Fragmented by Colleen Connally Read Free Book Online Page B

Males between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two. The common element—a 1969 vintage baseball card—had been left at the scene. Both cards were from the Orioles: one, Boog Powell; the other, Frank Robinson. That, along with a black Milano stiletto knife left in the heart of each victim, suggested they had a serial killer who wanted them to know it was his work.
    Neither of the other cases had occurred within his jurisdiction : one in Dedham and the other in Cambridge. The first murder had caused concern among the public; the second, alarm. Brophy was under no illusions. The third would cause panic.
    The medical examiner’s preliminary report came back much as expected. The victim, Rey Caputo, died due to a single thrust into his heart by a single knife blade—the black Milano stiletto found in the chest of the victim consistent with the ones found in the previous victims.
    Brophy clicked off the call. He needed to see Captain Centrello. He walked toward his commander’s office. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw the captain in on a Saturday.
    Captain Centrello was on the phone. When he saw Brophy in the doorway, he waved him to come in.
    Brophy regarded Captain Centrello while the man talked. The captain wasn’t happy. Centrello was old-school, blunt and to the point. Ten years Brophy’s senior, clean-cut, shoes shining, hair immaculately cut, not a hair out of place—neither was a paper out of place on his desk—married to the same woman for twenty-six years. Brophy realized that the Centrello tolerated him for one reason and one reason only: Centrello like closed cases and he closed cases.
    Centrello hung up the phone and turned his attention to Brophy. “Sit. I’m not going to have you rush out. Make the time. I didn’t come in on a Saturday to get a quick brush-off. Just talking to the commissioner. Do I need to tell you what he said? Do you have anything?”
    Brophy stifled a groan. The last thing he wanted was to give a full briefing. Seemed he didn’t have much of a choice. He scraped a hand over his stubble-covered chin and nodded. “The lab confirmed the knives are the same—black stiletto single blade. The coroner concluded that like the other two victims, the Caputo kid was killed by a single thrust straight into the heart. Then there’s the damn baseball card.”
    “ So it’s the same guy. We’ve got a goddamn serial killer.”
    Brophy grimaced and shrugged. “It seems that way, Captain, but something is gnawing at me. Something is wrong with this one.”
    “ Out with it, Broph.” Centrello tilted his head upward to look Brophy in his eyes. “If the evidence points that the murders are the same MO…”
    On the utterance, Brophy shook his index finger at the captain, like a switch to the way his mind worked had been turned on, releasing the onslaught of his thoughts. “But that’s just it. It does and it doesn’t. There is little doubt that the murders are linked, not with the knife and bloodied card connecting them. I’m just not so sure it was by the same person. The first two, the murders seemed random. It was like the victims were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
    “ With the first victim, the guy was leaving the Venus club with his girlfriend. She forgot she had given her phone to her girlfriend, who was still in the club. When she came out, she found him lying by his car, dead, with the knife through his heart.
    “ Now with the second one, the victim was hanging out with his friends. They had gone to the midnight premiere of the latest action movie. Waiting for the T, he had to go relieve himself. He went off to the dark side area. When the Greenline arrived, his friends went to look for him because he didn’t return. They found him lying dead…the same, knife through the heart with the card beside the body, covered in blood.”
    “ I know the details of the murders. Get to your point.”
    “ That’s just it. They were random. Opportunistic murders. Like the