Clicking on Ott’s name, Ten waited for the file to load. Mr. Ott had two OUI offences on his record, both of which occurred in 2014. Cisco and Oliveri were the arresting officers on the second drunk driving charge. They were the ones who brought him to the station, had blood drawn to determine his blood alcohol level,—twice the legal limit— booked him, and put him in lockup to await transport to the Essex County Jail the following morning. When the jailer, Duncan MacBain, checked on him several hours later, Ott was dead. He’d also been the jailer on duty when McGrath died. So far everything he’d read was perfectly in line with what happened to Jefferson McGrath. Flipping to the autopsy report, Ten saw it was performed by Doctor Marcus Winetrap.
Moving on to Paul White, Ten discovered he’d been arrested for assault which took place during a bar fight. Witnesses didn’tknow what started the tiff, but when it ended, White and Miller, the other combatant, had been arrested. While the men were being booked, White grabbed his left arm and fell to the floor. Kendall McFry, the arresting officer, performed CPR until the medics arrived. White had been DOA at Salem Mercy. According to the autopsy, which wasnotperformed by Winetrap, he’d had a massive heart attack. White had died while in custody and had been taken to the same hospital, but beyond that, there were no other similarities to Jefferson McGrath.
Lastly, Tennyson looked up the third name on the list, Anthony Charles, who, it turned out, had a lengthy criminal record, mostly for larceny and breaking and entering offences, but the last time he was arrested, in late 2017, by Cisco and Oliveri, it was for DUI. Moving through the police report he saw that Charles had tested well over twice the legal limit. He’d been booked into custody at the Salem Jail and was dead within hours. Dr. Marcus Winetrap performed the autopsy and ruled manner of death as natural and cause of death cardiac arrest.
“Shit,” Ten muttered.
“What is it?” Ronan asked.
“Two of my three names fit McGrath’s profile to a T.” Ten felt sick to his stomach seeing Cisco’s name in black and white, staring him in the face.
“Cisco and Oliveri were the arresting officers?” Ronan asked.
Ten nodded. “Sorry, Ronan.”
“Don’t be,” Ronan said on a heavy sigh. “The whole point is to get to the bottom of these deaths. If the evidence points to Oliveri, we bring him in for questioning. Same goes for Cisco. All we can do is follow the evidence.”
“I know.” Ronan’s answer didn’t make Ten feel any better. “What about you? Did any of your names match McGrath’s details?”
“Yeah, one. Guy by the name of Lewis Prado. He died in 2016, a year after McGrath. When did your victims die?”
Ten paged back through his notes. “Ott died in 2014, the year before McGrath and Charles in 2017, two years after McGrath.”
“There are no suspicious deaths after 2017?” Fitzgibbon asked from the doorway.
“No, Cap, why do you ask?” Ronan wore a concerned look.
“Oliveri retired in early January 2018 and Cisco was named interim Chief of Police after the former chief died in office in February.”
“Which means both men were no longer in the position to arrest and book suspects,” Ronan said.
“Exactly,” Fitz agreed, “although one would argue Cisco, as chief, would have had access to the city jail.”
“Shit,” Ronan muttered. “Just when I thought we might have found an out for Cisco.”
“They were the perfect cover for each other,” Fitz said.
“Are you thinking they worked together?” Ten asked. The implications of that scenario were almost too much to bear.
“No,” Fitz said, although the tone he used indicated Ten’s suggestion hadn’t crossed his mind. “If the killer was Oliveri, he got to walk away clean with his pension intact, knowing that if he killed again, he couldn’t blame it on Cisco. If it was Cisco, he knew it was time to stop because he could no longer blame Oliveri for the murders.
“The shit is deeper than we possibly could have imagined.” Ronan sunk his head into his hands.
“I’m about to make it deeper still,” Jude said, walking out of his office. “I did what Cap asked and went back to McGrath’s autopsy. There was a mention of there being a mark on his abdomen of unknown origin. His blood sugar level was low, but not dangerously so, which would track since he hadn’t eaten in over twelve hours at the time of his death.”
“You’re right, that makes sense. When does the shit get deeper?” Fitz looked like he didn’t want to know the answer.
“Ronan sent me the names of the six men who’d died suspiciously at the Essex County Jail or here in Salem. Three of the autopsy reports match McGrath’s. All three men had a puncture wound of unknown origin on their abdomen.”
“Let me guess, Ott, Charles, and Prado?” Ronan asked.
“Yup,” Jude agreed.
“Call the medical examiner’s office. Make an appointment for tomorrow morning to see him. Say it’s in reference to the Maxwell case. Our time to keep our findings a secret is quickly running out, so let’s keep a lid on this for as long as we can.”
Tennyson felt sick to his stomach.
“There’s one more thing,” Fitz said. “All four of the men on our list had been approached by a public defender by the name of Fallon Kirkpatrick.”
