It had been twenty-six hours since they had begun the investigation into Alison Williams' death and the team sat around the conference table, digging into their breakfast whilst discussing the evidence they had so far discovered.
It was Lindsay who began. 'I've analysed the fingerprints we found in the alley but there's so many that it's proving difficult to determine which may belong to our killer. And the fact there were no fingerprints surrounding the body or on the victim to compare with is making it even more difficult.'
'Yeah I'm having the same problem with trace in the alley. Too big a footfall is proving problematic.' Hawkes continued.
Adam spoke whilst munching a slice of toast. 'Uh...I've been checking all the CCTV footage from the week leading up to the murder and also of Alison on the day but there doesn't appear to be anyone following her and the vic seems to be acting normal.'
'Yeah this is what doesn't make sense. Alison Williams seems like a genuinely nice person. She has a loving fiancé, good friends and was about to start a fresh life in Ireland. She just doesn't seem to be the sort to have any enemies.' Jo leaned forward, stealing an apple from the middle of the table.
'What about the estrangement with her family?' Lindsay asked.
Angell cut in, 'Don and I talked to her parents and her older sister and they admitted that things have been strained between them and that they weren't talkin'...but they seemed genuinely devastated about her death.'
'Yeah that and their alibis check out. The parents were at a neighbourhood party 'til the back of one and the sister was at her home in Virginia.' Flack sipped his coffee.
'What about that red shard that was found. Anything on it?' Hawkes questioned.
'I ran it through the database and got a match.' Danny swiftly answered. 'It's from the handle of a small screwdriver, used in all sorts of industries. It could have come from anywhere.'
Adam asked. 'You think it was transferred from the killer?'
Jo nodded. 'It would appear so. It was out of place in the alley. I saw no other objects like it so it would seem that the only way it could have got there were if the killer himself had transferred it.'
'I have more.' Danny grinned, pleased with the evidence he had discovered. 'When I was examining the vic's clothes I found a black stain on the bottom of her trousers. I analysed it and it turned out to be gasoline. I also found traces of industrial paint and sawdust.'
'So she was somewhere that has some sort of construction or industry. That could suggest that our suspect works in an industry of some sort.' Jo raised her eyebrows at the development.
'Uh huh.' Danny nodded.
The team glanced to Mac who had hardly spoken throughout their discussion; something which had become a regular occurrence since Stella's departure. Before, Mac had always inputted but now he preferred to remain on the sidelines, only offering opinions when directly asked. Mac, noticing the stares directed at him, stood up, walking towards the evidence board.
'We have a four hour window from when Alison Williams was last seen alive and when her body was discovered in the alley. We know by lack of blood at the scene that the alley was not the primary crime scene. Our priority now is finding the primary scene and establishing the murder weapon. We find the scene and the weapon, we find the murderer.'
Mac was finding it difficult to control his ever-increasing frustration as he stood in front of the large screen looking at the images Hawkes had taken of the stab wound. It was a unique pattern, obviously caused by a specialised blade. Sid was in the middle of the autopsy and had promised to call after examining the wound but Mac was reluctant to wait. There was something about the wound...something that almost seemed to spark a memory. Mac deepened his frown.
'Pou eisai esi vre file? Skeftesei kat kai ksero pou thelis na me to pis.' Stella's voice invaded his thoughts.
Mac raised his eyebrow, 'And in English?'
'What the hell's buggin' ya Mac?' She smirked.
He returned the smirk. 'Sounds so much better in Greek.'
Smiling, Stella replied, 'Yeah, most things do.'
Yes the wound was definitely familiar. For a moment Mac almost remembered where he had seen it before, but it was gone again in an instance, fading back into the fog of his mind.
He glanced down at the computer screen beside him which was running the images through every weapon database in the country looking for any match. So far the database had compared it to kitchen knives, other household blades, gang weapons and yet, within the thousands of entries, there was still nothing.
Now the database had begun to compare industrial blades but for some reason Mac just knew that they were not going to get any results from that either. Suddenly, out of nowhere in his mind an image came to him- an image of him standing at a crime scene in the pouring rain, overlooking the body of a young woman. He saw that she lay on grass, her eyes staring up in the air unseeing and a gaping stab wound in her chest. Before despite the effort he put in trying to remember the specifics of the grisly murder, his mind was unable to recall the case that Alison William's death so eerily copied.
Under his breath, he cursed his aging mind and stepped closer to the board so that he was only a nose width away from the image, trying desperately to help his brain remember exactly where he had seen this before. The pattern was significant but try as he might he just couldn't quite place it.
The ringing of his cell disturbed his concentration and he tore his eyes away from the images, looking down at the caller ID to see that it was autopsy. 'Taylor.' He listened as Sid spoke.
'Sure Sid, I'll be right down.'
Sighing in heightened frustration he took one last look at the images before heading down to autopsy.
It had taken him a long time to locate her. She had hidden herself well and he would admit to being surprised at just where he had finally found her. It was one of the last places he would have expected a woman like her to have wound up. Obviously she was running from something and had done her best to maintain a low profile but for a man who had been running for a long time, he knew the life well and that was what had led to him eventually finding her.
