The Sculptor

Chapter 18

The FBI Field Office. Boston. Ten minutes past ten.

Bill Burrell sat at the conference table scowling into his coffee. He needed a smoke—needed it bad—but did not want to step outside and risk missing the linkup with Quantico. Markham and the art history professor were running a little late—an accident on the inbound artery, Sullivan had told him. A little luck, Burrell thought, as the Boston office was having an embarrassing bit of interference with their video feed that day—something about sunspots, his tech guy had said, or a faulty coaxial cable. Either way, Burrell was not in the mood to be understanding. No, the briefing from Rachel Sullivan that morning—the news about Gabriel Banford, about the adrenaline link—did not sit well with him. And the SAC knew instinctively that the upcoming teleconference with Quantico would be no better, for whereas Sam Markham was still holding out hope that the FBI had only three victims on their hands, Bulldog Burrell had a bad feeling that this son of a bitch Michelangelo Killer had more than just the blood of Banford, Wenick, and Campbell on his.

“Sorry, Bill,” said Markham, entering. “Had to stop by in-processing to get the paperwork started for Dr. Hildebrant. Cathy, you remember Special Agent in Charge Bill Burrell?”

There were others seated around the large conference table, but only Burrell and Rachel Sullivan rose to greet her.

“Yes, of course,” Cathy said. “A pleasure to see you again. And you, too, Special Agent Sullivan.”

“Call me Rachel.”

“And you can call me Bill,” said Burrell. “Please, be seated.”

An FBI agent to whom Cathy was introduced—and whose name she immediately forgot—vacated his seat for her at the far end of the table, and Cathy and Markham took their places across from Burrell and Sullivan—a large video screen on the wall before them. Cathy suddenly noticed another man on all fours—his rear poking out of a closet that seamlessly blended in with the rest of the walnut paneled walls.

“You’ll have to forgive us,” began Burrell, “but we’re having a bit of technical difficulties this morning. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee or something?”

“No thank you. Sam—I mean, Special Agent Markham already offered.”

“Then he already briefed you on what to expect today?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Good,” said Burrell. “First off then, on behalf of the Federal Bureau of Investigation I would like to officially welcome you on board. I want to also thank you personally for all your help thus far, and for agreeing to work with us as we move forward on this case. You’ve been an invaluable asset to us in developing the profile for this killer, Cathy. I assume that, on your ride up from Providence, Sam here brought you up to date on where things stand at this point? Told you about the development regarding your former student Gabriel Banford, and the possibility of his being linked to this psychopath the press is calling The Michelangelo Killer?”

“Yes.”

“Rachel here is overseeing that end of things. She will be working on the Banford case file with the hopes of finding a more concrete link between him and the killer—mutual acquaintances, Internet records from the postings on Craigslist, that kind of thing. Her team will also be looking into all the unsolved missing person cases in Rhode Island and its immediate vicinity dating from the Banford murder to the present—cases involving other young men who this Michelangelo Killer might have abducted and experimented with before he got to Wenick and Campbell.”

“You see, Cathy,” said Markham, “serial killers tend to consciously select their victims from one particular demographic—victims who meet certain criteria that, for whatever reason, gratify the serial killer’s deeper psychological motivations to murder—motivations of which the killer might be either unconscious or sometimes fully aware.”

“That’s right,” said Burrell. “And given the profile that you and Markham have developed for this Michelangelo Killer so far, the murder of young males most likely is this guy’s MO. Therefore, Sullivan and her team will be specifically looking into the disappearance of young male prostitutes and drifters who were known to reside in Rhode Island and the surrounding area over the last six years. Not only does this fit the profile of Gabriel Banford, who we know had begun stealing and prostituting himself to help support his drug habit, but also these types of victims tend to be safer targets for serial killers in that, because so many of them move around from one place to another, their disappearances usually go unreported—and thus, in this case, would draw little attention to The Michelangelo Killer while he developed his craft.”

“Yes,” said Sullivan. “As Agent Markham probably informed you, we’re going to begin working from the premise that, after the Banford murder, The Michelangelo Killer would have wanted to develop his technique for preserving and painting his figures before the public unveiling of his Bacchus nearly six years later. However, we have another team working from the angle that the killer might have already been familiar with embalming, and thus they’ll be investigating funeral parlors, morticians, taxidermists, and others who not only would have that kind of working knowledge, but who would also have access to the types of chemicals needed to preserve a corpse. It’s those preliminary findings from the FBI labs at Quantico on which we’ll be briefed today. Once we have an idea of exactly how the killer went about preserving Campbell and Wenick, we’ll have much more to go on.”

“All set, Chief,” said the man whose behind had been sticking out of the wall. Cathy recognized him from Watch Hill—the “tech guy” who had set her up with the laptop that day.

Burrell nodded and the large video screen on the wall flickered to life—two men seated at a table, one in a suit, one in a white lab coat.

