The Dead Room by Robert Ellis

McGee, had seen Holmes running from the house covered in blood. When he raced off in his mail truck, she noticed that the front door was open and walked inside the house. She found Darlene’s body on the dining room table and called the police, then popped a nitroglycerin tablet because she had a bad heart. The officer who took her initial statement noted that she was upset, but appeared clear in mind and didn’t require any medical assistance. She knew Holmes by name, and said he’d been her mailman for many years.
    Once they had a name, Ellwood left Vega in Chestnut Hill and took off for the city. Holmes hadn’t completed his mail route or returned his truck to the post office. Ellwood caught up with the man at his apartment at Twenty-third and Pine where he made the arrest. Holmes was driven downtown to the homicide division at police headquarters. Ellwood stayed at the apartment, supervising the investigation. They found Holmes’s clothing buried in the trash, the murder weapon stuffed in his mailbag on the front seat of his truck. After the crime scene was processed, Ellwood returned to headquarters and the interview began.
    Teddy read Holmes’s statement carefully. There was no mention of his prior relationship with Darlene Lewis. None of the sexual taunting and teasing. But Holmes seemed as confused as he’d been last night, admitting to Ellwood that he was there but saying he couldn’t remember what happened and wanted to talk to his lawyer. He gave the detective Jim Barnett’s name. Because he was so distraught, Ellwood made the call for him. Once Barnett arrived and they had a chance to speak, Holmes was photographed and fingerprinted. Blood and hair samples were taken with Barnett’s consent, along with two prints of Holmes’s lips.
    Although the results from the rape kit weren’t in yet, the finger and lip prints were conclusive. Every print Teddy had seen on the girl’s body under the black lights belonged to Oscar Holmes. Additional prints had been found on the legs of the dining room table where the girl’s arms and legs had been tied down with rags. These prints matched Holmes as well.
    Teddy flipped the page and felt a chill ripple up his spine. He was staring at a photograph of Holmes that must have been taken in his apartment at the time of his arrest. The face the police had seen when Holmes answered the door. Holmes may have had time to ditch his clothing in the trash, but he hadn’t washed up yet. And his face hadn’t been sprayed with the girl’s blood, but was entirely covered in it as if hit by a mud pie. The blood looked like it had dried and thickened, and Teddy could see it caked in the man’s hair and between his teeth. Behind the hideous blood mask, the look of insanity in Holmes’s wild eyes was something Teddy knew he would never forget. The man hadn’t just killed the girl. He’d burrowed his face in her wounds and gobbled up her skin.
    He threw the binder on the desk and gasped. Jill turned from the computer, saw the murder book opened to Holmes’s picture and jumped to her feet.
    “Jesus Christ,” she shouted.
    Teddy grabbed the binder and slammed it closed. He was carrying enough of the horror inside his head for both of them.
    “What do you know about William Nash?” he asked.
    He was trying to distract her by raising a simple question, but her eyes were locked on the binder. From the look on her face, Teddy hadn’t closed the book fast enough.
    “He teaches at Penn,” she said slowly.
    “You ever take any of his classes?”
    She nodded. “One. But only because I had to.”
    “Are you okay, Jill?”
    She nodded again, her eyes finally meeting his as she sat down. Teddy made a point of settling back in his chair.
    “I’ve never met him,” he said after a moment. “But everybody says he’s good.”
    “He gets people off for murder. I’m not sure I’d call that good.”
    Jill was still preoccupied with the binder. Teddy threw it in his briefcase, then