I put on a friendly smile, forcing my face into the position. “Ah, I see. I’ll have to get you up to speed, then.”
“I’ve read the files,” he said flatly. “I was only hoping that Dr. Lanza had some recollection of the markings from when the previous Symbol Man was working this area.”
Dr. Lanza shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint you. The only Symbol Man victim I posted was three years ago, right after I first came over here. We had a hard time finding the symbol at first, and even when we did it was tough to make it out. I just trusted the detectives when they said that it matched the others.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m sorry, Agent Kristoff, but you keep saying ‘the previous Symbol Man.’ What makes you think this isn’t the work of the same person?”
His expression shifted to something between a glower and a smirk. “I’m not willing to jump to the immediate conclusion that this is the same person. That line of thinking would limit the investigation far too much, and I don’t think that would be a wise thing to do so early on.”
Holy shit, how I wished I could smack the smug right off his face! But through sheer force of will I managed to merely give a shrug and a nod. “I suppose I can see that point of view. But, in my opinion, it’s a waste of time and resources to be looking for other options when so much of the data and evidence points to it being the same person. Sure,” I hurried to continue when he opened his mouth to speak, “I can understand that we need to keep other options open, but I prefer to keep them on the back burner at the moment, unless some compelling evidence comes up to give us more of an idea that it’s a different individual.” I tilted my head and smiled. “I’m pretty familiar with the case and the symbol and all of his methodology.” And the arcane traces, I added silently. “So I figure that if this guy is a copycat, he’s a damn good one. Which means that he’ll most likely follow the same methodology as in the previous murders. Which means that focusing on that methodology would be a good thing.” I found myself masking a grin. Had I really just said all that?
I could see a muscle in his jaw twitch. He opened his mouth to reply, but Doc spoke, interrupting the brittle tableau.
“She was strangled repeatedly.”
Agent Kristoff and I both turned to Doc. I stepped over to the table. “Repeatedly?” I asked, peering down at the neck muscles that had been peeled back.
“See the bruising?” he said, pointing to clots of blood within the muscle with the tip of his scalpel. “It’s in several lines across these strap muscles. She died of ligature strangulation, but it was tightened and loosened several times.”
“More torture,” I murmured. “Poor thing.” I wanted to add, Just like his other victims, for Agent Kristoff’s benefit, but managed to resist.
Doc grimaced. “Yeah, she didn’t die easy, that’s for sure.”
I glanced at Agent Kristoff. He was watching me again, those too-pretty eyes fixed on me and an unreadable expression on his face. He shifted his gaze back to the body when he saw my attention, not speaking.
I felt another flare of annoyance. Was he looking down on me because I expressed sympathy for the victim? I’d run into that a time or two among other police officers—disdain for people who’d lived the sort of lifestyle that made them easy prey.
Well, if he’s that sort, he won’t last long on my task force, I decided. Not that I was sure I even had the power to remove people, but it made me feel better to think it.
We stepped back as Carl snapped pictures of each layer of muscle, showing the depth and position of the bruising. Then Dr. Lanza took a pair of scissors and removed the throat. I watched him as he palpated the trachea.
“Hyoid bone’s fractured. Definitely a strangulation.”
This wasn’t a surprise, since the markings had been so livid on the girl’s neck, plus there’d been so much haemorrhaging in her eyes and face. But it was still hard hearing it actually said out loud. It was almost as if it could be denied, as if the obscene cruelty had not occurred if it was not voiced.
“So that was the cause of death?” I asked.
Doc nodded and set the section of throat aside. “That’s what I’m going to put in my report. I mean, she’s suffered a ton of other trauma, but as hideous as it all is, none of it’s life-threatening. She was tortured for probably close to a week, then killed slowly.”
“Fucker,” Agent Kristoff muttered. I glanced at him, then back to the body. Finally something we could agree on.
“But I think she was bled too,” Doc continued.
A cold knot formed in my gut. “What do you mean?”
Doc lifted her arm and pointed to a notch cut in the crook of her elbow. “The vein is nicked there, and there are similar cuts in the other elbow and in her ankles.” My sick horror grew as Doc pointed out the notches in the veins. I’d missed those deeper cuts among all the other shallow ones. Had those been on the other victims? After a couple of weeks of decomposition, there’d be no way to tell with all of the other trauma.
“So she might have died of blood loss?” Agent Kristoff asked.
Doc shook his head. “No. She died of the strangulation, but she could have lost up to a liter of blood and still been alive when he decided to finish her off with the ligature.”
I suppressed a shudder, with effort. This was very unwelcome news. Especially with the arcane traces on the body and the timing of this new murder. Bloodletting and death magic were an ugly combination that could lead to all sorts of unpleasant possibilities.
Dr. Lanza stepped back and motioned to Carl to take over and sew the body up. He peeled off his bloody gloves, then stripped off the apron and plastic smock and tossed both into a wastebasket with a red plastic liner. “I’m just glad that this one was so fresh. I’d say that she’d been dead only a few hours when she was found. Rigor was beginning to recede and lividity wasn’t fixed.”
“Can you give a closer estimate of time of death?” Agent Kristoff asked as I pulled my gloves and shoe covers off and dropped them into the same biohazard container.
“Nope,” Doc said flatly as he picked up his clipboard and started to make notes. “Time of death is pretty inexact and depends on too many different factors, despite what you see on TV. Unless the death is witnessed, all the other factors are merely sufficient to give a range of time. Skin slippage—when the body decomposes enough that the outer layer of skin starts to slough off—is usually around three days, but that can be hastened or slowed by humidity, temperature, etcetera. Rigor mortis can come and go anywhere from three to thirty-six hours, depending on the person’s physical condition and what they were doing right before they died. Lividity—the settling of blood in the body—is a good indicator, but even that gives us a pretty broad range of time.”
I resisted the urge to smirk. I’d been through this with Doc before. People were always trying to pin him down about time of death, but he maintained that if he was the one who had to get on the stand and testify to it, he wasn’t going to just guesstimate. Especially since, most of the time, it really didn’t make a difference.
“Very well, then,” Agent Kristoff said, extending his hand to Doc. “I appreciate you allowing me in to view this autopsy, Dr. Lanza. I’ll be heading back to the office now.”
Dr. Lanza shook his hand. “Glad to have you.”
Agent Kristoff gave me a slight nod, then brushed past me and exited.
Doc glanced at me. “Don’t sweat it, Kara. Maybe his mind’s on something else.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said with a scowl, unconvinced. Or maybe a pair of pretty eyes is wasted on a total prick.
CHAPTER 6
I kept my promise to myself and went home to change clothes as soon as I finished at the morgue. This time I made a point of dressing as if I actually had a clue about being a detective, pulling on black twill pants and a tailored blue shirt, belting on my Glock 9mm and badge, and telling myself that this was not because I might see the obnoxious Special Agent Kristoff again. I was just trying to look professional. Yeah, right, a tiny voice in my head mocked me. But I also took the time to brush my hair out and apply proper makeup. Just trying to look professional.