“We got a visual on you now, gentlemen,” said Burrell. “How about you?”

“Yes, Bill,” said the man in the suit. “We can see you fine.”

“Good. You know everybody else here, Alan, but I want to introduce you to Dr. Catherine Hildebrant. She’s agreed to come on board as a consultant in the case and will be assisting Sam down in Providence. Cathy, this is Alan Gates, chief of Behavioral Analysis Unit-2 at Quantico. Next to him is Dr. Gilbert Morris. He heads up the Chemistry Unit in Scientific Analysis back at the FBI Laboratory.”

The two men nodded their hellos.

“What have we got, gentlemen?”

“I talked to Special Agent Markham earlier this morning, Bill,” said Unit Chief Alan Gates, the man in the suit. “He’s updated me on the latest developments, so I’ll defer to him for the rest of this conference. Sam is officially in charge now from our end, and has expressed his utmost confidence in your team there—specifically Agent Sullivan and her outstanding work as coordinator between your office and the NCAVC.”

“Good,” said Burrell. “Dr. Morris?”

“Thank you, Bill. I’ve been instructed to tell you that the scientists in the Trace Evidence Unit will be submitting their report on the wooden base and the tree stump to your offices later today.”

“Fine.”

“With regard to Scientific Analysis, one of my assistants is preparing a breakdown of the specifics from each subunit as we speak, but I’ll give you a general overview of what we’ve found thus far.” The man in the white lab coat shuffled a pile of papers. “First off, we’ve found nothing more in the chemical makeup of the epoxy compound that was used to sculpt the lion skin, the bowl, and the figures’ hair that would identify it as anything other than the TAP brand Magic-Sculpt commonly sold on the Internet or in the arts and crafts stores in your area.”

“Good,” said Burrell. “I’ve already got people working on that angle.”

“The Toxicology Unit, in conjunction with the state medical examiner in Rhode Island, has confirmed that the high concentrations of synthetic epinephrine found in Tommy Campbell’s tissue did indeed lead to his death. Five years ago, we might have missed this, Bill, as the chemicals the killer used in the preservation process altered the base cell structure significantly. However, we still might not be able to get a pure enough sample of the epinephrine to allow us to trace the drug to a specific source. The same goes for the high-powered diazepam and ketamine. We’ll keep you updated as that investigation progresses.”

“Right.”

“Here in our labs at Quantico, we’ve been able to determine that the killer preserved his victims building on a technique called Plastination—a process where water and lipid tissues are replaced by curable polymers.”

“Plastination?” asked Burrell.

“Yes. A process of anatomical preservation being used more and more around the world, but first developed in the late seventies by a German scientist named Dr. Gunther von Hagens. There have been a number of his Body Worlds exhibitions in the last decade or so, but a similar show from a Chinese company recently drew a lot of worldwide attention and criticism. I’ve included those details in my report, but the general character of both the German and Chinese exhibitions is the same—a group of skinless, sometimes partially dissected cadavers posed in lifelike positions and put on display for public viewing. Individual plasticized body parts are also sold to medical and veterinary schools all over the world, but are nonetheless quite expensive.”

“So what do you think, Alan? Our man might have once been a med student? Might have even worked for one of those companies?”

“Maybe,” said Unit Chief Gates. “But unfortunately, Bill, the information about the Plastination process is readily available on the Internet. Anyone with a basic knowledge of chemistry and the desire—as well as the time and means to fulfill that desire—could, with a little trial and error, figure out the process himself.”

“That’s right,” said Dr. Morris. “It appears the killer preserved his victims by first removing their internal organs and then embalming them with a formaldehyde solution. Then the body was placed in a bath of acetone, which—under freezing conditions—would draw out the water and replace itself in the cells. Next would come the bath of the liquid polymer, in this case silicone rubber. By creating a vacuum, the acetone will boil and vaporize at a very low temperature, drawing the liquid polymer into the cells behind it. While the bodies were still supple, the killer then stuffed the cavities, stretched the bodies into the desired position on the metal frame—probably using wires to help him pose his figures—and left them to dry. Keep in mind, Bill, that the plastic must be cured, and most likely the killer hardened it using heat or ultraviolet light.”

“Jesus Christ,” said Burrell.

“Yes,” said Gates. “Our boy has quite an operation going. He has a large space—a studio, if you will—in which to work. Must also have quite a lot of money socked away. I suppose some of the equipment such as the ultraviolet lamps and the vacuum sealed tub needed for the acetone and polymer baths could be jury-rigged, but the amount of time for experimentation, as well as the time it would take to preserve each body, even under ideal conditions, is staggering—estimated anywhere from eight to twelve hundred man hours.”

“So we’re looking at a guy who has a lot of time on his hands? A guy who is perhaps independently wealthy?”

