Shadows Fall (6 page)

“Most likely yes, but there are exceptions to every rule. Maybe he used padded restraints. There’s no way to tell that from autopsy.”

“What if he used chloroform or something?”

“Chloroform is rapidly expelled from the body, so it wouldn’t show up on toxicology, but I doubt it would keep the victim down long enough to do all of this damage,” Karen said.

“When will we have toxicology?”

Karen narrowed her eyes at him as if he were a petulant child. “You know how it works, Hale. Could be a couple of weeks, and that’s
if
we know what we’re looking for. If you suspect some kind of foreign substance, we’ll have to go
back
to the lab and have them run it through the mass spectrometer.”

Charlie growled. He hated this impotent feeling of not being able to connect the dots, but he
knew
they connected somehow. “Tell me about number two. Just skip to the important stuff.”

She covered up Talika Ross and Charlie followed her over to the next body, where she removed the sheet. He sucked in a breath; this was the worst one, for him—a child.

“This is Jade Huneycutt. Twelve years old, fifty-eight inches long, eighty-five pounds, in good health. Rigor was not present. Livor mortis was posterior and blanching, putting her time of death at Thursday, the seventeenth, between twelve and four a.m.

“The dermis was removed from the left side of her face, neck and shoulders, much like the first victim, also before she was killed. Again, no trace, no signs of a struggle. Same carvings on her neck, but with a slightly different formation of the slashes and circles.”

“It’s a calling card.”

“Possibly, yes. Here’s where her killing deviates from Miss Ross’s.” Karen lifted the girl’s arm, turning it so that Charlie could see the inside of her wrist. “See this tiny puncture wound here? I think it’s from a large gauge needle. She has an identical one on her other wrist. According to the crime scene investigators’ report, only a small amount of blood was found at the scene—probably what came from her wounds.

“Like Miss Ross, Miss Huneycutt was exsanguinated and died from hypovolemia. However, the majority of her blood volume was absent, so… where’d it go?”

“Maybe he moved the body.”

Karen was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “Unlikely. He would have had to drain her blood last for her to have been alive when he removed her skin. Evidence at the scene indicated that the scalping was done there, so it stands to reason that he had to have bled her there.”

“You think he collected her blood.”

“I do, yes. It’s just a theory, but it’s what my gut’s telling me. Of course, I didn’t put that in my report because there is no direct evidence to support it.”

“The modus operandi are close, but not identical. He’s obviously keeping trophies—”

“
If
it’s the same guy,” Karen interrupted.

“Let’s make the assumption for argument’s sake, shall we?” Charlie growled, and Karen nodded reluctantly.

“Give me vic number three,” Charlie urged.

“Last but not least, we have Mara Lewis. Thirty-five years old, one hundred forty-five pounds, sixty-seven inches long. She was in decent health, though she did have a mild case of atherosclerosis, but that doesn’t seem to have played a part in her death.

“Again, the scalp was removed from the frontal portion of the skull and severed at the coronal suture. It was not found at the scene. Both eyes were removed in a similar manner as Miss Ross’s, with extreme care, and were not found. She also bled out from her wounds, blood was present at the scene. Similar but not identical markings were found on her neck, inflicted prior to death. Time of death is estimated at Wednesday, the twenty-third, between two and five a.m.”

“He’s moving up his time frame. There were nearly two weeks between the first two victims, and not even a week between the second and third,” Charlie said. “Plus, it’s a return to his previous M.O. but he’s escalated the mutilation, taking both eyes. There’s no discernible pattern of choosing his victims.”

“If—”

“If it’s the same guy, I
know
. You’re a scientist, I’m a police officer—I’m allowed to work from hunches, as long as I can prove it in the end.”

The door to the lab opened, and a young man came in. It was David Sever, Dr. Johanssen’s assistant lab tech. David was a grad student who worked part time in the morgue, helping Karen collect and harvest samples, and assisting with the autopsies.

Charlie studied the man. He was skinny; tall and lanky, with a rather large head. He reminded Charlie of some kind of insect—like a praying mantis or something. He was wearing blue scrubs and he had a cross necklace dangling from his neck. Charlie couldn’t imagine what working in the morgue could do to someone’s faith in religion.

“David, what’d I tell you about jewelry?” Karen reprimanded gently.

“Oh, sorry. Forgot.” David tucked the necklace inside his shirt and began scrubbing up for the autopsy Karen was about to perform. It wasn’t one from Charlie’s case, thank god.

Charlie felt vibrating inside his pants pocket, and pulled out his phone.

“Hale,” he answered.

“It’s Sonny.” The man’s voice was more gruff than usual.

“Hey, man. I’m just finishing up with Karen. About to leave.”

“Charlie, we’ve got another body. I’ll text you the address. Meet me there, ASAP.”

Sonny hung up on him, and Charlie shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Goddamn it!”

Karen and David’s heads both whipped around to face him. “What is it?” Karen asked.

“Got another one. Karen, you better put this one on ice for now. You’re going to get called to the scene any minute now.”

Chapter Five

Charlie and Sonny arrived at the Sixth Street parking deck just before sundown. A patrol unit had been parked in front of both the entrance and exit of the garage. They had their flashers on to make sure drivers knew that the deck was closed.

The two detectives took the stairs to the highest covered floor and made their way to the back corner where several uniformed officers were taping off the perimeter of the crime scene. They’d be able to do nothing but observe from the sidelines until the crime scene investigators had done their part in documenting and collecting all of the evidence.

