The Psalmist by James Lilliefors Read Free Book Online Page B

saying you did. I’m just saying let’s make sure they have it right in future references.”
    Hunter looked back at the report as Kirsten Sparks resumed her gum-­chomping at a faster pace.
    â€œSo far, dental, fingerprints, and DNA have not resulted in an ID. Yesterday, two photos of Jane Doe and one of the tattoo on her ankle were sent electronically to law enforcement agencies throughout Delaware, Virginia, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, and D.C. A physical description and sketch to area media. We’ve contacted every police department in the state for missing persons reports. With no match so far.”
    Hunter turned another page. “Okay,” she said. “This next part isn’t for the media yet, or for public consumption.” She glanced quickly at Sparks. “Preliminary autopsy shows four broken bones in her legs, two broken ribs, and a broken bone in her left arm. All of those wounds appear to be postmortem. The cause of death is two .22 caliber gunshot wounds to the chest.”
    Kirsten Sparks stopped chewing. For a moment even Clinton Fogg’s eyes rose to look at her. “Wow,” Sparks said.
    â€œLividity of the body indicates she had been moved, probably twice, before the perpetrator carried her into the church and left her in the pew. The M.E. found signs of ligature on her wrists. Nowhere else.
    â€œYesterday, investigators went house-­to-­house interviewing residents along Bayfront. We’ve got four ­people who say they saw vehicles near the church overnight or early Tuesday. Two say they saw a white or tan SUV driving along the church road. One put it at around one-­thirty, the other at one forty-­five or one-­fifty. Then we’ve got two reports of a silver pickup on Bayfront just after sunrise Tuesday. No plate numbers on either vehicle, unfortunately.
    â€œState police have talked with church employees, including the six ­people who had keys to the building, and most or all of the AA members who attended a meeting in the parlor Monday night. It’s likely the parlor window had been left unlocked and the perpetrator entered through that window.” She turned a page in her notes. “Three stores in Tidewater County were open all night and we’re still reviewing the tapes. There are several cameras up on the highway and at the Bay Bridge, so we’re in the process of checking everything coming and going.” She nodded to Henry Moore, who had moved three state police homicide investigators to Tidewater County just to help sift through surveillance tapes.
    Hunter didn’t bring up the numbers that had been carved into the Jane Doe’s right hand. She also didn’t mention that sheriff’s deputies, in particular Barry Stilfork, had compromised much of the crime scene and probably contaminated evidence. Nor did she speculate on the possibility that this crime might be connected to others, which Hunter was beginning to think possible. She thought it would help explain why the local case had such big problems.
    â€œQuestions?”
    No one spoke. John Jay Blount, she noticed, was staring at her, a cryptic, lopsided smile on his face.
    â€œCaptain Blount, how’s your day going so far?” Hunter said, and he immediately lowered his eyes.
    Then Kirsten Sparks, talking and chewing at the same time, said, “I’m getting inquiries about whether this was a homicide. Can we at least tell the media it was a homicide?”
    Hunter nodded. “I don’t see any reason not to. Unless there are any objections.”
    State’s attorney investigator Clinton Fogg made a snorting sound.
    â€œMr. Fogg?”
    He shook his head and closed his eyes. He was a peculiar man, who barely acknowledged some ­people and was overly friendly with others. Often he acted as if he was hard of hearing, though he wasn’t. Fogg was thorough and highly competent as a detective, but loyal to no one but