Nemesis: The Final Case of Eliot Ness by William Bernhardt Page A

and hay."
    "So... our killer is a farmer?"
    "I would not jump to any conclusions. None of those substances are difficult to find in the city."
    "Is there anything useful you can tell me?"
    Pearce glanced at his report. "The torso was bisected at the second lumbar vertebra. A vertical incision runs the full length of the bottom half. The thighs were significantly obese and severed at the hip. The right arm was severed at the shoulder joint. It evidences signs of rigor mortis. Also"-he drew in his breath-"her complete reproductive system was removed. The whole thing. And half the appendix. And as before, the killer left smooth edges, neat incisions. He is good with a knife."
    "Like-some kind of professional? A doctor?"
    "There are any number of people accustomed to dissection or cutting flesh. I personally find the suggestion that the crime might have been committed by someone trained and educated in the medical arts abhorrent and... unlikely in the extreme."
    "Then who was it?"
    "I couldn't possibly say."
    "Look, Doc," Merylo said, "we're desperate here. We've been combing the countryside for miles around Kingsbury Run, and Andrassy's home neighborhood, and now the Charity Hospital area."
    "With no leads?"
    "We get leads. But none of them go anywhere. Trouble is, the papers and radio are getting people so worked up, they're just not rational anymore. They're scared, and scared people do stupid stuff. Every time they hear a footstep or a barking dog or see a picnic basket, they go into a panic. They suspect every stranger, every neighbor with a pair of binoculars, everyone with a funny accent. The leads don't lead anywhere because they're based on irrational fear, not information."
    "Your killer has twice left corpses in very public places. Eventually you're bound to find someone who caught him in the act."
    "You'd think, wouldn't you? But so far not. So far no one saw him do anything."
    "Or at least," Zalewski added quietly, "no one who saw him do anything lived to talk about it."
    Another disturbing possibility, and one that Merylo had to admit had crossed his mind.
    "We've been trying everything we know. We've questioned Andrassy's relatives, everyone who knew him. We got nothing. Interviewed all the women associated with him-and there were many. Learned nothing."
    "Except," Zalewski said, interrupting again, "whatever it was that man had, I wish I could get some."
    "Yeah, the ladies loved him, but someone else didn't. Some folks say Andrassy carried an ice pick with him for protection-but that didn't save him from the man who cut off his head. My men canvassed the neighborhood at the summit of Jackass Hill, showing the Andrassy mug shot around. No one knew anything."
    "What about his work history?" Pearce inquired. "Have you investigated that?"
    "Of course I have. What do you take me for, an amateur? Problem is, he rarely had anything you could call a real job. Your typical con man. Grifter. Had a job at City Hospital that he worked off and on over eight years. Probably came back whenever he needed some cash, left as soon as he didn't."
    Pearce tapped the tip of his cigarette against the ashtray, his eyebrows knitted. "Where did he work in the hospital?"
    "The loony bin. Why?"
    Pearce laid down his cigarette. "You're sure about that?"
    "Yeah, I'm sure. What's your point?"
    "I don't have a point," Pearce said, turning his eyes away and staring at a fixed point on the wall. "But it would not surprise me to learn that this killer had spent time in a psychiatric ward."
    "You suspect some freak who can't even think straight could pull off these crimes and get away with it? I'm not even sure the mob's top man could commit these crimes and get away with it!"
    Pearce sighed heavily, then retook his cigarette and inhaled deeply. "Detective Merylo. Have you ever heard of a man known as Jack the Ripper?"
    Merylo searched his mind. "Think so. Some kind of murderer, right? In England?"
    "What do you know about him?"
    "I-don't really