Free Diehl, William - Show of Evil by Unknown Page A

package. The pictures confirmed his suspicion that
this killing was a repeat of the Balfour/Gellerman murder.
    'Fellow owns a quick shop down the road from the road into the
Spiers' place, lives behind it. He found him,' Nicholson said. 'Noticed
the UPD truck through the trees when he got up yesterday morning. When
it was still there at lunchtime, he strolled over to take a look. Front
door was standing open. Then he heard the flies. Damn near had a heart
attack when he saw that young guy in there all carved up like that.
Plus he'd been dead about sixteen hours.'
    'What's the victim's name?' asked Flaherty.
    'Alexander Lincoln,' Nicholson answered. 'They called him Lex.'
    Alex Lincoln
, Flaherty thought.
The last of the Altar
Boys
.
    Except one. Aaron Stampler.
    Rain dripped off the yellow crime ribbons that had been wrapped
around a wide perimeter of the house when they got there. A sheriff's
car was parked beside the driveway. A cop waved them through. Several
police cars were parked single file as they approached the house.
    'We're going to have to run for it,' Nicholson said, turning up the
collar of his suit coat. The two men got out of the car and ran through
the rain to the small porch that spanned the front of the house.
Several detectives in yellow rain slickers stood under the roof. They
nodded as Nicholson and Flaherty ducked under the eaves.
    'It's a bitch, Nick,' one of the cops said. This rain has washed out
footprints, tyre tracks, everything. The old man's a bear.'
    Nicholson and Flaherty stood just inside the front door for a few
moments. A plainclothes detective was standing beside the door jotting
a note to himself in a small notebook.
    'Hi, Nick,' he said. 'What a mess, huh.'
    'That it is. Ray Jensen, this is Dermott Flaherty. He's a prosecutor
with the Chicago DA's office.'
    Jensen offered his hand. 'What brings you out here?' he asked.
    'We have a thing working up in Chicago. It's a long shot, but there
could be a tie-in.'
    'Be a nice break for us if we could get some kind of a lead,' said
Jensen. 'Right now we're sucking air.'
    A hallway led to the rear of the house. Flaherty could see white
chalk lines marking where the victim's legs had protruded into the
hall. He held a shot of the interior of the house taken from the front
door out in front of him. Lincoln's legs could be seen protruding from
the door halfway down the hall.
    'The Spiers left a light on in the living room,' said Jensen. The
rest of the place was dark. My guess is the killer called Lincoln back
there to do his dirty work.'
    They walked past a living room that was cluttered with kewpie dolls,
embroidered pillows, and dozens of photographs. The furniture was
covered with plastic sheets. Flaherty smelled the acid-sweet odour of
blood and death.
    The death room was a small den with a fireplace. Sliding glass doors
led from the room to an enclosed porch on the side of the house.
Another door led into the kitchen, which dominated the rear of the
place. There was blood everywhere: on the walls, the ceiling, the
carpet. Flaherty found a full-length shot of the corpse. Lincoln lay on
his side, his head askew. A terrible wound had almost severed his head.
His mouth gaped open like that of a dead fish. The wounds were numerous
and awesome. Lincoln's pants were pulled down around his knees and he
had been emasculated. The results of the brutal amputation had been
stuffed in his mouth.
    Flaherty flipped through the pictures, found a close-up of the rear
of Lincoln's head.
    There it was: 'R41.102.' Flaherty showed no emotion. He kept
flipping the photographs.
    'How'd he get in? The killer, I mean?' he asked.
    'Broke a window in back,' Jensen said. 'The way we figure it, he
cased the place very carefully. Knew the back road to the lake would be
abandoned this time of year; particularly after dark. He came in the
back way, pulled on down to the house, and broke in through the sliding
glass door leading from the little deck in the back. Here's