Blood Wolf’s Path - стр. 21
“What is it?” I asked – but I already saw it on the couch.
The woman had been lying on a blanket. When they moved her, the blanket slid off, revealing red letters scrawled across the upholstery:
DH + HS = DH by 01.01
“Not a word. I’ll take a sample,” Herner said.
Looks like he didn’t get the riddle. Neither did Cherry, judging by her dumb face. She had an excuse – but Herner? He’d been friends with my partner.
“Looks like we’re staying here. Search the place top to bottom. This isn’t just any murder – we’re hunting a very specific killer. I want everything on both the first and second victims. There will be more – that’s certain. Check the laptop?” I asked.
I walked over to the laptop on the coffee table and tapped the space bar.
The desktop wallpaper was a pair of shapely legs in white stockings. A Word doc was minimized – I opened it. Four lines stared back:
The monster will come
And you it will slay.
At night I shall pray
And live through the day.
Two hours later, I left Cherry and got into my pickup. This killer clearly wanted me to investigate these murders. Either he was some amateur who thought he was immortal, or a calculated psychopath trying to leave me holding the bag. DH were my initials. HS were my late partner’s. But why that strange equation?
I asked the operator to connect me to Cocksucker. Ten seconds later, he was on the line.
“Hello, Jerry Harrison,” Cocksucker greeted me.
“Hey, Cocksucker. Swear to me this isn’t one of the Bureau’s sick jokes. I’m at a crime scene – second woman dead, brutally murdered. And it looks like the killer knows me and is playing games,” I said.
“No, we don’t do that kind of thing. And remember – the first murder happened before you and I even met,” Cocksucker replied.
“That doesn’t mean much. Anyway… you probably don’t know, but in the mid-20th century Boston had a serial killer – the Boston Strangler. Same M.O. as our new friend. As far as I remember, they caught him. This can’t be coincidence. We need to find the bastard.”
“You think the Boston Strangler’s back?”
“Some nut read too much internet before bed. I’ll find him. I’m going to the archives to take a fresh look at the original Strangler case. I want you to check your channels – maybe the FBI has more than what’s in the files,” I said.
“Fine, I’ll look. But Jerry… I’ll say this up front: we don’t have time for this crap. We’ve got bigger problems. By the way, Fred Johnson – that Crooked-Dick – still hasn’t made a move on you? And what about Cherry?”
“It’s been three days. Relax. I’m on it,” I said crisply. I didn’t like his pushy tone.
“This country’s in the middle of a werewolf epidemic, son. I can’t wait forever. My boss has me by the balls and soon he’ll start pulling. You’re only free and alive because I vouched for you. Don’t let me down,” Cocksucker pressed.
“I get it. But we agreed I’d wait for Fred Johnson’s people to make the first move. Let’s stick to that plan. If it fails, we go on the offensive,” I suggested.
“Fine. You’ve got four more days. Don’t screw this up,” he said, then hung up.
I already knew about the Boston Strangler. We’d studied the case at the police academy. In short: in 1962, 1963, and 1964, thirteen women aged 19 to 85 were killed. The murders were linked into one series.