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"Paul Saunders' body was found in the living room, having been stabbed eighty-seven times. Most of the wounds were on his torso and upper extremities, some on his face and several on his neck, as though the killer had a hard time cutting the carotid…or wanted for him to suffer. There were signs of struggle but under the circumstances, it seemed as though he succumbed to the severity of his injuries shortly after the attack began. It's likely that it all started in the living room and that he was attacked first, and never left the room."
Mike put the coroner's report down and helped himself to another bite of his Reuben, shamelessly enjoying his partner's company in the otherwise barren bullpen that evening.
Neither one of them had been ready to go home, or deal with the press circling the Hall of Justice building like piranhas looking for blood. As such, they'd ordered in from a local sandwich place, bypassing the issue for another few precious hours and settling on a brief case discussion.
Across his desk, Steve held up a large image of the crime scene, his eyes travelling left to right, top to bottom several times, as if to imprint it into the back of his mind.
It was a difficult photo to take in, seeing a body sprawled out on the floor in a sea of blood, the walls covered in crimson handprints, seeing the fear in Paul Saunders' cloudy eyes long after he'd taken his last breath.
"And nobody saw or heard anything?", Steve asked quietly, not having touched his BLT at all yet.
"There was a bad thunderstorm the day it happened. It's possible that the sound of the heavy rainfall drowned out some of the noise."
Putting one image down and grabbing the next, the young Inspector inhaled deeply, turning a shade paler when he came upon what must be the photo of Marie Saunders out in the hallway.
"This is where it gets weird…", Mike continued after a sip of coke, "None of the crime scene analysts and psychologists that Alex brought in were able to give him a good explanation on that."
"It says here that the body was found with approximately 145 stab wounds to the torso, neck, face and upper extremities. They weren't sure about the exact number because of the severe tissue damage.", Steve read out loud, "Additionally, the left arm was severed at the elbow joint. The arm was then thrown onto the couple's bed for some strange symbolic reason. Coroner hypothesized that this happened while she was still alive?"
"Yeah. I think we're dealing with a real sicko here, Buddy Boy."
Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, the concern about tapping into a case this vile written all over the young Inspector's face.
"I guess I can see why Burlingame PD was so eager to hand this one over. Is Olsen ok with us grabbing this case? It's outside our jurisdiction. And what about Curtis?"
"I'll have Rodney in Vice track Curtis down for us. He's got more manpower on hand than we currently do. As far as Olsen is concerned, he owes me a favor after he had me handle the Sullivan situation…", Mike answered too fast, his passion about solving the case that quite possibly cost a good friend his life pushing him along this evening.
"You have a strange way of calling in favors…", Steve returned and put the photo back down, exhaling slowly, refusing to let his mind drift back to Henry Sullivan, an eager reporter who had managed to get a hold of undisclosed case information and threatened to release it unless he was given first dibs at reporting an ongoing murder investigation.
Thankfully, a stern talking-to by none other than the famous Mike Stone had done the trick to get the man to back off, before more harm could be done to jeopardize the difficult case.
"So, the guy was either somebody they knew or trusted enough to let him in through the front door. He then proceeds to butcher both Paul and Marie, doesn't take any valuables, the car is still there…but what about the kid?"
Mike swallowed hard, having anticipated the question. With undisguised dread, he reached across his desk and pulled one of the last pictures out from underneath the stack.
The one he'd spend half an hour staring at earlier.
The one that was worn out from use and had Alex's thumbprint worked into the bottom right hand corner.
"All we have is this. A camera two blocks north captured a man walking a kid down the sidewalk in the pouring rain. The description fits what we have of little Kevin Saunders."
Giving his partner a moment to stare at the grainy image, Mike took another bite out of his sandwich, hoping that first meal of his long day would help soothe his upset stomach somewhat.
"I take it there's been no ransom demands? Alex checked into the background to make sure the kid wasn't adopted and his real father came to claim him?"
"That's what everyone thought but we do have a birth certificate and if you look at the picture of the parents, the kid does resemble them quite well. Matter of fact, I have the name of the OB/GYN who attended the birth five years ago and will testify to that."
"Damn."
It's all that Steve said for many long minutes as he continued to stare at the image, his eyes eventually moving to a spot off the side, his mind undoubtedly miles away.
Mike gave him all the time he needed and didn't clear his throat again until his partner looked up.
"Now, I owe it to Alex to catch this monster and close this case. Whoever did this is smart. He didn't leave any prints behind, going as far as wearing something over his boots so they couldn't get anything off the carpet. He also had to have known about the kid, then targeted his attack at his parents in the worst fashion possible. This guy isn't gonna be a walk in the park. He's going to be trouble, the worst kind. With this much time passed, there's a chance that little Kevin Saunders is dead by now. I guess…I guess all that to say that if you don't want to get in on this one, I completely understand. I would have no problem with you helping the other guys for a week or so while I look into this case. The last thing I want to do is to cause any more damage than this case has already caused and while-"
Steve cut him off with the wave of the hand, then lowered the photo onto the stack, the other hand nervously straightening out his burgundy tie.
"You don't have to convince me to join you on this, you know? You had me when you said that this guy is still on the loose, somewhere out there, possibly planning on another massacre. I say let's take the case and make sure we put this guy behind bars and throw away the key before more innocent people get murdered."