or someone in the museum she didn’t recognize. But of course with the Civil War reenactment coming up the place is going to be flooded with out-of-towners. In fact, she told me the museum has been pretty full the last few days.”
Laredo said, “Hey, you think maybe his mom or dad is involved in the porn industry?”
Pine said, “If so, you’d think they’d notice their kid missing. I’d circulate his picture all over. Somebody has to come forward.”
Laredo said, “First, a lonely spot on the main road, only a few blocks from here. Then the cemetery. Now this place.”
“What about Beth Clemmons?” interjected Blum.
“I don’t see her as part of the vic pattern,” said Pine. “She was a threat. That was why she was killed. She wasn’t dressed, or laid out. She was just murdered to keep her quiet.”
Laredo shook his head. “But we found out they acted in films together from another source. We didn’t need Clemmons for that.”
“Which logically means that Clemmons knew something else that was important.”
“Then she had to die,” said Blum. “As soon as Gillespie did. Because the killer would know that, sooner or later, we would come back to question her about it.”
“Exactly.”
Wallis said, “I’ll go see about getting the boy’s description circulated along with a sketch of his face.” He looked down. “We’ll have to use this image of him. We don’t have another.”
Laredo said, “And we can also have it put through our databases.”
“And the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children,” added Pine.
Wallis nodded and moved off.
Blum came to stand next to Pine, who said quietly, “The perp is moving off his original theme.”
“You mean first a veil and then a tux?”
“But he dressed the boy in a costume from this place, and—” Pine stopped, fixed her gaze on the body, and knelt down next to it.
One of the techs who was taking a photo said loudly, “Hey, I’m trying to get scale photos here, if you don’t mind.”
Pine gazed up at him with such a look that he quickly stepped back and started nervously fumbling with his camera.
“What is it?” asked Blum, squatting next to Pine as Laredo looked over Pine’s shoulder.
Pine had put on a pair of latex gloves and carefully undid the collar of the jacket on the body. She had just noticed the thin line of silver chain around the neck. She slid it out from under the clothing and held it up.
“It’s a St. Christopher’s medal,” observed Blum.
Pine nodded. “Yes it is.” She slid her finger around a part of the medal that had been damaged. “Look at this jagged edge. Something hit it hard enough to rip the metal.”
“Do we know cause of death on the boy?” asked Blum.
“No, but there are no obvious wounds. And no signs of strangulation. His neck has no ligature marks.”
“Poison, then?”
“I don’t know.” She studied the boy’s head. “But his neck is at an odd angle.”
“You think it’s been broken?” said Laredo.
“Could be.”
She called the photographer over and had him take a series of photos of the medal.
Wallis had rejoined them by this time. Pine pointed out the medal to him.
“You think it was part of the original costume here, or did it belong to the kid?” asked Wallis.
“Or did the perp put it on him?” said Pine.
Laredo said, “Lily reported that the uniform was taken from a mannequin on display. It was found in the back.”
“But I think she’ll confirm that this St. Christopher’s medal isn’t part of the costume.”
“Is that your gut?” said Wallis. “It could belong to the boy.”
“No,” said Laredo. “She’s going by the perp’s pattern. He dressed the two adults. And he dressed this one, whether he brought the clothes or not.”
Pine said, “But he added this. He didn’t add anything to the other two vics, at least that we could find, other than dressing them as bride and groom.”
“So he’s subtly changing his pattern,” noted Blum.
“It looks to be that way.”
“Serial murderers don’t usually do that midstream,” observed Laredo. “You know that.”
Pine nodded. “Most don’t. But some do. And keep in mind that we don’t really know what his pattern or motive is. It may still be evolving. So we could look at this death and this crime scene and say the guy’s changed his MO, but, to him, he’s right on schedule.”
Wallis said, “I can see why you used to do this for a living. You seem to be able to get inside their heads.” His face twitched. “Better you than me.”
“It’s