“ But only if I stay off my legs.”
“ If you don't mind my saying so. Doctor, maybe you're doing yourself a… a disservice.”
“ I don't put much store in what the doctors have told me. Besides, I'm stubborn, and I'm in a profession that doesn't allow you to be on your behind, so…” She paused. “As for the cane, it's kinda become a part of me; lends character, don't you think?” She smiled. “And it's a constant reminder to never again be naive or foolish.”
“ Tell you this much, Dr. Coran.”
“ What's that, Lou?”
“ Sure hasn't slowed Captain Rychman down; I think he likes your character, if you get my drift.”
“ I think I do.”
“ The Captain, he knows good character.”
Lou returned his attention to the road, and her thoughts drifted back to the Claw. The psycho seemed to be baiting them all, taunting an entire population, daring them to come nearer and nearer only to discover a phantom they could never actually put their hands on, much less cage. More and more, the Claw reminded her of Stainlype, but she wanted to cling to the belief that he was two separate physical beings, and not the single being that Stainlype/Sims had been.
She mentally began to psych herself up for what lay ahead, knowing she could not fully do so until she was in the midst of the carnage with her eyes and hands directly over the remains left her by the Claw.
The squad car pulled up to the police barricade, and when she got out she saw the reporters, among them Jim Drake, who gave a perfunctory wave from the sidelines. She hurried toward the door that would take her into the nice-looking little bungalow that had become a torture chamber for its inhabitants.
Rychman stepped out onto the front stoop and stopped her before she entered the house, saying, “Brace yourself, Jessica. It's the worst yet.”
“ I can handle it,” she said flatly, about to move past him.
“ I managed to secure the scene, and we were able to keep the bodies intact, where they were left. Dr. Darius is inside.”
“ Dr. Darius? I thought he was-”
“ In good shape and saucy as ever. Between the two of you, get us something we can go on.”
“ No witnesses, I assume.”
“ No one useful, and little hope in that direction. We have determined that one of the victims doesn't live here.” The younger woman?”
“ No, the old lady. The younger one lived here alone, parents are Upstate, Albany area. No one knows who the old woman is, and there's no identifying her. Missing Persons is working on a match, but so far, zip. Jess, did anyone inform you of… of the fact that-”
“ It's a little scary, about the brains, Alan, but it simply stood to reason. He treats a corpse like his personal smorgasbord. He was bound to get to the entree soon, the only major organ he had left untouched so far. I'd better get inside now.”
“ Sure… Meantime, the task force detectives are fanned out, checking every possible lead, asking questions. Seems a neighbor became curious when she saw a strange car out her back window. Made a call to the Olin woman-the young one-but got no answer. She didn't see the car's occupant enter or exit. I've got O’Toole and Mannion trying to jog her memory regarding the vehicle.”
She nodded and entered the death house, Rychman just behind her. He watched her go to where Darius was kneeling over the body of the older woman, whose head, like that of the Olin woman, was split completely open, the brains scooped clean from the cranium.
Jessica sensed that Alan was nearby, and part of her wanted him there. She had managed to keep her eye from wandering to the center of the brutality here, concentrating on the details of the crime scene first to maintain her professional bearing. She knew that Darius had already passed through this phase, because he was now on his knees with his gloved hands inside the open wounds, searching for clues to the double murder.
She registered the blood trails and strange trajectories in the foyer, on the walls and floorboards; on the surface, it looked as if Miss Olin had struggled to get away from her attacker at the open door. She might have been tripped or become disoriented. A large pool of blood showed the exact location where she'd been rendered unconscious by a blow to the head. The blow had sent her into a convulsive state, if the reading of the blood trail could be believed. There was much smeared blood, because each body had been dragged into the center of the living room. At least, these were her initial impressions. At the moment she could only speculate, but she guessed that Darius had to have seen the same tell-tale signs as she.
The air was stale, thick and rank with odors meant only for the embalming room. A police photographer was snapping shots of the two victims, and Darius was grumbling to himself and shaking his head sadly. Darius' form was thin and small and white-haired, making him look like one of Santa's elves as he knelt over the deceased. His snowy-white hair was in sharp contrast to the blood and bile on his hands when he turned to greet her. His handlebar mustache was also white and it tweaked from side to side as he tried to scratch an itch below it without the use of his soiled hands.
Jessica had suited up and she reached out her gloved right hand to take Dr. Darius' as she said, “I've so wanted to meet with you and work with you; I'm just sorry it has to be under such horrid conditions.”
“ Yes, well, I've been anxious to meet you, too, Dr. Coran. I knew your father for a time; excellent medical examiner.”
“ Thank you. He always spoke very highly of you, too, sir.”
“ I worked on a case with your father once; had to do with a bit of an epidemic here in the city back in the late fifties. After it was over, I offered him a job with my office, but he was stubborn; thought he could improve the military, so he stayed in. What a waste, I thought at the time, but he did make a difference in the way M.E. s in the service are perceived, wouldn't you agree?”
“ Yes, he did, and he spoke of your work together often.”
“ I was so sorry to hear of his illness and his passing.”
“ Thank you, Dr. Darius.”
“ Well, we'd better earn our keep here. We'll have to talk later,” he said. “As usual, the Claw has us up to our hips in gore for reasons unknown.”
Darius offered her his jar of Vicks VapoRub to cut the stench, but she declined, pulling forth scented cotton balls, which she offered him.
“ Oh, something new?”
“ It beats Vicks for this.”
“ I'll try them next time.”
“ We've got to ensure that there will not be a next time.”
“ Right you are, but I fear otherwise, my dear.”
The old coroner returned to his work, and for the first time Jessica allowed her eyes to take in the full extent of the damnable, godless crime against these women. They were filleted from throat to groin, their intestines removed and looped in the neat little coil that had become the trademark signature of the Claw, along with the crushed skulls where he had used his awful hammer. The two bodies had been robbed of their organs, she guessed, as in the past, and added to this horror was the missing gray matter from each skull. From the appearance of the heads, the brain tissue was removed after a surgical-like incision by a rough cutting instrument, most likely the same instrument used on the torsos. Once again the eyes had been removed, presumably eaten.
Jessica felt a wave of revulsion sweep over her, but she managed to maintain a firm hold on her emotions. She kneeled beside Dr. Darius, trying to keep her sanity and professional edge. Darius had found his amid this; she must do likewise.
Darius, as if to help her along, held up a kidney that he had fished from the soup of the younger woman's body.
“ What do you make of this, Doctor?”
“ She was suffering jaundice?”
“ You might think so, but guess again.”
The kidney was shriveled, tiny even, and the color was that of a several-days'-old pate. “It's… it's not her kidney. It's the old woman's?”