The Judge's List (The Whistler #2)(28)
His rate was $200 an hour and she could not afford any surprises. He was a freelance investigator, a lone gunman who worked for no one and anyone who was willing to pay his rate. He worked for the families of victims, small-town cops in dozens of states, the FBI, investigative journalists, novelists, and Hollywood producers. For those seeking data on violent crime, he was the source. He seldom left his basement and lived online digging, trolling, gathering, reporting, and selling his data. He absorbed murder statistics from all fifty states and probably spent more time in the FBI’s violent crime clearinghouse than anyone inside or outside the Bureau.
When the issue was murder, and especially unsolved murder, Kenny Lee was the man. Above the table, he ran his little business through a Bangor lawyer who handled his contracts and wire transfers of fees. All of his business was word of mouth, and quiet words at that. KL did not advertise and could say no to anyone. Under the table, he used aliases and coded emails and took his fees in cash, anything to protect the identity of his clients and the killers they were stalking.
An hour later, Jeri was sitting in the dark, waiting, asking herself what she would do if KL had another victim. He wasn’t always right. No one could be. Ten months earlier, KL had appeared from the clouds and reported on a strangulation in Kentucky that at first looked promising. Jeri paid him for four hours of work, then spent two months digging before she hit a dead end, a rather abrupt one, when the police arrested a man who confessed.
KL had sent a note and said too bad, those are the breaks. He followed thousands of cases around the country, and many of them were old and would never be solved.
Each year in the United States there were about three hundred murders officially categorized as suffocation/strangulation/asphyxiation. Half involved a lunge for the throat to end a domestic disagreement, and those were usually solved in short order.
The rest involved strangulation, the act of wrapping something violently around the neck, with the murderer routinely leaving behind the ligature. Electrical cords, belts, bandanas, baling wire, chains, bootlaces, coat hangers, and ropes and cords of many makes and varieties. The same type of nylon rope used to kill her father was used all the time. It was readily available in stores and online.
Most of the murders in the second category were never solved.
Her laptop pinged, and she opened it and went through her authentication protocols and typed in her passcodes. It was Kenny Lee:
Five months ago, in Biloxi, Mississippi, Harrison County, victim name of Lanny Verno was found strangled. No crime scene photos yet but maybe soon. Description of ligature sounds close. 3/8 inch nylon rope tied off with the same knot to keep pressure on. Severe head wound, probably before death. Deceased was 37 years old and working as a house painter, killed on the job, no witnesses. However, a complication. The police think a witness appeared at the wrong time and met the same fate, minus the rope. Severe head wounds. Police believe second victim had stopped by to give Verno a check—it was Friday afternoon and Verno was expecting a check—and the second murder was not planned. The Verno murder was definitely planned. No crime scene evidence, other than the rope. No blood samples from anyone other than the two victims. No fibers, no prints, no forensics, and no witnesses. Another clean site—too clean. Active investigation with little word to the press. File is being tightly sealed—thus no photos, no autopsy reports. As you well know, these always take time.
KL paused to give Jeri time to respond. She shook her head in frustration as she remembered her often futile efforts to go through police files that had been gathering dust for years. As was always the case, the fewer clues the investigators had, the more zealous their protection of their files. They didn’t want anyone to know of their paltry progress.
She wrote: What do you know about the rope and the knot?
Method and motive. The first was in plain sight for the detectives to ponder and the lab technicians to analyze. The second, though, could take weeks and months to track down.
KL replied: I have the report filed by the state crime lab with the FBI clearinghouse. The rope is described as nylon, green in color, 3/8 inch, a 30 inch section, tied and secured in place and left behind, obviously. There is no mention of a knot, tourniquet, ratchet, or any device to hold the rope in place. No photos were attached to the report. The crime is obviously unsolved, the investigation is open and in full swing, so most of the relevant details are being guarded by the police. Standard procedure. The old stonewall.
Jeri walked to her kitchen and took a diet soda from the fridge. She popped the top, took a drink, and returned to the sofa and her laptop. She wrote: Okay, I’m in. Send what you have. Thanks.
My pleasure. In fifteen minutes.
* * *
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Driving along the Gulf Coast on Interstate 10, Mobile was only an hour from Biloxi, but the two towns were in different states, different worlds. Mobile’s Press-Register had few readers next door, and Biloxi’s Sun Herald had even fewer subscribers in Alabama.
Jeri was not surprised that the Mobile press had not covered a double murder sixty miles away. She opened her laptop, turned on her security VPN, and began searching. On Saturday, October 19, the front page of the Sun Herald was covered with breaking news of the twin homicides. Mike Dunwoody was a well-known builder around Biloxi and along the Gulf Coast. There was a photo of Mike taken from his company’s website. He left behind his wife, Marsha, two children, and three grandchildren. His funeral arrangements were incomplete when the story was published.