Patterson, James - Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue

As I made my way through the onlookers, I saw something that bothered me, shook me up even more than the news of the murders.

There were at least a dozen men and women dressed in Goth attire: black frock coats, top hats, leather pants, long boots. One of them smiled right at me. He showed off a set of sharpened, very nasty-looking fangs. He had on blood-red contacts that glowed. He seemed to know who I was. 'Dude,' he smirked. 'Welcome to hell.'

There was nothing I could do about the ghouls. I kept on walking toward the Bellagio. These strange role-players seemed to have no qualms about being at the crime scene. Were the killers here? Were they watching? What did they expect to see next? What did the murders mean?

I hoped that the Vegas police or the FBI was filming the crowd gathering outside the hotel. I figured that Kyle would have taken care of that. I was here for one reason: I can put together details at a murder scene that other cops usually can't. It was why Kyle Craig had asked for me. He understood my strengths, and probably also my weaknesses.

The suite where the couple had been murdered was large and relatively tasteful by resort standards. The first thing anyone entering the room would notice was a marble bathtub in a tinted glass window overlooking a man-made lake and several fountains.

Two bodies were in the tub. I could see the tops of their heads and a couple of bare feet. As I got closer, I saw that the man and woman had been bitten, and also cut several times. The nude corpses were eerily white.

There hadn't been anywhere to hang them inside the suite.

There wasn't much blood in the tub itself, but it had been stoppered. The room was buzzing with police activity. Too much to suit me. There were LVPD detectives, paramedics, crime-scene scientists, a pathologist, the Coroner's investigative team, and the FBI, of course.

I needed quiet.

I studied the pale, pathetic bodies for several minutes. As was the case with all of the victims so far, the man and woman had been attractive.

Perfect specimens. Chosen for that reason? If not, then why?

The girl looked to be in her early twenties. She was petite, blonde, slender, probably under a hundred pounds. The span of her shoulders was only about a ruler's length. Her breasts were small, and had been bitten, almost shredded. There were bite gouges up and down her legs. The male also appeared to be in his early twenties. He was blond, blue-eyed, with a corn-fed look; his body was toned and sculpted. He too had been bitten. His throat had been slashed and so had his wrists.

I could see no defensive bruises on either of their hands. They hadn't fought back,had they? They knew the attackers.

'You saw the ghouls lurking outside?'Kyle asked.'The semi-human freak show?'

I nodded. 'It's daylight, though. The ones out there must be harmless. The ghouls in their crypts are the ones we need to find.'

Kyle nodded, then he walked away.

After most of the police technicians left I wandered around the hotel suite for hours. It's a ritual for me, part of my own obsession. Maybe I feel I owe it to the dead. I stopped and stared out at the view of the lake that the victims had enjoyed. I noticed everything - the creamy whites, blushing pinks, and Sixties Parrish yellows that engulfed the room. Framed mirrors spotlighted with recessed lights. Fresh fruit and flowers.

The victims had unpacked and put away their clothes. I went through the labels: Bob Mackie dresses, high-heel shoes by Jimmy Choo and Manolo Blahnik, a couple of skirts. Expensive, chic, the best of everything.

The last thing either of them had expected was to die.

A stack of fifty- and hundred-dollar markers from the Venetian and New York-New York were in plain view on the dresser. The killers had left the chips. Also, two full vials of cocaine in the woman's purse. A carton of Marlboro Lights.

Was it to tell us they weren't interested in money and drugs? In gambling? In cigarettes? What are they interested in - murder? Blood?

There were ticket stubs inside the woman's purse. Souvenirs? Passes to MGM Grand Adventures. Tickets for shows at Circus Circus, the Folies Bergere in the Tropicana, the magicians Siegfried & Roy. A half-full bottle of Lolita Lempicka perfume.

The male kept a few restaurant receipts: Le Cirque in the Bellagio, Napa, the Palm, Spago at Caesars.

There are no tickets or receipts for last night/1 said to Kyle. 'We need to find out where they went. Could be where they met the killers. They must have gotten friendly with them. They let the killers in here.'

Alex Cross 7 - Violets Are Blue

Chapter Thirty-Five

The cell phone in my pocket went off. Shit! Damn it! Why do I carry these infernal gadgets? Why does anybody in their right mind need to constantly be on call? I glanced at my watch as I took the phone in hand. It was already seven in the morning. What a life. So far, we knew that Andrew Cotton and Dara Grey had gone to the Rum Jungle for drinks and then a magic show at the Mirage. They were seen talking to two people, but it had been dark in the theater. That was what we had so far, but it was still early. I had been at the Bellagio murder scene since a little past four in the morning. The case was really getting under my skin. The murders were brutal, primal. 'Alex Cross,71 spoke into the phone. I turned toward the picture window revealing the lake and the desert in the distance. The view was soothing, an incredible contrast with what had happened in the hotel room. 'It's Jamilla, Alex. Did I wake you?' 'No, not hardly. I wish you had. I'm at a murder scene. I'm in Las Vegas, staring out at the desert. You're up pretty early yourself,' I said. It was good to hear her voice. She sounded sane and normal. She was sane and normal. I was the one in trouble. 'Oh, I sometimes get in to the office before six. That way I can get a day's work done before everybody else arrives here. Alex, I have some information to share on the biting attacks.'

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VIOLETS ARE BLUE

>From the sound of her voice, I suspected this wasn't going to make things any easier for me. 'Go ahead, Jamilla. I'm listening.' 'Okay,' she said. 'I've been working with a couple of medical examiners from the other places where the bloodsuckers struck. I think we may have hit on something important in San Luis Obispo and then again in San Diego.' I was listening; Jam had my full attention. 'In both of the cities, the medical examiners really got into the case, really tried to help. As you know, we exhumed in San Luis Obispo. Then Guy Millner, the ME in San Diego, did the same. I won't bore you with all the details right now, though I can overnight it to your hotel.' “That would be great. Obviously, no faxes on any of this material.' 'Here's what we've found out. In both these murders, the teeth marks are different to those in San Francisco or LA. The marks were made by human teeth. But the killers were not the same ones. The evidence is pretty conclusive. 'Alex, there are at least four killers out there working. At least four. We've identified four different sets of human teeth so far.' I was trying to make some sense of what I'd just heard. ”These are bodies that were exhumed? Human teeth could leave bite marks on bone?' 'Yes. The MEs all agreed on that. The enamel on teeth is the hardest substance in the human body. Also, as you know, the killers might have been wearing enhancers.' 'Fangs?' 'Right. There was gnawing on the bones found in San Luis Obispo and San Diego. That's another reason why there were clear marks.' 'Gnawing?' I winced. 'You're the psychologist, not me. Gnawing entails strong, repetitive, intentional action. It could definitely account for teeth marks. One of the victims was an adolescent, the other was in his fifties. That helped us some, too. According to my sources, the adolescent's bones had less density; so did the older person's due to