Part 38 (2/2)
It was every bit as gory as Mike described. There were body parts and blood everywhere. Anderson saw three fingers and part of a palm on the floor at his feet. Part of an arm was festooned from an umbrella stand in the entryway. A lower jaw and a long tattered flap of b.l.o.o.d.y skin that Anderson figured was probably from the front of the victim's throat was resting under a sideboard table. There was a vast puddle of coagulated blood on the floor, and four sets of twin bare spots around the perimeter. He looked at them, at the way the blood was textured inside the bare spots, like you would see after a paint brush is pressed against a wall and lifted straight away.
”What are those?” he said, interrupting whatever Levy had been saying. ”They look like knee prints.”
”Probably so,” Levy agreed. ”That would fit, right? Four suspects. They've got her on the floor right here. They're on their knees around her, tearing her to pieces, tossing the body parts away like peanut sh.e.l.ls.”
”Like peanut sh.e.l.ls?”
”You know what I mean.”
Anderson sighed. ”Yeah, I guess so.”
He turned away and looked in at the rest of the house. It was steeped in shadows, even though most of the lights were on. He was about to ask if somebody had turned on the lights, or if they'd had the good sense to leave the crime scene intact when Levy brushed past his shoulder and said, ”Come with me, Keith. There's something you need to see in here.”
Anderson put his questions on hold and followed Levy into the living room. What he saw there staggered him, and it took him a good long minute just to catch his breath. It took him another long minute to absorb it all.
There was a long smear of blackish red blood on the floor from the entryway to a leg left in the middle of the floor. But that wasn't what caught his eye. What made him gasp for breath was the collection of stick lattices along the back wall. They were the same as the ones he had found at the train yard and in the circular chamber at the Morgan Rollins Iron Works. And they were the same ones he'd seen in the Comal County crime scene photos of Martin Henninger's death.
”My G.o.d,” he said.
”You ain't seen nothing yet,” Levy said. ”Go into the kitchen and look at the walls.”
Anderson drifted toward the grungy kitchen in a haze. What he saw there was writing all over the walls, though he couldn't read any of it.
”What language is this supposed to be?” he asked.
Levy said, ”That, my friend, is Hebrew. Or, rather, it looks like Hebrew. A lot of it is kind of archaic looking.”
”You're an expert on ancient Hebrew now?” Anderson asked.
”Hey, I told you, I may not be a practicing Jew, but I had to learn Hebrew same as every other kid who ever had a bar mitzvah.”
”Yeah, but how can you tell this is ancient Hebrew?”
”Remember when they tried to teach us to read Chaucer back in high school?”
”Yeah, my teacher made us memorize the opening lines of the Prologue of the Canterbury Tales.”
”Exactly. You look at that stuff, and you can tell it's in English, but it's obviously old, you know? The words are spelled funny. The syntax is all wrong. It's the same thing here with this writing.”
”The syntax?”
”The way the sentences are put together.”
Anderson shook his head. ”Chuck, you never cease to amaze me, you know that?”
”Yeah, well, that's why I make the big bucks.”
”You have any idea what it says?”
”Some of it.” He walked over to the stove and pointed at the backsplash behind the burners. ”This part here sounds like it's from the Day of Atonement ritual in Leviticus.”
”Leviticus? Like in the Old Testament?”
”You mean the Torah, Keith. We Jews don't call it the Old Testament.”
”Whatever you call it it's over my head. I haven't been in a church since my wedding day. What's the Day of Atonement ritual, anyway?”
”The Day of Atonement is Yom Kippur.”
Anderson just looked at him, waiting.
”Keith, are you s.h.i.+tting me? One of your oldest friends is Jewish and you don't know what our major holidays are?”
”I'm an insensitive b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Does that make you feel any better?”
”Loads.”
”Good. So what's the Day of Atonement and why is it on this woman's wall?”
”Well that's the thing. This isn't the Day of Atonement pa.s.sage from Leviticus. Not exactly, anyway. It's close, but...Look, you've heard the word scapegoat, right?”
”Of course. h.e.l.l, Chuck, of course I've heard it. I've been a policeman for twenty-five years. I'm used to being blamed for other people's problems.”
”Yeah, that's true. Well, the word scapegoat comes from the Day of Atonement ritual in Leviticus. Moses called Aaron and the others together while they were living in tents out in the desert and ordered them to bring him two goats. He put a hand on each goat's head and prayed. One goat was sacrificed to Yahweh. The other got all of the sins of Israel placed on its head and was led out into the desert and given to Azazel. It's the goat that escaped, or the 'scapegoat.' Get it?”
”Yeah, I got that. Who in the h.e.l.l is Azazel?”
”I don't know. n.o.body does, really. It's a name, that's what my rabbi told me. It means something like 'angry G.o.d,' but n.o.body really knows for sure.”
Anderson looked at the writing again. He couldn't make heads or tails of it.
”You said all of this is similar to Leviticus?” he asked.
”Similar, yes. But not exact. You had to memorize Chaucer. In synagogue I had to memorize parts of the Day of Atonement pa.s.sage. This stuff here changes it around, though. There's no mention of Moses in here. And it reads Azazel everywhere that the scriptures say Yahweh. And the goat that's supposed to be sent out into the desert for Azazel is here being told to bring back the souls of the dead.”
”The souls of the dead?”
”Yeah, you know, like ghosts. That's what this looks like it's saying. I got the evidence technician to do detailed photographs of all this. I figure we could let a rabbi or somebody look at it and hopefully translate it for us. What do you think? Keith?”
Anderson was looking out the backdoor. Or where the backdoor had been. Now there were just shattered pieces of wood hanging from the hinges. Paul Henninger was standing out there, looking off toward the Morgan Rollins Iron Works. He had that coin in his hands again, and the goats were cl.u.s.tered around him, looking up at him expectantly.
”Excuse me for a second,” Anderson said to Levy. ”I want to go talk to...”
He trailed off there and walked outside without giving Levy any further explanation. He came up behind Paul and the goats bleated at him irritably before walking off.
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