"Looks like murder, pure and ugly," Karl now said, stepping in a bit closer to the god-awful remains. ''Some creep, for whatever perverted reason, douses her with gasoline, ignites her with a butane torch, if Fairfax is right, reaches out and touches you, Jessica, and he leaves his nasty little message on the mirror for us to ponder before simply walking out amid the confusion of a fire alarm while the victim is turned into so much toast on the bed."
"She went up like a marshmallow," Fairfax indelicately added. "Room is adjacent to a stairwell. My guess is he used it to escape unseen."
"Are you sure, Jessica, that you do not know the victim?" asked Repasi.
"I'm sure. Besides, even if I had known her at some time in the past, she's certainly unrecognizable now."
"All right, then you didn't know her, and perhaps she didn't know you… Then…"
"What, Karl?"
"This isn't Chris Lorentian, this Chris person wants us to believe it is she, so she can make a clean escape from whatever or whomever she's running from. So she arranges for a stand-in, and voila-one crispy-fried body."
"That's some leap," protested J. T.
"If not, then there is only one other conclusion."
All eyes turned to Repasi, and he liked the attention he was getting. Finally J. T. asked, ''And what might that be, Karl?"
"The killer knows you, Jessica."
"We don't know that," defended J. T. "I mean, he may know of her, but there's little chance he actually knows Dr. Coran."
Repasi's impish eyes threw out sparks. "Maybe it's Matisak, back from the grave. Just kidding, of course…"
J. T. instantly shouted, "That's not funny, Karl!"
"I told you, Karl," Jessica differed. "She was alive when he did her. I spoke to her, goddamn it!"
"You don't know for sure, not one hundred percent, Jessica," Repasi countered.
"I know what I heard."
"The ears can deceive. Whoever set up this elaborate game may've wanted you to believe exactly as you do. Let's say this Chris Lorentian person was trying to hide from, from whatever. What better way than to fake her own death? Another possibility is that the sounds you heard were prerecorded."
She swallowed hard. "I hope you're right, but I rather doubt your theory will pan out, Karl."
"For all we know, this person here may've been dead when she was put to the torch," Repasi added. "The killer or killers could've taped the screams earlier, played her screams into the receiver for your benefit, and-"
"I held a conversation with her."
"The kind of technology that's available these days, that, too, can be explained away."
"No, it was a conversation. She responded to my words. That couldn't have been arranged for my benefit. God," she said with a moan. "For my benefit. You hear what that implies?"
Repasi put up a consoling hand to her and said, "He or they might've fired up the bed, maybe… but just to burn her alive? We best not assume anything, Jess. He or they could've put her out with an injection, a ball peen hammer, any number of-"
"You've no way of knowing that until an autopsy is performed, not in the condition she's in," countered J. T.
"Not a mark on her other than the catastrophic results of.. the flames?" Repasi theatrically asked. "Impossible to say here and now, correct."
"Are you taking charge here, Karl?" asked J. T.
"Not likely. I hear Lester's someplace in the hotel, probably at the gambling tables." Lester Osborne had been the Las Vegas City coroner for the past ten years, and he'd been most instrumental in getting them all here to Las Vegas, or so Jessica understood. Osborne was on the steering committee that had chosen the Flamingo Hilton as their rendezvous point.
"Come on, Jess," suggested J. T. "Let's leave this mess for Karl and Lester, then."
"I want photos of the mirror, the message, the body all sent to… to Quantico, to Eriq Santiva, Karl. You understand?'' she asked, finding the steel she needed for a graceful exit.
Repasi nodded reassuringly, saying, "Consider it done. I think Thorpe's right. You're too personally involved in this one, and you look like a ghost, Jess. Better get out of here, now."
''Let me know what you and Osborne learn at autopsy,'' she countered, getting in the last word.
Jessica, feeling emotionally overcome, now willingly allowed J. T. to guide her from the death room and down the hallway, where she removed the plastic coverings from her feet. There, suddenly the elevator doors opened and a grinning Dr. Lester Osborne, his round head speckled with freckles, appeared like a hefty ostrich in a plumed baby blue tuxedo that screamed eccentricity and bad taste, a lethal fashion dose.
A small, potbellied man in bow tie and ruffles, Lester stepped high and energetically off the elevator with his black bag in hand, and now he stood before them, his eyes instantly going to Jessica's bare feet. "Cute," he muttered, "but I would've imagined you did your nails in red or black."
"Dr. Lester," replied J. T., "you've got a handful down the hall."
"So I hear. Well, Doctors, hello and welcome to Las Vegas just the same, and how was your flight out from D.C.?"
"They've got a badly burned murder victim inside, Lester," replied J. T. "I think you're needed by the fire marshal. Repasi's in there with the fire team now."
While Lester balked mentally at learning about Repasi's interest, he kept silent about it and nonchalantly replied, "No one's going anywhere, besides… what with all of you here and Repasi on the inside, who needs an old fart like me in the way?" He looked down the hallway to where Karl Repasi stood shaking his head, a curl of smoke issuing from the death room crowning the man, creating an aura about him, making him look more devilish than usual. "Look at that bastard," Osborne finally noted, sending Jessica's eyes back toward Repasi. "I guess I can't let Karl beat me in my own hometown, now can I?''
"I want you to know, Lester," began Jessica, "that the victim was alive when the killer put the torch to her. I heard the sudden rush of fire, obviously, when he ignited the body with the torch."
"She? The victim? Torched? And you heard it all?"
"Burned alive, Lester."
"And you can tell that at a single glance, can you, Jessica? What a miraculous pair of eyes you've developed over the past few years. Have you become psychic as well, Jessica? Your old man would be proud, but I think he would also be cautioning you-"
Jessica didn't want to give Repasi the pleasure of repeating her story to Lester Osborne. If he must hear it, he'd hear it from her.
J. T. tried to usher her onto the elevator, but she pulled free from his grasp and continued. "The victim was speaking to me on the phone when he killed her, Lester. He obviously planned it that way. He arranged to murder her for me to… to-''
"For you?"
"For my benefit. For some twisted purpose I can't begin to-"
"Then he-whoever this vile person is-intended for you to be involved in the autopsy, no doubt," J. T. suddenly realized. "He killed her because…" He brought himself up short.
"To test me," she replied. "To test my abilities against his, to test my reputation? To make a reputation for himself?"
"Dear God," added Osborne. "How utterly-"
"Insane," supplied J. T.
"Ruthless," finished Osborne.
Repasi had joined them, and overhearing, he added,
"Your reputation always did precede you, Jessica."
J. T. instantly reacted. "Not funny, Karl."
Jessica muttered in soft response, ''He has killed someone simply to… God forbid… to test me. It's too much… too damned much to deal with.''
"Come on, Jessica," urged J. T. "I'm taking you to your room."
"Yes, okay… I've got to find my shoes and change."