He had been upset to discover that his two greatest adversaries were no longer partners on his return to the city but this had now given away to intrigue as to the reasons why they were no longer partners. Before, they had been inseparable and yet this had all changed. It was unexpected even after an absence of ten years. He had always had a perverse desire to get inside their heads, to know what it was that they both thought, to know all of their weaknesses and darkest secrets but this new-found knowledge only heightened this desire.
As he followed the woman to and from work, he found himself once again being captivated by her. She was a formidable opponent. Even though she was no longer a detective she would still put up an incredible fight if he deigned to take her. As much as he found that fantasy a pleasurable idea, he knew now was not the right moment. He had other, more important work to do. Already it was taking Mac Taylor too long to figure that he had returned, a situation which disappointed him yet provided him with an excuse for another victim. As much as he longed for it to be the woman he desired, it was not the right time.
Not yet anyway. Not without including Mac Taylor in his little fantasy. He had chosen another woman. A woman who for the time being was alive and well, but how quickly that situation would change, he smirked to himself. It was only a matter of time until Mac Taylor figured out that he had returned and then, he grinned coldly to himself, their little game he had begun a decade ago would recommence but this time with the added involvement of the female detective.
He wondered just how the great Mac Taylor would react to that news. It was obvious that the two detectives were no longer close but still they shared a bond impossible to ignore. It would provide him great entertainment to see just how far Mac Taylor would go to save his precious Stella Bonasera. But that time had not yet come and so he would have to wait until the right time to strike.
Stella glanced behind her as she arrived at the entrance to her apartment building. Around her the streets were filled with people on their way home for the night and despite the apparent busyness and normality of the evening, Stella's senses were telling her something was off. For the last few days Stella had had a strange feeling, as though she was being watched.
Instincts which had been instilled in her even before her time at the police academy told her that she was being followed but every time that she had looked behind or around her, there had been nothing suspicious. She wanted to dismiss it as paranoia but every time she left the apartment she had the same unnerving feeling and it was beginning to affect her nerves. Indeed Kate had noticed she had been slightly distracted at work and had questioned her on it but Stella was reluctant to voice her fears as she knew how unbelievable it all sounded. She had tried to convince herself that it was because of her concerns about the lab discovering where she was but as time passed she became more and more unsure.
Whilst leaving for work that morning she had been convinced that she had seen a hooded figure standing across the street, staring directly at her flat only for them to quickly disappear when they caught her staring at them. Then again, whilst waiting to cross a junction, she had thought she had seen the same hooded figure again but they had soon disappeared into the crowds and she had quickly dismissed the idea. It was coincidence that was all. Yet despite this, the uneasiness remained and Stella, as a precautionary measure at night, found herself double locking her door and placing her gun on the bedside cabinet as she slept.
She knew it was an overreaction and she was just paranoid but that simple act relieved some of her uneasiness and made her feel safe. However unknown to Stella, she was in more danger than she could ever possibly imagine.
'Hey Sid what have you got?' Mac asked as he walked into autopsy.
'Oh hey Mac. Just finished the autopsy on our vic here. Cause of death was as we thought- massive internal bleeding due to trauma caused by some sort of blade. I've examined the wound thoroughly Mac and I have to tell you I've never seen anything like it before. I have absolutely no idea what this weapon is. The preciseness of the wound suggests that our killer knew exactly what he was doing and that she bled out in minutes. I'd say he's killed before.'
For some unexplained reason, Mac's stomach clenched as a creeping sense of déjà vu came over him. He cleared his throat, 'What else have you got Sid?'
'The abrasions on her wrists and ankles suggest she was bound, most probably by chains. I also completed a sex kit on her and it came back negative.'
Mac nodded, turning to the exit, 'Thanks Sid.'
'Wait Mac, there's something you really need to see. Something...well I can't describe it. It wasn't noticeable because at the scene the body wasn't moved onto her front and her clothes were still on her. You...you need to have a look yourself.' The tone in his voice was one of fear.
Looking back, Mac would always say that he had known something was dreadfully wrong when he entered autopsy. There had been an atmosphere of anticipation and almost dread as though some evil was lurking, waiting to reveal its hand. In fact, Mac would even say he knew something was wrong the minute he had first arrived at the crime scene of Alison William's murder.
He had known all along that something was wrong; that something did not feel right. It was almost as though fate had played a hand. And looking back all he could remember was the abject fear as he stood there, frozen in horror at the sight before him.
There was writing all over Alison's body; cruel and offensive words decorated every part of her skin, carved by a blade. It was a sickening sight. Mac knew without Sid having to tell him that they had been written in whilst Alison was still alive and that in her final moments of life, filled with terror she was forced to listen to her captor as he degraded her and violated her in such a sadistic and depraved manner.
The scene was utterly horrifying. And in that moment it all made terrifying sense; the crime scene...the familiarity of the wound pattern but most of all the taunts which Mac knew were not written on her as part of anything Alison Williams' had done, but rather it was part of what he forced his victims to endure.
In the intense paralysis he found himself in, Mac was unaware of Sid's worried calls, or of anything happening in autopsy, everything else was inconsequential in the face of this horrific revelation.
For ten years the nightmare had remained hidden and now it had returned. There was only one thought that could penetrate his frozen mind and Mac found himself whispering, 'He's back.'
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