“Probably,” said Gates. “If you take into account the timeline between Campbell’s disappearance and the appearance of the bodies down at Watch Hill, you’re looking at a total of just over three months. Even with all that time off, needless to say, our boy hasn’t been getting much sleep lately.”

The room was silent.

“Sales or thefts of large quantities of acetone,” said Gates, “as well as the silicone rubber needed for the Plastination process will be a good place for our teams here to begin. We’ll take care of tracking things down on that end.”

Burrell nodded.

“Next,” Dr. Morris began again, “the Paints and Polymers subunit found a match in our database for the chemical compound of the paint used on the figures of Campbell and Wenick—a mixture of Starfire brand acrylic enamel auto paints, including a primer and a clear coat. Like the epoxy, this brand of automotive paint can be found at many dealers throughout the country and on the Internet. The paint was clearly applied to the bodies in many layers, and by using some type of sprayer. However, mixed into the paint was a white powder that the General Chemistry subunit identified as ground marble.”

“Marble?” asked Burrell. “You mean like the kind of marble used in statues?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean, Bill. Nonfoliated, calcite-based metamorphic rock with the molecular makeup, color, and density identical to what our databases identified as unique to and originating from a specific quarry in Italy.”

“Carrara,” said Cathy absently, impulsively.

“That’s right, Dr. Hildebrant,” said Gilbert Morris. “The ground marble found in the paint was undoubtedly quarried from Carrara, Italy.”

“How did you know it was Carrara, Cathy?” asked Burrell.

“Well,” she began, “Carrara is a small town in Italy about sixty miles north of Florence. The marble quarried there has been a favorite of sculptors dating back to Ancient Rome, and many of the city’s greatest monuments were carved from it—as were countless sculptures during the Renaissance. Even more so than his own quarries in Pietrasanta, Michelangelo prized Carrara marble above all other types of stone because of its beauty and consistency. Indeed, it was from blocks of Carrara marble that Michelangelo carved his most famous masterpieces.”

“And they’re still quarrying marble there today?” asked Rachel Sullivan.

“Yes. As far as I know, Carrara marble is still regarded as the finest, and statues carved from it are exported all over the world. However, the marble itself is very expensive.”

“So,” said Burrell, “it appears this Michelangelo Killer went through a great deal of effort and expense not only to get Tommy Campbell for his Bacchus, but also in acquiring the marble powder from Carrara. This might be our best lead so far. Sullivan, you’ll assign someone to start looking into the import records for all the Carrara marble coming into Rhode Island? See if you can track down sales records for vendors who deal specifically with Carrara marble statues?”

“Will do.”

“You should probably look into any reports of statue or marble thefts in the area over the last six years, too. Maybe our man got his marble that way—stole a statue or something and ground it up himself.”

“Right.”

As Dr. Morris went on to give the report from the Metallurgy subunit on the sculpture’s frame, Cathy glanced uneasily over to Sam Markham. Among his paperwork from the Providence office, Markham had also brought with him his copy of Slumbering in the Stone. Cathy could not see to which page he had turned, but she knew exactly what he was looking for. And as if reading her mind, Markham looked up from his book to meet its author’s gaze.

“I think Dr. Hildebrant would like to say something,” he said. “Go ahead, Cathy. It’s about Michelangelo’s Bacchus, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Cathy said—the room at once was silent. “Although Michelangelo carved his most famous sculptures from blocks of Carrara marble, for his Bacchus he used a flawed block of Roman marble. That is, marble that was not quarried from Carrara.”

“So?” asked Burrell. Cathy looked to Markham, who—nodding understandingly—smiled back at her with his eyes.

“Go ahead, Cathy.”

“Well,” she said, “given what we know about The Michelangelo Killer thus far—about his obsession with detail, about his desire to embody his Bacchus in the historical milieu of the original—it seems strange to me that he would knowingly and erroneously use Carrara marble powder for his statue when other types of flawed, low-grade marble of the Roman variety would be readily available to him for much cheaper.”

“I don’t follow,” said Burrell. “And what’s the difference really? The guy is obviously so obsessed with being like Michelangelo that he wanted to use the Carrara marble powder simply because it was Michelangelo’s favorite. Maybe he wanted to improve upon the original—make his Bacchus from better stuff than Michelangelo’s.”

“What Dr. Hildebrant is saying,” said Markham, “is that The Michelangelo Killer wouldn’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because, from what we can tell about this guy, if he had originally planned on acquiring marble powder for his Bacchus, he would not have settled for anything other than a type of marble powder more in line with that of Michelangelo’s original. Thus, Dr. Hildebrant is telling you that The Michelangelo Killer used the Carrara marble most likely because he already had it—most likely because he had originally planned on using it for something else. Something more appropriate.”

“What?” asked Bill Burrell.

As Sam Markham held up his copy of Slumbering in the Stone, Cathy and the rest of the room saw the page to which he had turned.

It was just as Cathy had suspected.

Sam Markham was holding up a picture of Michelangelo’s David.