The Wizard Murders Read Online Free Page A

unwanted negative attention to the Beaumont area; the 1948 murder of Margie Lee Winn never went away, but then again it was the essence of what moved newspapers like the LA Times in those days: a young beauty queen, mysteriously murdered. However, this is so far beyond anything like that... could that Marshall girl have been involved in some bizarre religious cult? It all appears to be ritualistic. But wait , he thinks, she wasn't even in her own home. Did the killer think he had one of the Gillette girls? Well... that doesn't make any sense either, because he would have or should have known who he was targeting. Could it have been a burglary? She walks in on someone who kills her in a spectacular way to divert cops from the original crime? Pitt slips into a zone of concentration not unlike what he experiences when he's working on one of his beloved crossword puzzles. Across the kitchen is a jar of instant coffee; Pitt doesn't really see the brand name, he takes more notice of the type of font that the lettering uses, the spatial relationships of how everything is printed on the side of the jar. He cocks his head to one side as his eye catches what appears to be a small, ornate circle.
     
    Wait a minute, wait a minute, Pitt thinks, wasn't there something on the news about some crazy claim of Satanism involving the Procter & Gamble logo? Some people called it a "wizard" design when it's actually just a man-in-the-moon kind of thing? Pitt reaches out and grabs the jar, and looks closely. Do we have something here? Pitt squints and stares until his eyes water and finally decides while it's a bit strange, the logo doesn't bear all that much resemblance to what he had seen earlier; the old P&G logo indeed has a man-in-the-moon face in profile, and the 13 stars on the left part of the circle- Pitt counts them again, 13 , just to be sure- are meant to symbolize the 13 original American Colonies. What hovered over the crime scene earlier (and Officer Munsell had taken hundreds of photographs Pitt fully planned to pore over in the morning) was not in profile; it looked like the kind of wizard you'd expect Merlin from Camelot to be, and there were far more stars in the top portion of the circle. No, Pitt thinks, no 'Satanic panic' here in Beaumont. At least not yet.
     
    Pitt's appetite kicks in and soon he's mowing down the chewy fried chicken and far-too-hot, gelatinous mashed potatoes. He manages to jot down a few random notes in a small spiral notebook, then turns in for the night. He chuckles mordantly at himself as he realizes he's actually checking every door and window in his small apartment before retiring. He's also embarrassed- as a veteran cop- to admit that his five senses are working overtime.
     
    He lies upon the cool sheets of his bed and lets his mind drift... I wonder if Clarence ever got a hold of the Marshalls... that's a conversation I would never want to have... 'Don, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it. There's been a stabbing. Robyn was killed.' I've had people punch me or even burst out into hysterical laughter when I've notified them of a loved one's demise.... but usually the cause of death is because of age or some sort of accident. How do you even begin to explain, well, she's not only dead, but it's like Helter Skelter in that bedroom... I'll need to make some calls in the morning and find out what this 'deranged person' bullshit is; what if some of those details get to Robyn's family before we have a chance to tell them?
     
    So sorry, Don... your daughter, your baby daughter... she's gone. Dead. Murdered. Maybe even sacrificed like some damn animal or something. Sacrificed... like rabbits running through briar patches. Huh?
     
    What time is it? 3 AM. Christ! 3 AM! I'll never sleep. Insomnia is extremely rare for Pitt, and he's getting increasingly agitated. Why can't this be Maine? Why can't I be in Maine with my brother Frank, why can't this boring life just wind down and let me be in