Ruins of War by John A. Connell Page A

carried it, so that leaves transporting by car, wagon, or cart.”
    Mason pointed to the center of the alley. “There’s a mix of tire and wagon-wheel tracks.”
    “I just can’t see the killer coming by wagon with a cut-up body in the back, in the middle of the night, through MP patrols and checkpoints.”
    Mason shrugged. “This is a big city, and he could know enough backstreets to pull it off. Could be he has an after-curfew pass or permit. If he came by car, it means he’d have to be with the army or the military government.”
    “And you think he came down this alley and went up the fire escape?”
    “He couldn’t have gone in the front. Too many witnesses.” Mason pointed to a hole in the base of the factory wall thirty feet from where they were standing. “Then there’s that hole.”
    As if on cue, an MP emerged from the hole and said, “Mr. Collins, the engineer would like to see you. If you’ll follow me.”
    Mason and Wolski ducked low to enter the hole in the wall, then climbed down the rubble to reach the basement level. They followed the MP through several corridors before coming to an open area with a series of boilers. The engineer stood at the base of the same column to which the killer had lashed his victim. They had to negotiate heaps of concrete slabs fallen from the floors above to join Lieutenant Edwards, the engineer.
    The daylight made little difference in the dark factory; the place still felt gloomy and oppressive. Work lights had been distributed throughout the crime scene, but Edwards still had to use his flashlight to scan the floors above them.
    “Begging your pardon, Chief,” Edwards said with a Tennessee drawl, “but I don’t think the killer used the fire escape to carry the body up there. It’d have been easier to lift the corpse from down here.”He pointed his flashlight at the spikes driven into the exposed flooring of the fourth floor. “He probably hooked pulleys on those spikes up there, then attached the body to ropes down here and hoisted it up to a spot on the column and tied off the lines.”
    Mason nodded. Much as he’d guessed. “How do you think he got up there to secure the body to the column?”
    “Well, it’s easier to drop down from above than to lift your own weight. I’d say he rappelled down to the spot, either from the fourth floor or the next one up, and grabbed on with his legs. That way he’d have free hands to lash the body to the column.”
    “It took some know-how to rig that all up,” Wolski said.
    “Not really,” Edwards said. “It’s pretty simple if you have even some basic mechanical or engineering skills. Welders and maintenance workers use these kinds of rigs all the time for hard-to-reach areas.”
    Mason nodded. “All right. Thanks, Edwards.”
    “Don’t mention it,” Edwards said and left.
    “Well, that goes a long way to explain
how
he did it, just not why,” Wolski said.
    Manganella called down to Mason from the second floor. “Chief, word came in that Major Treborn has a preliminary report for you on the autopsy.”
    As Mason headed for the stairs he said to Wolski, “You stay here and coordinate the canvassing by our boys and the German police.”
    “I’d like to go along.”
    Mason started to object, but Wolski added, “Like you said, I’ve got a lot to learn about homicide. Watch and learn, remember?”
    “You might change your mind after your first time at an autopsy.”
    Wolski jumped down off the pile of rubble and followed Mason down a maintenance corridor. “The message he left on the door talks about saints and hell. Must be a religious guy.”
    “Could be,” Mason said. “But I think the message refers to his own personal hell. One he’s desperately trying to escape. He doesn’tkill out of perverted lust or thrills. He doesn’t torture for pleasure or power over his victims.”
    “Maybe he’ll move on. Hit a different city for each killing. It’d be easier to stay under the radar that