Free Evil Season by Michael Benson Page B

dad, but he did call him. Hayes told DeNiro that the man who answered the phone became nervous and stammered that he’d never heard of Robert Wishart.
    DeNiro called Dayton police and learned that Robert Wishart did not have a criminal record. He was clean—with the exception of a parking ticket in 1993. Ohio DMV supplied DeNiro with Robert’s photo, but it was faxed and the quality was not very good.
    DeNiro called the landlady at the address he’d been given for Robert Wishart. She didn’t have anyone living there under that name. Not legally, anyway.
    â€œThere is a squatter named Bob,” she said, and he turned out to be Wishart. Bob lived with a woman named Rose. He worked at the Salvation Army in Dayton.
    The landlady said she didn’t peg Bob as a violent guy, just a ne’er-do-well. He drove a truck, gambled his money, and spent his winnings on alcohol.
    A sergeant with the Dayton police agreed to interview Bob Wishart at the Salvation Army and get back to DeNiro. That was done. Bob turned out to be old and frail—and he had an alibi. He was in Dayton at the time of the murder, many miles from Sarasota and his ex-wife.
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    On January 26, a sixty-three-year-old freelance photographer asked permission to photograph the gallery. He was granted permission to take pictures of the gallery’s exterior only.
    That same morning, criminalists were back inside applying luminol to the alcove walls and ceiling area, without success. Luminol was then applied to the carpet; this search bore fruit. Blood droplets were discovered in a line from the alcove to the bathroom. When the blood-revealing chemical was applied to the hallway louver, and bathroom doors, blood was revealed at both locations—blood spots that had been wiped clean, no longer visible to the naked eye. This was more evidence that the killer took his time after the murder, operated on the corpse, attempted a cleanup, staged the scene to give it style and maximize the shock value. The CSIs went to work at nine in the morning and were out by ten-thirty.
    Meanwhile, criminalists Jackie Scogin and Valerie Howard were in the sally port, where they were giving the victim’s car a more thorough exam. Howard lifted one fingerprint from the passenger-side visor mirror. Only two prints were found in total on and in the car; neither was of comparative value.
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    Officer Harry Ross was guarding the crime scene on January 27 when he was contacted by a white female who would identify herself only as Rusty. She said that back on January 23, she saw a suspicious person near Main Street and Palm Avenue. It was a black male—and not the usual vagrant who frequented that area. This was someone she hadn’t seen before. Rusty asked to be contacted by an investigator and left her phone number.
    Luminol and photography had been the criminalists’ last tasks. Following a last once-over by Detectives Anthony DeFrancisco and Frank Puder, the crime scene was released. At eight-twenty at night, Tom Shanafelt cleared the scene and the SPD’s twenty-four-hour presence at the gallery was discontinued.
    Just in case the killer returned to the scene of the crime, a police surveillance camera and recording device were set up inside the gallery, looking out the front window.
    After five days the surveillance experiment was discontinued. The camera and recording device were removed from the front of the gallery.
    The resulting footage picked up a few curiosity seekers, and a regular visit from the Bay Plaza security guard on duty, but nothing helpful.

    In the meantime Detective Jack Carter examined the victim’s daily planner, but he found little of value. The January 30, 2004, entry on her daily planner had Angels and Demons written above the word “Library.” This was no doubt a reference to returning the Dan Brown book by that title, and not a reference to any real-life cult-type activities.
    More promising