working on this case.”
“Understood.”
“Pick two men and have them start running the details of this crime through the FBI database. See if there are records of any recent murders resembling this one.”
“Got it.”
“And have someone run a background check on the victims. If there are any possible reasons why someone might want to wipe out this entire family—or any one of them—I want to know about it.”
“Will do.”
“I’m going to want someone to comb the area. Talk to all the neighbors. Ask if anyone saw anything suspicious.”
“O-kay …” Tomlinson said, a bit slower than before.
Mike knew why he was hesitating. As any experienced cop would realize, this would be by far the most miserable of the assigned tasks. “Tomlinson, I’m sorry to do this to you … but I’d appreciate it if you’d handle that one yourself.”
To his credit, Tomlinson didn’t bat an eyelash. “Yes sir.”
“I’m going to check out this guy Harvey. He seems to be the one the killer was most interested in. The one he wanted to hurt most. I’ll go to his place of work, talk to his boss, his coworkers. Find out whatever I can. And when the background check is finished, maybe I’ll have some more leads.”
“Sounds good, sir.” There was something about the inflection in Tomlinson’s voice, the way he finished the sentence on an up tonality rather than a down, that told Mike there was more he wanted to say.
“Something else, Sergeant?”
Tomlinson licked his lips. “Sir … I expect you wanted me to get on this right away.…”
“You got that right.”
“Sir … would it be all right if I made a quick dash home? Saw my family?”
A deep crease crossed Mike’s forehead. He’d met Tomlinson’s family a few times—a pretty wife named Karen. A daughter, probably about four or five years old now. He knew Tomlinson was very devoted to them. Which was probably why his marriage still worked, when so many other cops" marriages had failed. “May I ask why?”
“I don’t know, sir. I just …” His eyes drifted back toward the house. The house of horror. The site of the most violent, grisly murder the two of them had ever witnessed. “I’d just like to check on everyone. That’s all. Won’t take a minute.”
Mike laid his hand on his protégé’s shoulder. “You do that, Sergeant. And give them a kiss for me.”
“Yes sir.”
He erased his smile. “And then get to work. Double time. Understand?”
“Yes sir!”
“Good.” He turned and stared up at the house, at the bedroom window—the one splattered with blood. “I don’t know what happened in there. But I intend to find out.”
Chapter 6
B EN PASSED COPIES OF the three-page document to the rest of his staff: Christina, Jones, and Loving. He gave them ten minutes to scrutinize the document, although it could easily be read in half that time.
“This is what I’ve managed to come up with,” Ben explained. “Think it’ll get their attention?”
Jones flipped past the standard identification of the parties and their places of residence and cut to the gravamen of the Complaint. “Paragraph Eight. That Defendant H. P. Blaylock knowingly or with reckless disregard poisoned the plaintiffs" water supply with toxic chemicals. Paragraph Nine. That the chemicals discharged by Defendant H. P. Blaylock included TCE, a powerful neural poison, which causes symptoms ranging from dizziness and nausea to liver damage and cancer. Paragraph Ten. That the Defendant’s aforementioned activities resulted in an epidemic of leukemia and the deaths of eleven children, as well as injuries to their families, including but not limited to emotional distress and the real and perceived danger of an increased risk of leukemia and other cancers and diseases in the surviving family members.”
Jones looked up from the paper, his face deadpan. “Yeah, Boss. I think that might get their attention.”
“So what’re we askin" for?” Loving asked. Loving
“Understood.”
“Pick two men and have them start running the details of this crime through the FBI database. See if there are records of any recent murders resembling this one.”
“Got it.”
“And have someone run a background check on the victims. If there are any possible reasons why someone might want to wipe out this entire family—or any one of them—I want to know about it.”
“Will do.”
“I’m going to want someone to comb the area. Talk to all the neighbors. Ask if anyone saw anything suspicious.”
“O-kay …” Tomlinson said, a bit slower than before.
Mike knew why he was hesitating. As any experienced cop would realize, this would be by far the most miserable of the assigned tasks. “Tomlinson, I’m sorry to do this to you … but I’d appreciate it if you’d handle that one yourself.”
To his credit, Tomlinson didn’t bat an eyelash. “Yes sir.”
“I’m going to check out this guy Harvey. He seems to be the one the killer was most interested in. The one he wanted to hurt most. I’ll go to his place of work, talk to his boss, his coworkers. Find out whatever I can. And when the background check is finished, maybe I’ll have some more leads.”
“Sounds good, sir.” There was something about the inflection in Tomlinson’s voice, the way he finished the sentence on an up tonality rather than a down, that told Mike there was more he wanted to say.
“Something else, Sergeant?”
Tomlinson licked his lips. “Sir … I expect you wanted me to get on this right away.…”
“You got that right.”
“Sir … would it be all right if I made a quick dash home? Saw my family?”
A deep crease crossed Mike’s forehead. He’d met Tomlinson’s family a few times—a pretty wife named Karen. A daughter, probably about four or five years old now. He knew Tomlinson was very devoted to them. Which was probably why his marriage still worked, when so many other cops" marriages had failed. “May I ask why?”
“I don’t know, sir. I just …” His eyes drifted back toward the house. The house of horror. The site of the most violent, grisly murder the two of them had ever witnessed. “I’d just like to check on everyone. That’s all. Won’t take a minute.”
Mike laid his hand on his protégé’s shoulder. “You do that, Sergeant. And give them a kiss for me.”
“Yes sir.”
He erased his smile. “And then get to work. Double time. Understand?”
“Yes sir!”
“Good.” He turned and stared up at the house, at the bedroom window—the one splattered with blood. “I don’t know what happened in there. But I intend to find out.”
Chapter 6
B EN PASSED COPIES OF the three-page document to the rest of his staff: Christina, Jones, and Loving. He gave them ten minutes to scrutinize the document, although it could easily be read in half that time.
“This is what I’ve managed to come up with,” Ben explained. “Think it’ll get their attention?”
Jones flipped past the standard identification of the parties and their places of residence and cut to the gravamen of the Complaint. “Paragraph Eight. That Defendant H. P. Blaylock knowingly or with reckless disregard poisoned the plaintiffs" water supply with toxic chemicals. Paragraph Nine. That the chemicals discharged by Defendant H. P. Blaylock included TCE, a powerful neural poison, which causes symptoms ranging from dizziness and nausea to liver damage and cancer. Paragraph Ten. That the Defendant’s aforementioned activities resulted in an epidemic of leukemia and the deaths of eleven children, as well as injuries to their families, including but not limited to emotional distress and the real and perceived danger of an increased risk of leukemia and other cancers and diseases in the surviving family members.”
Jones looked up from the paper, his face deadpan. “Yeah, Boss. I think that might get their attention.”
“So what’re we askin" for?” Loving asked. Loving
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