Part 08

“Plack! Did you see where this package came from?”

The other detective didn’t even look up. “I have no idea. It was here when I came in.”

“When was that!?”

“About 3:00. Why?”

Stegner had been called to the crime scene at 2:30, so it had to have been delivered right after he left.

Christ! This is bad.

Ignoring Plack’s question, he grabbed his phone. Jenkins answered on the third ring.

“Paul, I know you are busy with the family, but I think you might want to come to the pit.” The origin of the nickname used by detectives for the 2nd floor was lost in the history of the department.

“Jesus, Howie, I just got dinner. What’s going on?”

“Our boy left me a present while I was gone, and a calling card.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am sitting here staring at a shadow box, or a diorama, maybe. Paul, it’s the Paradise. The entire staged crime scene, in miniature. Very detailed miniature. Right down to the roses on the floorboards. Our boy just took this to a whole new level.”

“Oh shit! Okay, I’m on my way.”

Stegner reached into his desk and grabbed a fresh pair of latex gloves. Once he had them on, he gently picked up the wrapping paper from the floor where it had fallen, and set it on the desk, next to the miniature scene.

The diorama was in a sealed box, about 14 inches wide, 12 inches deep and about 18 inches high. The base appeared to be made of some kind of hardwood - it was stained deep mahogany and covered in a gloss finish. The top and sides were clear. Stegner was willing to bet that it wasn’t glass. Glass would have been much heavier. His bet was on Lucite or Plexglass, but the boys in the lab would figure it out.

Inside, the stage of the Paradise had been recreated in miniature, complete with red velvet curtains and small spotlights with colored lens covers, mounted on a little catwalk. On the stage were four posable wooden marionettes. These were about four inches in height and were dressed in costumes that were identical to those the victims had been dressed in. They had strings that ran up to small cross-bars, exactly like those at the crime scene.

He carefully picked up the box, and noticed that everything was frozen in place. The stage curtains didn’t move at all, even though they appeared to be made from crushed velvet. This was an amazingly beautiful miniature, if it hadn’t been for the fact that there was a duplicate crime scene of actual human girls. This perp was meticulous, and he had obviously spent a lot of time planning and creating this.

Stegner considered calling the captain tonight. M.J. Fisher was a good cop and a great boss, but it was just after dinnertime, and Stegner knew that the captain had his daughter and grandkids living with him. On the other hand, Stegner would probably get his ass chewed if he didn’t at least give M.J. a heads-up.

He picked up his phone and dialed the number. As he waited for an answer, he reached into his top desk drawer for a fresh roll of antacids.

** This concludes Chapter One of The Puppeteer. Chapter Two is up next...