Charlie had a bad feeling, deep in his gut. He
knew
that this was their guy. He tried not to get in the way of the investigative team while they set up their AIMS system—a high tech apparatus and mapping software used to diagram the scene, similar to those used by surveyors—but he wanted to get a look at the victim. Sometimes first impressions were everything.

Stepping up to the edge of the perimeter where the barricade was set up, Charlie got his first look at one of the most harrowing scenes of his career. She was a young girl, maybe eighteen or nineteen, slight in build and fair of skin. He could tell that her hair was platinum blonde, though very little of it had been left on her head, as her scalp had been almost completely excoriated. The first thing Charlie hypothesized was that her body had been arranged; she’d either been killed first and then positioned, or she hadn’t had the ability to move.

She lay prostrate on the cold asphalt with her head at the very corner of the parking lot. Completely bared, the pallidness of her skin glowed in the artificial lighting they’d set up. Her legs had been crossed at the ankles and her arms were similarly arranged over her chest. It was almost like she had been posed just so by a mortician, for a viewing or a funeral—almost, except for the gruesome wounds that had been inflicted upon her.

Besides the scalping, there was a horrific laceration that bisected her abdomen and cut over her right side in a ninety degree angle. The killer had basically filleted her. Even from his position a few feet away, Charlie could see the soppy mass of her internal organs inside the wound. And that wasn’t even the worst part.

Charlie blanched when he saw what had been done to her genital area; he could only extrapolate that much from the location of the wound, since they were no longer recognizable as such. The skin, muscle tissue, bone, and whatever else lay between the poor girl’s legs had been carved at, cut away, mutilated beyond all recognition. There was nothing left but a gigantic, bloody mess, a yawning, open wound the likes of which Charlie had never seen, and he had no doubt it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Giving in to the strong urge to look away, Charlie turned and searched out Sonny. His Italian-American partner was talking to a couple of uniforms, possibly the first responders. The crime scene techs had all donned their Tyvek coveralls, to keep from contaminating any of the evidence before it was collected and catalogued.

Two of the techs were taking detailed photographs, following a grid system to make sure that everything was covered. They would then join up with the investigators doing the mapping to start cataloguing any trace evidence. Once Karen arrived to document the biological evidence, Charlie and Sonny would be able to step into the crime scene.

Unlike on the TV shows, investigators usually only got one shot at a crime scene. Granted, they could stay as long as they wanted, but coming back repeatedly just wasn’t an option. There would be too much environmental contamination, and anything found would likely be inadmissible in court. That was the reason they were settling in for the long haul; Charlie was going to be there all night.

* * * *

It was around four in the morning when Charlie found himself back in the medical examiner’s office—the night ending just the way it began. Sonny had stayed at the scene after the body had been removed, supposedly to talk with the crime scene techs about their conclusions, and any and all evidence they’d collected. Secretly, Charlie thought the guy just couldn’t stomach the morgue. He’d never say it to Sonny’s face, though, unless he wanted his jaw unhinged.

Once again, Charlie was leaning up against a counter, staring at a body on a metal gurney. Karen was covered completely by a paper clothing shield, a face mask and cap, and protective eyewear, and she was elbow deep in a ‘Y’ incision. David was washing some organ or another on an adjacent table. For a brief introspective moment, Charlie couldn’t believe this was his life. He imagined doing something completely innocuous… maybe working in a coffee shop like Titus, but he quickly came to his senses. As grotesque and depressing as it was some days, his job was important, and he liked it.

“It’s just as I suspected.” Karen’s grating voice cut into his musings.

“What is?”

“This laceration on her midsection… when I first saw the body, I thought it looked remarkably like the incision a surgeon would perform for a liver transplant.”

David lifted his head from what he was working on and looked over at the body in surprise. “Has she had one? Did the killer cut open an old scar?” he asked.

Karen shook her head without lifting her eyes from the body. “No, there’s no evidence of a previous incision, no adhesions or scar tissue inside the body wall…”

“Huh,” David mused.

“But her liver
is
missing.”

“
What?
You couldn’t have led with that?” Charlie asked. “What, you think this is some kind of black market organ operation?”

“Uh-uh,” Karen said, while systematically working to remove the rest of the organs. “While our guy clearly has at least rudimentary medical knowledge—maybe more—the organ definitely was not removed with preservation in mind. It was a removal for removal’s sake.”

“But why would he do that?” David asked.

“Indeed, young David. Indeed,” Charlie said. That was the million dollar question.

“Karen, did you find anything in the initial exam before I got here?” Charlie had been delayed by a bothersome young reporter who’d gotten a lucky tip, and Dr. Johanssen had been just about to start the dissection when he’d arrived.

“Yes, actually. She had a severe case of jaundice which could indicate advanced liver failure. Without examining the actual liver, it’s hard to be sure, but I may come up with a root cause in the serology or microscopic examination. Lots of diseases can cause liver failure. Hepatitis in its various iterations, fatty liver disease… alcohol abuse, drug toxicity, cancer—although I’d have surely found evidence of those somewhere else within the body. Could also be an autoimmune disease she’s had since birth—really any bilirubin processing disorder.”

“English, Doc.”

“Sorry,” Karen muttered, not looking a bit sorry. “In laymen’s terms, she had a bum liver, but it will take much longer to figure out why without being able to examine the actual liver. This could be a break for you though…”

“How the hell…?”

“She seemed to otherwise have been taken really good care of. It’s likely that if she had some kind of liver disease, she or her family would have sought treatment for it. Surely she’s got extensive medical records out there somewhere—hell, she might even be on a transplant list. Maybe that could provide you with some clues.”

Charlie’s heart leapt. This case had been one frustration after another, from the sheer lack of information. Any little bit would help. “Karen, you’re a genius.”