bailey recognized Isabelle’s voice.
“No. Maybe when the ME gets here and he moves the body.”
“He’s here, are you ready for him to examine the body?”
“I need some photos of the Sarah and then he can roll her. The note could be under the body.” Bailey stood and looked down at Sarah. Why her? After three other victims they had yet to come up with a connection between them. Each one looked different, lived differently, two were married, two were not, only one had kids. What did he see?
“I found it.”
Bailey followed Isabelle’s voice to the master bedroom window. With a finger she pulled the curtain back. A piece of paper stuck to the window. From where he stood Bailey couldn’t read it but there was no mistaking Solomon’s blood red signature on the bottom of his note. “What does it say?”
“It’s another verse. Says it’s from Proverbs 12:4. ‘An excellent wife is the crown of her husband, but she who brings shame is like rottenness in his bones’….” Isabelle’s voice trailed off at the end of the verse.
“Anything else?”
“This time he added something…”
“Well, what is it?”
“He’s added, ‘This one’s for you Detective Bailey.’”