Aside from studying the photographs, there was not really much to study. Even in the case of Father Costas, where there was paperwork to go along with it, there wasnt much to tell. He had been killed from either the puncture wound to his lung or a deep incision in the back of his neck that had gone deep enough to reveal white glimmers of his spine.
So according to this report, Mackenzie said, the wounds to Father Costass body were likely what killed him. He was most likely dead before he was crucified.
And that means something? Ellington asked.
I think theres a very good chance. Its clear theres some sort of religious angle here. The mere subject of crucifixion supports that. But theres a huge difference between using the act of crucifixion as a message and using the imagery of crucifixion.
I think I follow, Ellington said. But you can keep explaining.
For Christians, the image of crucifixion would really just be a depiction of sorts. In our cases, death as a result of crucifixion doesnt seem to be the goal. If that were the case, the bodies would likely be mostly free of injury. Think about itthe whole of Christianity would be quite different if Christ was already dead when he was nailed to the cross.
So you think the killer is crucifying these men just for show?
Too early to tell, Mackenzie said. She paused long enough to take a blissful gulp of her coffee. Im leaning toward no, though. Both men were men of the clothleaders of a church in some form or another. Displaying them strung up like the Christian figure those churches revolve around is too much of a sign. Theres some sort of motive behind it all.
You just referred to Jesus Christ as a Christian figure. I thought you believed in God.
I do, Mackenzie said. But not with the strength and conviction someone like Ned Tuttle had. And when it gets into the Bible stories the talking snake, the ark, the blow-by-blow of the crucifixion I think faith has to take a back seat and rely on something closer to blind belief. And Im not comfortable with that.
Whoa, Ellington said with a smile. Thats deep. MeI just prefer to go with I dont know answer. Soas for the motive you mentioned. How do we find it? Ellington asked.
Good question. I plan to start with the family of Father Costas. Theres not much to go on in the reports. Also, I think
She was interrupted by the ringing of Ellingtons phone. He grabbed it quickly and frowned at what he saw on the display. Its McGrath, he said before answering it.
Mackenzie listened to Ellingtons end of the conversation, unable to piece together what was being said. After less than a minute, Ellington ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket.
Well, he said. It looks like youll be visiting the Costas family on your own. McGrath needs me back at his office. Some detail work on a case hes being all secretive on.
Which probably means its grunt work, Mackenzie said. Lucky you.
Stillseems weird hed yank me off of this so soon when we dont have any leads. It must mean he has immense confidence in you all of a sudden.
And you dont?
You know what I mean, Ellington said, smiling.
Mackenzie took another gulp of her coffee, a little disgruntled to find that it was already empty. She tossed the cup in the trash and gathered up the files and her phone, ready to move in to her next stop. First, though, she headed for the counter to order another coffee.
It was looking like it was going to be a very long day. And without Ellington to keep her on her toes, shed definitely need coffee.
Then again, long days usually resulted in leads in productivity. And if Mackenzie had her way, shed find the killer before he had time to so much as plan another murder.
CHAPTER FOUR
After dropping Ellington off in the parking garage at the FBI offices (and a quick yet passionate kiss before she left), Mackenzie made her way out to Blessed Heart Catholic Church. She wasnt expecting to find much of anything, so she wasnt disappointed when that was exactly what was waiting for her.
The doors had been replaced, but looked like exact replicas of the ones she had seen in the photos from the crime scene. She climbed up the stairs, these much fancier and ornate than the ones at Cornerstone Presbyterian, and to the new doors. She then turned her back to the doors and looked back out to the street. She couldnt help but wonder if there was any further symbolism in nailing the men to the front doors.
Maybe theyre supposed to be looking out toward something, Mackenzie thought. But all she was seeing were parked cars, a few pedestrians, and street signs.
She looked at her feet and along the edges of the door frame. There were small spackled shapes there that could be anything. But she had seen this color before the color of blood once it dried into pale concrete.
She looked back down the steps and tried to imagine a man bringing a dead body up them. It would be a task, that was for sure. Of course, she didnt know for sure that Costas had been dead when he had been nailed to the door, though that seemed to be the working assumption.
As she stood at the double doors and looked around, she went over the facts as she knew them from the files. The same kind of nails were used here as were used at the Tuttle scene. The only common injury among the two bodies was a large gash that went the length of their foreheads maybe an allusion to Christs crown of thorns.
Imagining such a grisly sight on the stoop she was standing on was hard to imagine. People didnt typically think of death and gore when they stood before the doors of a church.
And maybe thats the point. Maybe thats a tie-in to the killers motive.
Feeling like she might be on to something, Mackenzie took the stairs back down to the street. It felt odd to be moving at such a pace without Ellington by her side, but by the time she was in her car and moving forward, her mind was solely on the case.
***For the second time that day, Mackenzie found herself walking into a crowded home. Father Costas had lived in a nice home, a two-story brick home just along the outskirts of the downtown region. She was met by a woman who introduced herself as a parishioner of Blessed Heart. She led Mackenzie into a den area, where she was asked to wait for a moment.
Within a matter of seconds, an older woman entered the room. She looked exhausted and profoundly sad when she sat down in an armchair across from the seat Mackenzie had taken on an ornate sofa.
Im so sorry to bother you, Mackenzie said. I had no idea youd have this much company.
Yes, I had no idea, either, the woman said. But the funeral is tonight and there are all of these people coming out of the woodwork. Family members, acquaintances, loved ones from the church. She then grinned sleepily and added: Im Nancy Allensworth, the parish secretary. Im told youre with the FBI?
Yes maam. At the risk of upsetting you further, there was another body discovered this morning, treated the same way as Father Costas. This one was a reverend at a small Presbyterian church near Georgetown.
Nancy Allensworth put her hand to her mouth in a dramatic oh no gesture. My goodness, she said. Then, through tears and gritted teeth, she hissed, What has this wretched world come to?