Thicker than Blood - Mike Omer Page 0,69

to collect his thoughts. “Henrietta Fishburne was a paralegal working in a large law firm located in the Chicago Loop. She lived with her husband and daughter in Riverdale—that’s a neighborhood in South Chicago. She was a dedicated employee, worked hard.”

“Was it customary for her to leave so late at night?” Tatum asked.

Koch shrugged. “According to her husband, in the past three weeks, Henrietta always worked late, but she usually left the office by eight in the evening. However, Monday night she was asked to stay with one of the firm’s lawyers, working on an important case. So she left at half past midnight. Which meant she was on the train that stopped at 147th Street at one thirty-five in the morning.”

“Did anyone know she was going to stay late? Did she tell someone?”

“Some coworkers and her husband.”

Tatum nodded, satisfied, and sat down next to Zoe. “Fishburne didn’t usually leave the office so late,” he said. “It was a one-time thing.”

Zoe raised her eyes from the photos on the table. “So even if the killers had followed her around or had watched the parking lot for a few nights, they couldn’t have expected her to leave work so late.”

“The attack was probably random. The killers had been waiting in the parking lot for someone, anyone who fit, to show up when there were no nearby witnesses. Henrietta Fishburne just happened to fit the bill.”

“That matches Glover’s usual MO,” Zoe said. “Lurk in a remote location, nearby a water source, patiently waiting for a victim to show up.”

“But it doesn’t match the murder of Catherine Lamb.”

She nodded. “That parking lot at the train station must have been one of Glover’s spots.”

“His spots?”

She raised her eyes to him. “There were no murders between 2009 and 2016.”

He guessed he was somehow supposed to link the two sentences together, but as often happened when talking to Zoe, he felt at a loss. “So?”

“Glover lived here for at least ten years. But he only killed two women, both in 2008. What did he do the rest of the time?”

“Indulged in fantasies. Masturbated to keep his sexual needs in check.”

“That’s right. But to keep them exciting, he’d need to freshen them up a bit every once in a while.”

“Why? How do you know he didn’t just relive his earlier murders over and over?”

“If that had been the case, the entire porn industry would have collapsed long ago,” Zoe said, a bit impatiently. “Sexual fantasies need variety. Especially with obsessive sexual predators, like Glover. And we know he responds to certain locations. That’s why he almost always goes nearby water. So he’d probably get a buzz when fantasizing at his special locations. I assume he’d go to spots that fit his MO and fantasize. He’d wait, just like last night, for a woman to walk by, alone, and he’d concoct a fantasy in his mind about how he would grab her, rape her, and strangle her to death.”

“So you’re thinking he simply returned to somewhere he used to frequent before?”

“I’m almost sure of it. I’m betting he knew the train schedules by heart.”

“But he didn’t actually rape Henrietta Fishburne. Why?”

Zoe tapped one of the pictures. Tatum studied it closely. It was Henrietta’s ribs, blooming with bruises.

“They confirmed this bruise is a result of a kick,” Zoe said. “He kicked her when she was down.”

“Or his partner did.”

“I don’t think so. His partner wants blood. Whatever the reason, this was his focus. And he got the blood he needed. But Glover desired something and didn’t get it. So he got angry, and he kicked her.”

Tatum thought about it. “You think he couldn’t function?”

“Yes. Maybe it’s the cancer. He must have been infuriated.” To Tatum’s surprise, she sounded worried.

“So?”

“It might significantly shorten the time until the next murder.”

They both let the silence stretch. Tatum was the first to break it. “Why the pentagram, the knife, and the phone call?”

“Well, like you already figured out, he wanted us to find her like that. And he wanted it to happen as soon as possible, probably before the body could decompose significantly.”

“But why?”

“He could be trying to throw us off,” Zoe said, doubt in her voice.

“Or he could be doing it to send you a message,” Tatum suggested. “Maybe he wanted you to see the body.”

“Why a pentagram, then? That makes no sense. There’s no significance to a pentagram for me or Glover.”

“It could be about publicity. Now that his time is running out, he’s trying to leave his mark.”

“That’s possible,” Zoe

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