Chapter 3
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It was after 10 A.M. when they got to the police station. Sherlock insisted on getting a cup of the lukewarm coffee produced by a machine on the second floor before venturing to Captain Gregson's office.
"Don't look at me that way Watson," he said, while they stood there waiting for the cup to fill. "We can't all make time to drink coffee at a posh café while we size up potential dates."
"Drinking coffee at a café doesn't make me an elitist Sherlock," said Watson.
"Perhaps, but drinking jet fuel out of a paper cup does seem a bit more edgy, doesn't it?" Sherlock took a sip from the cup and cringed a little. "It truly surprises me the cup does not disintegrate upon contact with this stuff."
They walked to Captain Gregson's office where he sat behind his desk talking on the phone. After hanging up, Gregson greeted them. He got up to walk down the hall.
"Captain, I know you are quite keen on having me help Artemis Merrill," said Sherlock. "But, you do realize she thinks she's a vampire? That's enough to put someone off a bit."
Captain Gregson turned to look at Sherlock and Watson. "Sherlock, I think you may have misunderstood Artemis. She tries to make light of her real condition, but she suffers from porphyria. That's why she works nights; direct sunlight is dangerous to her health. She still manages to take care of an aging grandfather and stepped in to raise the nephew in question when her older sister abandoned him. That's a lot of pressure for someone who's maybe 30 and dealing with the side effects of a debilitating illness."
"You seem to have taken quite an interest in this young woman," said Sherlock.
"Early on when she joined the Medical Examiner's office, she helped me on a cold case. We ended up catching a serial murderer that had operated for 40 years…Jonathan Yarnell. There was a lot of research of ME records needed, and the job fell to Artemis. She gave it her all, and we pieced together enough evidence to build a case because of her work. We got to know each other; she reminds me a lot of my mother. My mom had a form of lupus that affected her skin. It was very painful at times, but she was always there for our family. She took care of everyone and didn't expect a thing in return."
Watson watched both men intently, as if she expected some major pushback from Sherlock, but he merely nodded in a resigned way and moved on without another word.
They entered the conference room where a tall,wide, graying man was already seated. "This is Dr. Jim Hildebrandt from the ME's office," Captain Gregson said. Jim Hildebrandt did not stand up but nodded at Sherlock and Watson who also sat down opposite a wall containing blown-up pictures of three bodies, along with facts about the cases. Detective Bell joined moments later, preferring to stand up behind the seated group. Captain Gregson began, "We have three murders that have occurred over the last 19 days. All three victims have been identified and were in their early twenties. All three bodies have been found within a block of a night club, but not the same night club each time. The victims were not killed where the bodies were found; Dr. Hildebrandt…"
Dr. Hildebrandt stood up to speak, looking like a great bear when stretched to his full size. "All three victims appear to have died from a blunt force trauma to the back of the head. However, post-mortem, all three were drained completely of blood. The drainage is not done by natural means; whoever has done this is using some type of equipment. There is very little residual blood left as one would normally see with someone bleeding out from a natural wound. In that situation, the heart stops pumping before all the blood is pushed out..."
"And blood drainage would be incomplete," Sherlock added. "The victims are likely taken somewhere, killed, drained and dumped?"
"That would be correct," said Jim Hildebrandt. "At first, we were unsure how the drainage had taken place. Whoever did this took great care attempting to hide the wound. Instead of doing it the easy way, they used a location down on the ankles; someone sealed the wound with some sort of glue and makeup. One of our technicians discovered the site."
"Ms. Merrill perhaps?" said Sherlock.
"Yes," said Jim Hidebrandt. He looked to Sherlock for more information, perhaps wondering how Sherlock would know her, but got no response.
Captain Gregson continued, "We aren't sure if there is a connection between the victims and the clubs. Victim 1, Mariah Cruz, MBA student, was a regular club goer, but we've not been able to establish a connection to Phantom, the club near where her body was found. Victim 2, Carl Vreeland, found near Altera and Victim 3, Daniel Marx, found near Strega, were not known club goers. Carl moved here six months ago from Amsterdam to work for a financial services company; coworkers said he worked long hours and wasn't exactly the friendliest guy in a room. Daniel Marx was a rabbinical school student, apparently devoted to his studies and a charity organization he helps run."
Detective Bell added, "And Strega is a very high-end place; the cover charge alone is $100 most nights. My cousin is a seminary student; in general, those guys aren't known for rolling in the Benjamins. We've looked into companies selling the type of equipment that could extract all the blood from a body; no hits so far, and we may find nothing. There are second-hand sales avenues or possibly someone imported one from outside the country. We've also looked into what someone could do with the blood; there is a certain dollar value assignable to blood products, but no one's going to become a millionaire off it any time soon. And there are legitimate and illegitimate avenues for obtaining blood, so why go to the trouble of buying a machine and killing and draining one person per week?"
"Is something special about these people's blood?" said Sherlock, his gaze traveling about the room as he took in the group. "Could someone want these peoples' genetic material, and someone is using blood as the source? If it was valuable enough, perhaps murder would not be out of the question?"
"Blood is a possible source of stem cells, but not without special treatment over several days. Bone marrow would be a preferred source," said Watson.
"And the bone marrow is untouched," said Dr. Hildebrandt.
"And there wasn't an extended period between disappearance and death. Witnesses saw all three victims within 6 hours of their death at most," added Detective Bell.
Captain Gregson continued, "We're adding patrols to the club areas. There's been talk about sending in undercover agents, but without a solid connection between the clubs and the bodies, it's overkill."
"I believe we are dealing with something entirely different here, not some sort of club killing spree," said Sherlock, getting up. He walked over to the pictures of the bodies and continued. "Two men, one woman, not related, not even appearing to share an ethnic background; that cuts down on the likelihood of sharing some rare genetic trait. What they do have in common is that all three are young, and lead busy lives with long hours. You'd have to be a pretty healthy, vigorous person to keep their schedules I would guess: an MBA student who also parties, a business person working 100 hour weeks and a rabbinical student who no doubt spends hours studying between serving those in need. It would seem more reasonable that their death may relate to that common trait."
Detective Bell added, "That still doesn't explain why they were dumped near clubs or what someone would be doing with that blood."
Sherlock countered as he stood up, "That would be correct and that's where I will start. Good day gentleman, there is much to consider. You'll be hearing from me. Watson…"
Joan jumped at Sherlock screaming her name and followed him out. She practically had to run to keep up with him. "Sherlock, there are lots of young healthy people out there; no one's taking their blood. How do you know there's a connection?"
"I don't; it's an educated guess…a deduction. I just don't have the entire picture yet. But I know someone who might be able to help with that."
"A certain vampire named Artemis Merrill?" asked Joan.
"Very good Watson, now you're deducing too."