Hour Game

Todd Williams was inundated by the journalistic deluge, as was Chip Bailey. Even King and Michelle failed to entirely escape the flood, watching in dismay as details of their previous high-profile investigative exploits were dredged up and made part of the current story.

More law enforcement resources were called in, both federal and state, and King wondered if the additional manpower was helping or hurting the investigation. The latter seemed to be the case as everyone jockeyed for position.

The letter finally came. It proclaimed that the killer of Junior Deaver was now imitating the clown prince of darkness, at least in serial killer circles: John Wayne Gacy. And you thought he only killed young men and boys, the message tauntingly read. Now you know he doesn't mind knocking off big fat rednecks like Junior Deaver.

They were all at another early morning task force meeting at the police station. The large conference room had been turned into a war room of sorts with banks of computers and telephones manned twenty-four/ seven, charts, maps, stacks of files, highly specialized personnel running down all leads, tons of coffee and doughnuts and not one viable suspect anywhere in sight.

"Gacy strangled many of his victims using that ligature technique," explained Chip Bailey.

"You certainly know your serial killers," said Michelle.

"I should. I've spent years tracking them down."

"And in prison the big, jolly fellow started doing paintings of clowns," added King, "which accounts for the mask, just in case we couldn't figure it out solely from the hangman's tourniquet."

"And Junior's watch was definitely set to five o'clock," said Michelle. "So either our serial murderer can't count or whoever killed Bobby Battle was a copycat."

"I think we can assume there are two killers out there," conceded Bailey. "Although there's an outside possibility that there's only one killer and he's messing with the numbers for some reason."

"What, he's angling to be charged with five killings instead of six?" asked King. "I don't know about other places, but in Virginia they only execute murderers once. "

Williams groaned and reached for the Advil. "Damn, my head's starting to hurt again."

"Have you seen Bobby Battle's will?" asked Michelle.

Williams swallowed the pills and nodded. "The vast bulk of his estate was left to Remmy."

"Did they hold the property by joint tenancy?" asked King.

"No. A lot was in Bobby's name only, including all his patents. The house went to Remmy automatically, and she had substantial property of her own."

"You said the vast bulk. Where did the remainder go?"

"Some charities. A little bit to Eddie and Dorothea. Not nearly enough to kill for, though."

"How about Savannah?" asked King.

"No, she got nothing. But she already had a big trust fund."

"But still, not to leave her anything, that was pretty callous."

"Maybe they weren't all that close," said Bailey.

King looked at him. "How well do you know the family?"

"Eddie and I see each other pretty regularly. We hunt together, and I've gone to some of his reenactments. He's come down to Quantico and toured the FBI Academy. In fact, Remmy and Bobby came down for that, and Mason, the butler, too. I own a couple pieces of Eddie's artwork. Dorothea helped me find my house in Charlottesville. I spent an afternoon with them after his father was killed. It shook him, I can tell you that. I actually think he was more concerned about the effect it had on his mother."

King nodded. "Well, he couldn't have killed his father. He was with us."

"And he was away fighting at reenactments when Rhonda Tyler and Canney and Pembroke were killed," said Bailey.

"How about Dorothea?" asked Michelle.

"We checked. She's clean too."

"At the time Bobby Battle died too?" asked King.

"Well, she said she was driving to Richmond for a meeting the next morning."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

King said, "So she really doesn't have an alibi either. Speaking of Dorothea, do you know her well?"

"Like I said, she was my Realtor. But I don't think she's crying herself to sleep because Bobby's dead."

"Happy marriage?" asked Michelle.

"Eddie loves her, I know that. I'm not sure how much that's reciprocated. Actually, between you and me, it wouldn't surprise me if she was catching some action on the side."

"And Savannah said she was home when her father died. Was she?"

"I asked the hired help about that, but they'd all gone to their house by that time, except for Mason, and he doesn't remember seeing her. And she wasn't exactly hitting on all cylinders when we talked to her. I'm going to have to question her again."

"So she's still a suspect too. What about Bobby and Remmy?" asked King.

"What about them?"

"If I told you we had information they'd had a knock-down-drag-out three or four years ago over Bobby's sleeping around, would that surprise you?"