The Judge's List (The Whistler #2)(94)

Jeri collapsed and buried her face in her hands. Lacy was too stunned to say anything.

Vidovich went on, “He checked himself in early yesterday morning and they found him dead in his room about three hours ago. Our agents there have confirmed everything.”

Allie asked, “What about prints?”

“Not so sure. I just got a video from one of our agents there. Do you want to see it?”

“Of what?” Lacy asked.

“Our man in rehab. There’s one part that’s pretty graphic.”

Jeri wiped her eyes, bit a lip, said, “I want to see it.”

Agent Murray pressed some buttons on a tablet and the video began on a big screen behind Vidovich. He moved out of the way as they gawked at the image taken with a smartphone. Bannick had not been moved and was lying face-up, eyes closed, unshaven, mouth half open, a white liquid leaking from one corner, dead as a doornail. The camera moved slowly down his body and stopped at his hands, which had been placed next to each other over his crotch.

Vidovich narrated, “Probably dipped his fingers in an acid right before he died.”

Allie mumbled just loud enough to be heard, “That sonofabitch.”

The camera zoomed in close on the fingers and Lacy looked away.

Vidovich said, “You asked about prints. We may have a problem. The damage is obviously substantial and the wounds will not heal, not now anyway. Looks like he knew exactly what he was doing.”

Lacy asked, “Can you stop it right there?”

Agent Suarez froze the video. Lacy said, “So, let’s go slow here. He apparently tried to mutilate his fingers to avoid getting printed, which I assume is possible even after death.”

Agent Neff said, “Yes, it happens all the time, assuming the hands and fingers are in decent shape.”

“Okay. So, assuming he wanted to destroy his prints, and assuming that he had already altered them in some way—wouldn’t it be reasonable to assume he knew about the partial thumb print?”

Vidovich smiled and said, “Exactly. Somehow Bannick knew we had a print.”

They looked at Jeri and she shook her head. “No idea.”

Allie asked, “Why would he care? If he’s planning a suicide anyway, why would he worry about getting caught?”

Jeri replied, “Now you’re trying to think like Bannick. He had a death wish, which is not unusual for serial killers. They can’t stop what they’re doing on their own volition, so they want someone else to stop them. The ruined reputation. The disgrace to the memory of his parents. The loss of everything he had worked for.”

Vidovich said, “Some of the more famous killers had strong death wishes. Bundy, Gacy. It’s not at all unusual.”

The video ended. Jeri asked, “Could you please go back to the beginning?” Suarez pressed buttons and there was Bannick’s ghostly face again. Jeri said, “Just freeze it right there. I want to see him dead. I’ve waited a long time.”

Vidovich glanced at Lacy and Allie. After a pause, he continued. “We could have a messy situation brewing here. Evidently he left a new will and some specific instructions, wants to be cremated immediately and his ashes scattered over the mountains out there. How nice. We, of course, want to preserve the body so we can try like hell to get a thumb print. The problem is that he’s not exactly in our custody. You can’t arrest a corpse. Our warrant expired the moment he died. I just spoke with Legal in Washington and they’re scratching their heads.”

“You can’t allow him to be cremated,” Lacy said. “Get a court order.”

“Evidently it’s not that simple. Which court? Florida, New Mexico? There’s no law requiring a dead person to be transported back home for a burial. This guy planned everything and ordered his executor to cremate him out there with no autopsy.”

Jeri stared at the still shot of the corpse, shook her head, and said, “Even from the grave, he’s disrupting our lives.”

“But it’s over, Jeri,” Lacy said, touching her on the arm.

“It’ll never be over now. Bannick will never be brought to justice. He got away with it, Lacy.”

“No. He’s dead and he won’t kill again.”

Jeri snorted and looked away. “Let’s get out of here.”



* * *



—

Allie dropped them off at Lacy’s apartment and went to his. He had been summoned to Orlando for work but, in a rather testy conversation, had informed his supervisor that he needed a couple of days at home.

The women sat in the den and tried to absorb even more drama. What could be next? What could top the news of Bannick’s death?

If there was never a match for the partial thumb print, then there would never be physical evidence linking him to the murders of Verno and Dunwoody.

As for the other murders, they had only motive and method. Convicting him with such flimsy evidence would be impossible. And, now that he was dead, no police—local, state, or federal—would waste time pursuing him. Their cases had been cold for decades anyway. Why get excited now? Jeri was certain they would welcome the news of Bannick’s probable guilt, inform the families, and happily close the files.

His comments, denials, deflections, and assertions the previous Saturday in a dark cabin deep in the Alabama countryside were of little help to the police. None of what he said could ever be admitted in court, and he had been careful not to expressly admit any wrongdoing. He was, after all, a trial judge.