a long way, a Senator now. It's sad about his grandkids being so sick. Just breaks my heart every time Virginia comes around."
Cassie nodded absently as he spoke, her focus on the photo. Virginia smiled for the camera, her hair perfectly coiffed, makeup in place, the image of the loving mother. But Charlie stared out at the camera, lunging, as if desperate to escape his mother's arms.
"Your money's going for a good cause," Andy assured her. She looked at the photo again. Surely Charlie was only squirming like a normal toddler?
What if he wasn't? Cassie felt like she was sinking, mired in quicksand that was closing fast over her head. What if everyone was wrong about Virginia Ulrich?
CHAPTER 5
"Hey pardner, how's it going?" Jimmy Dolan called out as Drake entered the squad room on the fourth floor of the Zone Seven station house the next morning. "Good to have you back."
Drake winced at his partner's bonhomie. Because of him, Miller had both of them working cold case files, obviously not trusting Drake to go it alone. By rights Jimmy should be pissed as hell for being taken off the streets and forced into babysitting duty.
Instead, Jimmy wrapped his beefy ex-marine's hand around a dusty homicide binder and handed it to him. "This is the one we should be working."
"You've already gone through them?" Drake had expected to take at least a day combing the files, seeing which cases had any viable leads worth following.
"Didn't have to. I've been wanting another crack at this one for a long time."
Drake opened the murder book. The seam of a manila envelope had worn through, and crime scene photos spilled out. He spread them over his desk.
Jimmy leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head. "Me and your dad worked that one, nine years ago now, right before he made sergeant."
Drake nodded, his attention riveted by stark black and white photos of the body of a young child. A girl, maybe four or five, garroted and left on a muddy patch of grass. She wore a pale flannel nightgown bordered with ruffles and lace.
"Sofia Frantz. We kept coming back to her over and over, but we never got anywhere with it. Your dad thought it was the work of a serial, tried to tie it in with several other murders, but got nowhere."
"You try VICAP?" Drake asked, his eyes raking quickly over the photos, absorbing every detail. The FBI violent crimes database was supposed to pick up on patterns left behind by signature killers. He turned to the next photo, a more distant view of the crime scene, and was surprised to see that the muddy lawn was actually a playground.
"Yeah, more than once. But they couldn't find any pattern either. Want to see the others?" Jimmy slid a stack of photos across the desk. "Two girls, one boy and one woman. The oldest goes back eleven years, the most recent four years ago."
He looked up at that. His father had died seven years ago, so Jimmy must have continued working the case afterwards.
Jimmy read his thoughts and nodded. "This one's a ball buster. Might want to think twice before you dive in."
Too late. Drake sorted through the photos, taking the crime scenes one by one. Frantz was the second, nine years ago now. Two years before her was an older boy, Adam Cleary, six, found in identical circumstances but this time in the front of the Phipps' Conservatory, a well-traveled and well-lit area that attracted crowds of school tours and tourists every day.
"All in public places?" he asked without looking up from the boy's bloated face. Cleary was in his pajamas also.
"All but the woman, Regina Eades"
"Guy probably lives in the city proper, comfortable with the roads, knows how to get in and out of potentially congested areas fast." Drake continued cataloguing the carnage, turning to the next victim. A woman in her early thirties, killed fourteen months after Frantz. Nothing for four years, then another
Cassie nodded absently as he spoke, her focus on the photo. Virginia smiled for the camera, her hair perfectly coiffed, makeup in place, the image of the loving mother. But Charlie stared out at the camera, lunging, as if desperate to escape his mother's arms.
"Your money's going for a good cause," Andy assured her. She looked at the photo again. Surely Charlie was only squirming like a normal toddler?
What if he wasn't? Cassie felt like she was sinking, mired in quicksand that was closing fast over her head. What if everyone was wrong about Virginia Ulrich?
CHAPTER 5
"Hey pardner, how's it going?" Jimmy Dolan called out as Drake entered the squad room on the fourth floor of the Zone Seven station house the next morning. "Good to have you back."
Drake winced at his partner's bonhomie. Because of him, Miller had both of them working cold case files, obviously not trusting Drake to go it alone. By rights Jimmy should be pissed as hell for being taken off the streets and forced into babysitting duty.
Instead, Jimmy wrapped his beefy ex-marine's hand around a dusty homicide binder and handed it to him. "This is the one we should be working."
"You've already gone through them?" Drake had expected to take at least a day combing the files, seeing which cases had any viable leads worth following.
"Didn't have to. I've been wanting another crack at this one for a long time."
Drake opened the murder book. The seam of a manila envelope had worn through, and crime scene photos spilled out. He spread them over his desk.
Jimmy leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head. "Me and your dad worked that one, nine years ago now, right before he made sergeant."
Drake nodded, his attention riveted by stark black and white photos of the body of a young child. A girl, maybe four or five, garroted and left on a muddy patch of grass. She wore a pale flannel nightgown bordered with ruffles and lace.
"Sofia Frantz. We kept coming back to her over and over, but we never got anywhere with it. Your dad thought it was the work of a serial, tried to tie it in with several other murders, but got nowhere."
"You try VICAP?" Drake asked, his eyes raking quickly over the photos, absorbing every detail. The FBI violent crimes database was supposed to pick up on patterns left behind by signature killers. He turned to the next photo, a more distant view of the crime scene, and was surprised to see that the muddy lawn was actually a playground.
"Yeah, more than once. But they couldn't find any pattern either. Want to see the others?" Jimmy slid a stack of photos across the desk. "Two girls, one boy and one woman. The oldest goes back eleven years, the most recent four years ago."
He looked up at that. His father had died seven years ago, so Jimmy must have continued working the case afterwards.
Jimmy read his thoughts and nodded. "This one's a ball buster. Might want to think twice before you dive in."
Too late. Drake sorted through the photos, taking the crime scenes one by one. Frantz was the second, nine years ago now. Two years before her was an older boy, Adam Cleary, six, found in identical circumstances but this time in the front of the Phipps' Conservatory, a well-traveled and well-lit area that attracted crowds of school tours and tourists every day.
"All in public places?" he asked without looking up from the boy's bloated face. Cleary was in his pajamas also.
"All but the woman, Regina Eades"
"Guy probably lives in the city proper, comfortable with the roads, knows how to get in and out of potentially congested areas fast." Drake continued cataloguing the carnage, turning to the next victim. A woman in her early thirties, killed fourteen months after Frantz. Nothing for four years, then another