The 9th Judgment

I crouched next to the body of Elaine Marone. As Chi said, there were bluish finger marks on the woman's right wrist, and I counted five distinct bullet holes in her sweater. Elaine Marone hadn't just put up a struggle. She'd fought like hell.

And then the screaming started, a heartrending howl twisting up through the concrete cavern.

"Laineeee. Lilllly."

Oh God, no.

Footsteps pounded on concrete. Jacobi yelled, "Stop! Freeze right where you are!"

It was a clear warning, but the footsteps kept coming.

Chapter 40

I RAN DOWN the incline toward the third floor, then rounded the turn to see Tracchio and Jacobi tackling a big man wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. The man was a bruiser, a charging bull on full adrenaline. He shook off Tracchio and Jacobi as if they were small dogs, then continued running up the ramp toward the crime scene. It looked like he was going to blast right through me.

Jacobi yelled, "FREEZE," then pulled his Taser from his belt. I shouted, "Jacobi, NO! Don't do it, don't-" But I knew he had no choice. I heard the electric chattering of the stun gun, and the big man was jerked off his feet, going down as if his spinal cord had been cut. He flopped and slid down the incline, a five-second ride, and during that time he was paralyzed and unable to scream.

Jacobi caught up to him, shouting, "Jesus Christ, look what you made me do! Are you done now? Are you done?"

The rattle of the Taser stopped and the fallen man's horrific sobbing began-and he couldn't stop. I stooped beside him as Jacobi twisted back his arms and snapped on the cuffs.

"I'm Sergeant Boxer," I said, patting the man down. I lifted his wallet from his back pocket and checked his face against his driver's license photo. The man was Francis Marone.

"Let me UP. I have to go to them!"

I said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Marone, not right now."

"What happened? Are they okay?" Marone choked out. "I just spoke to Elaine." He sobbed. "I had to stop for cigarettes, but I told her I'd meet her at the car."

"You were talking to her on the phone just now?"

"I heard her say to someone, 'What do you want?' And then I heard-oh God, tell me she's okay."

I said again that I was sorry as Marone cried, "NO, not my girls. Please, please, I have to go to them."

Francis Marone was breaking my heart-and this was the savage part: if we ever expected to catch, let alone indict, the killer, we had to protect the crime scene from this man.

A forest of legs had grown up around me-Tracchio, Conklin, Chi, McNeil. I asked Mr. Marone if there was a friend or relative I could call for him, but he wasn't listening. Still, I had to know: "Mr. Marone, can you think of anyone who may have wanted to harm your wife?"

Marone searched my face with his bloodshot eyes before shouting, "I operate a cement mixer! Elaine does PR for a toy store! We're nobodies. Nobodies. "

Marone was bleeding from bad scrapes on his forearms. I put my hand on the poor guy's shoulder and stood aside as Jacobi and Tracchio got him to his feet.

"I didn't want to hurt you, man," Jacobi said.

I signaled to officers Noonan and Mackey, asking them to drive Marone to the hospital. I promised Marone I'd meet him there as soon as I could. Then I got out of the way as Claire's van tore up the ramp.

Chapter 41

CLAIRE WAS STOWING her camera by the time I made it back up to the fourth tier. She looked into my face, and I saw my own horror reflected in hers. We opened our arms and held on to each other, and this time I didn't care who thought I was weak.

"These babies. I can't take the babies," I said.

"It's not going to be all right," Claire said into my shoulder. "Even when you catch the bastard, it's not going to be all right. Not ever again. You know that, right?"

We broke apart as one of Claire's assistants asked her if it was okay to start bagging the victims' hands. The grim work of deconstructing the crime had begun. I said to Claire, "Did you see the letters on the windshield?"

"Uh-huh. CWF. That's another kink in the pattern. The 'C' and the 'W' are still next to each other, so the 'F' is moving around. And that's all I've got except for two more DBs to work up who shouldn't be dead."

Claire pulled at my arm, and I stepped out of the way as Clapper's crime scene-mobile steamed up the rise and stopped beside the ME's van. CSIs poured out of the back, and Clapper stood over the sickening tableau and said to no one in particular, "Makes you wonder if the Good Lord has just given up on humanity."

Cameras flashed and video was shot of the bodies and of the bullet dings in the car both inside and out. Slugs were collected for evidence. Markers were set out, sketches were drawn, and notes were taken.