Field of Graves(41)

Taylor was shaking her head. “You’re going to love this. There’s some really weird stuff out there relating to aconite. Witches and warlocks and pagans. It’s on all the lists of poisonous plants on every botanical website. It’s an alkaloid and will kill you pretty darn quick, but the homeopathic sites list medical uses for it. The Chinese use it for pneumonia and rheumatism. There’s a well-documented history of its use through medieval times, and it was used in Greek and Celtic practices and pagan burial rites. You can get it anywhere, too. The homeopathic websites actually sell it.”

Lincoln jumped in. “Here’s more fun stuff. According to some of the sites I accessed, aconite was often mixed with belladonna, which produced a kind of delirium akin to flying. Pliny the Elder sanctioned its use for euthanasia. When he wrote The Natural History, he gives a whole history of the squabbles of the Roman emperors and their families. They used aconite to get rid of enemies of the state. The Romans used aconite to poison rivals because accusations of murder by poison were incredibly hard to prove. You could get it from any drug peddler on the street, hence the custom of the royals having food tasters. I can go on and on—there’s a ton of stuff out there—but I also came across one interesting tidbit on one of the Wicca sites. Aconite’s magical properties include protection and invisibility.”

Baldwin was intrigued. “Protection and invisibility. Huh. I like the protection angle. Maybe this guy thinks he’s shielding these women from something? Then he scatters them with burial herbs to complete the ritual. Interesting. Toss the Parthenon as a dump site in there, and we’ve got ourselves a real throwback to the ancients.”

Taylor took a seat next to Baldwin. “We could trace all the purchases of aconite over the past month, but I don’t think it will do any good. It can be grown in a garden in the backyard.” She consulted one of the sheets. “‘An absolute must for every witch’s garden.’ It would be a waste of time looking for the source. We’ll have to trace the killer through the evidence we have, and take Jordan’s and Shelby’s lives apart. There has to be some connection between the two besides Vanderbilt. I don’t think this guy just spotted them on the street and decided to grab them. Something in my gut tells me this was planned, that they were chosen for a reason. We just have to figure out what the reason is.”

“I think you’re right, Taylor. The organization of the scene at the Parthenon shows quite a bit of thought. If we were talking a normal serial killer, one who escalates in violence, the poisoning would come before the stabbing, instead of the other way around.” Baldwin ran his hands through his hair, a gesture Taylor was starting to recognize. “But I don’t think we’re dealing with any kind of serial or series killer who would fit a standard profile. Stabbing and poison as MOs are very different pathologies, and these deaths aren’t indiscriminate. We’re dealing with a man with a purpose, a reason. Whether he’s sending us a message or doing it for himself is the puzzle. Unlike the usual killer who stages a crime scene, I’m willing to bet our involvement is secondary to his primary goal. In other words, he’s not leaving them for us to find. He isn’t showing off.”

The group digested this idea, and Taylor was the first to speak. “Okay, where do we start?”

“You have the files on the girls from the university? Let’s start there. There has to be an overlap between these two girls. It’s a liberal arts school, so there has to be a curriculum they have to follow before they declare a major. Let’s go back through their records and start looking at any classes they may have had in common.”

Taylor started giving assignments. “Lincoln, get back online and see if you can find anything else on the aconite. Toss in the herbs, the Parthenon, anything you think could be related. Baldwin and I are going to start working through the records.”

The phone rang on Fitz’s desk, and he answered it gruffly. “Homicide...Yeah...Shit.” He banged the phone down and started rubbing the lower half of his face.

“What’s the matter, Fitz? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Is everything okay?” Taylor looked spooked. There was something in Fitz’s eyes that was freaking her out.

“That was Missing Persons. They just got a report of a girl named Jill Gates, who’s been missing for the past few days.”

Taylor sat down slowly. “Spit it out, Fitz.”

“She’s a student at Vanderbilt.”





32



The flurry of activity died down as the news sank in. Two dead, another missing. Taylor sat with her head in her hands, and Baldwin tried not to show how shaken he felt. This suspect was moving too damn quick for them to get the slightest idea of what he was trying to do.

Taylor stood, shaking her head. “I need a smoke,” she said to no one in particular. Everyone watched her stalk out. Baldwin half rose in his chair, indecisiveness painted all over his face. He looked to Fitz first, almost asking his permission to try and reach out to Taylor. Fitz nodded imperceptibly. Baldwin gave a relieved sigh and headed out to the landing where he had seen all the cigarette butts.

What the hell are you doing, man? He barely knew Taylor, but for some reason felt protective of her. Even through his own pain he could see she was suffering, and he felt it was more than just this case. From her simple statement last night, telling him she’d shot a fellow detective, he assumed it was a case gone south, but perhaps there was more. He’d overheard Fitz and Marcus talking in the hall yesterday, caught Taylor’s name, but they’d clammed up the moment they realized he’d walked up to them. Something was up; both men looked earnest and concerned, but they had switched gears and welcomed him, asking if he wanted coffee or anything. He’d refused and continued down the hall, curiosity draping him in its mantle.