Phillip Margolin - Wild Justice

Jake Mullins, Mills's deputy, had blinked furiously for a few seconds before backing out of the room. The person who seemed the least affected by the horror in the refrigerator was Fred Scofield, the Milton County district attorney. Scofield, a heavy man tottering on the brink of obesity, had been in Vietnam and was a big-city DA before burning out and moving to the peace and seclusion of the mountain community of Cedar City.

What should we do, Fred? the sheriff asked.

Scofield was chewing on an unlit cigar and staring dispassionately at the heads. He turned his back to the refrigerator and addressed the shaken lawman.

I think we should clear out of here so we don't mess up the crime scene. Then you should get on the horn and have the state police send a forensic team up here ASAP.

They collected the deputy, whose complexion was as pale as the heads in the refrigerator. While Sheriff Mills phoned the state police and the deputy collapsed on the living room couch, Scofield led Bobby Vasquez outside onto the deck and lit up his cigar. The temperature was in the low thirties, but the cold country air was a welcome relief after the close, fetid smell in the makeshift operating room.

What brought you to this house of horrors, Detective?

Vasquez had worked on his story while waiting for the police, and he had it down pat. He figured he could get it past anyone if he could get it by the flinty district attorney.

I've been investigating an anonymous tip that a doctor named Vincent Cardoni was planning to sell two kilos of cocaine he had purchased from Martin Breach, a major narcotics dealer.

I know who Breach is, Scofield said.

The cocaine was supposed to be hidden in this house.

I assume you corroborated this tip before barging into Dr. Cardoni's domicile?

There was not much of a moon, but Scofield could see Vasquez's eyes in the light from the living room. He watched them carefully while Vasquez answered his question. The vice cop's gaze never wavered.

Art Prochaska, Breach's lieutenant, was arrested recently by the DEA. I leaned on him, and he agreed to talk about Cardoni if I helped him with his federal case and kept him out of this one.

But you're not keeping him out of it.

No, sir. Not now. We're talking serial murders. That changes a lot of things.

Scofield nodded, but Vasquez thought he saw a glimmer of skepticism in the older man's features.

Prochaska confirmed that Cardoni had been buying small, personal-use quantities from one of Breach's dealers until a few weeks ago, when he suddenly asked for two kilos. Cardoni checked out, so Breach sold him the dope. Prochaska told me that the doctor had a buyer and the sale was going down today.

Scofield's jaw dropped and he almost lost his cigar.

You mean Cardoni and his buyer could be on their way here right now?

I don't think so. I think we missed the sale. I searched everywhere. The only cocaine I found was the small amount in the refrigerator.

Scofield puffed on his cigar thoughtfully. We just met, Detective. The only thing I know about you is that you're a sworn officer of the law. But I do know a thing or two about Martin Breach and Art Prochaska. Frankly, I am having a hard time believing that Prochaska would give any police officer the time of day, much less discuss Martin Breach's business.

That's what happened, Mr. Scofield.

Prochaska is going to deny everything.

Probably, but it will be my word against his.

The word of an experienced police officer against that of a scumbag dope dealer, Scofield reflected, nodding thoughtfully.

Exactly.

Scofield did not look like he was buying anything Vasquez was selling.

Why didn't you put all of this information in an affidavit and present it to a judge, who could give you a warrant to search Dr. Cardoni's home?

There wasn't time. Besides, I didn't need a warrant. I had exigent circumstances here, Vasquez said, naming one of the exceptions to the rule that searches must be conducted with a warrant. Prochaska said that the sale was going down today, but he didn't know when it was going down. I figured that I might miss the sale if I took the time to get a warrant. As it turned out, I missed it anyway.

Why didn't you bring backup or call ahead to Sheriff Mills or the state police?

I should have done all those things, Vasquez said, looking properly chagrined. It was bad judgment on my part to handle this alone.

Scofield looked off into the forest. The only sound was the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. He puffed on his cigar. Then he broke the silence.

I guess you know that I'll be prosecuting this mess right here in Cedar City and you're gonna be my star witness.

Vasquez nodded.

Do you want to add to anything you've told me or correct anything you've said?

No, sir.

All right, then, that's it. And I hope it is what happened, because this whole case will go down the toilet if I can't convince Judge Brody that he can rely on your word.

Chapter 12

Sean McCarthy came to the crime scene because of an inquiry by Bobby Vasquez, who remembered that Cardoni had recently assaulted a nurse who had disappeared. McCarthy was forty-seven, meticulously dressed and as pale and cadaverous as the corpses that were the subject of his homicide investigations. The detective's red hair was spotted with gray, the freckles that dotted his alabaster skin were dull pink and his eyes were rimmed with dark circles.

Detective McCarthy stood inches from the open refrigerator and gazed at the severed heads thoughtfully while Vasquez and Scofield looked on. Then he took out a stack of snapshots and raised a Polaroid to eye level. He studied it, then he studied the heads. McCarthy had shown none of the revulsion or shock expressed by the other officers who viewed the remains. Instead, his lips creased, forming a smile that was as enigmatic as it was out of place. When he was satisfied he closed the refrigerator door.

Those fucking heads don't bother you? Vasquez asked.

McCarthy did not answer the question. He glanced at the forensic experts who were photographing and measuring the basement room.

Let's get out of here so these gentlemen can work undisturbed.

McCarthy led Vasquez and Scofield upstairs and onto the deck. Vasquez was exhausted and wanted only to sleep. Scofield seemed edgy. McCarthy gazed at the morning sky for a moment, then held up one of the Polaroids so that Vasquez and Scofield could see it.

One of the victims is Mary Sandowski. I don't know the identity of the other one.

McCarthy was about to continue when a deputy emerged from one of the hiking trails that led into the forest.

Sheriff, he called to Mills, who was conferring with two men at the side of the house. We found something.

Ah, McCarthy said, I've been expecting this.

Expecting what? Vasquez asked, but the homicide detective set off after Mills and the deputies without answering. Vasquez looked at Scofield, who shrugged and followed the lanky detective into the woods. The men marched silently along a narrow trail. The sound of their footsteps was dulled by the thick dark soil. A loamy scent mixed with the smell of pine. A sign announced that the men were entering national forest; a quarter of a mile later, the trail bent right and they were suddenly in a clearing. A shovel was sticking out of a pile of dirt in the middle of the field.

It looked like the earth had been turned recently, the deputy explained, so I got a shovel and came back out here.

He stepped aside so that the other men could see his discovery. Vasquez walked over to the narrow hole that the deputy had dug. At the bottom was a human arm.

Dr. Sally Grace, an assistant medical examiner, arrived shortly before the last of nine bodies was exhumed from the damp ground. All of the corpses were naked. Two were headless females. Of the remaining corpses, four were female, three were male and all but one appeared to be young. After a cursory examination, Grace informed the law enforcement officials gathered around her that, with the exception of the middle-aged male, all of the victims showed evidence of torture. Furthermore, Grace told them, one of the headless females had been ripped open from the breastbone to the abdomen and was missing her heart, and one of the males and another female had midline cuts from the area beneath the sternum to the pubic bone and were missing kidneys.