Victims

CHAPTER
34

Drapes were drawn on the window overlooking Bedford Drive. Low-voltage light from a desk lamp turned the pale aqua walls grayish blue.

The walnut desk was bare. The same diplomas remained affixed to the walls.

He had no further need for them, had moved on to another role.

In reduced light, the cubist print of fruit and bread looked drab and cheap. The Scandinavian chairs had been nudged closer together, set for an intimate chat.

One chair was bare.

Something occupied its mate.

Milo flicked on the ceiling light and we had a look.

A mason jar filled with clear, greasy liquid was propped against the chair-back.

Floating inside were two grayish round things.

Milo gloved up, kneeled, lifted the jar. One of the orbs shifted, exposing additional color: pale blue dot centered by a black sphere. Pinkish strands streamed like tiny worms from the other side.

He shifted the jar again and the second orb bounced and turned, showed the same decoration, the same fuzzy pink filaments.

A pair of eyeballs. Human. Oversized pearl onions bobbing in a horrific cocktail.

Milo put the jar where it had originally sat, called for a crime scene crew, priority.

As he radioed the others, I noticed a discordant detail across the room.

The largest diploma, placed dead center behind the desk chair, had been altered. When I’d seen it, it had verified Bernhard Shacker’s doctorate from the University of Louvain.

Now a sheet of white paper blocked that boast.

I walked over.

Glue marks were evident at the periphery of the glass, bubbling the underside of the sheet.

Blank, white rectangle, but for a single message:?