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Ella's soul withered at the sight. Anotherone. Another poor sap who'd drawn the short straw when the killer came calling.She stalked closer as every detail seared itself into her eyeballs. Handscuffed to the fountain's upper spires. Slumped head, limp torso, knees on theelevated base of the fountain.
Close, so goddamn close and still toolate.
‘Good God,’ Luca said. ‘This is our guy?Where are the stocks?’
Ella didn’t have an answer. Across theway, she spotted Harland jawing with a uniform, both of them looking likethey’d rather be drinking poison. She angled in their direction.
‘Chief,’ she called. ‘Talk to me.’
Harland swiveled to face her, craggy mugset in stone. ‘Freakshow. Grade-A goat rodeo. But at least we got a witnessthis time.’ He jerked his thumb at the uniform. ‘Meet Officer Macklin. He's theone who stumbled on this mess and got an eyeful of our sicko in action.’
‘You saw the perp?’ Ella asked. She sizedhim up. The guy was shook, no doubt about it.
‘I saw something,’ Macklin said.
‘Walk me through it, officer.’
Macklin swallowed hard. ‘I was on patrol,keeping an eye out like the Chief said. Anyway, I spotted this guy pushin'someone in a wheelchair. Struck me as strange, y'know? Wrong place, wrongtime.’
Wheelchair, Ella thought. That’show he’s transporting the victims.
‘Go on.’
‘So I followed, saw them duck down thisalley. By the time I caught up...’ Macklin trailed off, falling victim to afull-body shudder.
‘Take your time,’ Ella said, not unkindly.Pushing too hard now would only jam the guy up worse.
After a beat, Macklin forged on. ‘I foundthe vic, chained up. And the perp.’
‘You see his face?’
'No, ma'am. He had a mask on.'
Behind her, Ella heard Luca's sharp intakeof breath. Felt him go stiff as a board at the M-word. She reached back,brushed her fingers against his wrist. He caught them for a second, a silentthank you. Then it was back to business.
‘What kind of mask?’
‘White. Plain, but with like, a frowningmouth. Black eye holes.’
Ella chewed the inside of her cheek,pieces clicking together in the jigsaw of her brain. Same get-up Aleister'sclient had been sporting. The freak with the stock fetish.
She traded a loaded glance with Luca, awhole conversation in the quirk of a brow. If Aleister was on the level abouthis mystery commissioner, then they were back to square zilch on leads.Aleister Morgan had been telling the truth, and given this body had shown upwhile he was under interrogation, that meant he was innocent.
Macklin was still yapping in a stream ofself-flagellation. ‘I chased him, I swear. But the bastard was greasedlightning. Disappeared.’
Harland jumped in, ‘I’ve got guys scoutingthe area. Every direction. The wheelchair he used is behind the fountain rightnow. The guy didn’t have a chance to take it with him.’
Ella looked over, clocked it. A cheapblack chair parked in the shadows. ‘Nobody touch it until forensics get here.If we wanna bag this guy’s prints, that chair is our best option.’
‘Roger,’ Harland said. ‘Techs should behere in ten.’
Ella turned back to Macklin. ‘Good jobhere.’
'Yeah, right,' he said.
‘Seriously. You got eyes on him. That’sthe closest we’ve come so far. Keep your head up.’
It was cold comfort, flimsier than astreetwalker's alibi. But it was all she had to offer.
