Harlot's Moon by Edward Gorman Page A

to what Jackson was doing in the park, adding to the speculation that she was killed elsewhere and dropped in the park.
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    The clipping went on to say that close friends of Jackson's had said that she had been acting 'stressed out' lately, though none offered an explanation of why.
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    MAN'S BODY FOUND IN CAR
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Police Chief Michael Conroy held a press conference Thursday afternoon to confirm the name of the homicide victim discovered the night before. He had been stabbed to death, and his left ear had been cut off.
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Conroy said that Ronald Swanson, 56, of Cedar Rapids, was found in the front seat of his car where it was parked behind the Lariat Lounge on A Ave N.W.
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Tavern patrons said that Swanson had spent three hours in the tavern and had been drinking heavily.
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    The story concluded by noting that Swanson was an insurance company executive and a father of three. Services were pending.
    Interesting.
    Tawanna Jackson's eyes had been cut out. Ronald Swanson's ear had been cut off. And Father Daly's tongue had been cut out. There had to be a connection here.
    The FBI taught me to analyze crimes, to do psychological profiles on criminals from what they did and didn't do, from what they left behind and what they took with them. Now, automatically, whenever I hear of a crime I start analyzing on the basis of what I know: what kind of person would have done this?
    Why?
    When a murdered man's possessions included news stories about two other murdered people, there ought to be a connection. There was something nagging my brain but staying just out of reach. And I wasn't surprised. Count up the sleep I'd had in the last two days and it didn't add up to much. It was time to rest, let the back of my mind work on those niggling things and bring them to the surface.
    The phone rang just as I was carrying the dishes over to the sink.
    My classically-striped cat Tasha was on the couch waiting for me to join her for a few hours of TV watching. Crystal and Tess, the other two cats, were lying side by side in the armchair, sleeping.
    I sat down on the couch, lifted Tasha up on to my lap, and then answered the phone.
    "Hello?"
    Silence.
    "Hello?"
    If they don't identify themselves after the second hello, I always hang up. I hung up.
    Tasha and I watched some old sit-coms on Nick At Nite and then I went in and got ready to go to bed, where Felice already was.
    The phone rang again.
    This time I picked it up on the nightstand next to the bed.
    "Hello?"
    Silence.
    "Hello?"
    Still nothing.
    I hung up. Now Felice was propped up on one elbow, looking at me.
    I shook my head. Don't answer.
    Okay. She flattened herself under the cover again, but I didn't think she went back to sleep.
    When I came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, my mouth smarting from the nuclear mouthwash I use, the phone rang once again.
    This time when I picked up, I said nothing.
    Finally, a woman said: "Hello."
    "Who is this?"
    "I'd like to speak with Mr. Payne."
    "Who is this?"
    Silence.
    "My name is Eleanor Wilson. Ellie."
    "This is Robert Payne. Did you call here earlier?"
    Hesitation. Then: "Yes. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hung up those times. I was just - nervous."
    "What can I do for you, Mrs Wilson?"
    "You sound angry. I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot."
    We always like to think that the beautiful ones are self-possessed and in control. She was anything but.
    "I'm afraid to say — well, what I called to say."
    "I'm not an ogre, Mrs Wilson. Just say it."
    "Call me Ellie. Please."
    I sighed. "Ellie, look. Why don't you just get to the point and then we'll see if there's any way I can help you."
    "You still sound angry."
    I whistled a couple bars of Moon River.
    She laughed. "I knew you'd have a sense of humor. I saw that in your eyes tonight. You know, at the rectory"
    "Now that I'm in such a good mood, Ellie, why don't you tell me why you called?"
    "They'll think I did it, won't they?"
    "The police?"
    "Yes."
    "Think you killed