The Crying Season (Detectives Kane and Alton) - Page 30

Kane nodded. “Nothing from his hometown either, we heard from the detective working the case this morning. I’m heading over to the morgue to get the preliminary autopsy reports. Get onto the main database and track down any violence against women reports in the last couple of years. It’s a long shot but we need to know if any of these people knew each other.” He glanced around the too quiet office. “The sheriff is chasing down some leads but she’ll be in soon.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

The sight of Wolfe’s teenage daughter, Emily, sitting at the front counter surprised him although he was aware her studies in forensic science often brought her to the morgue. She was sitting beside Webber, and

they were so engrossed in whatever they were doing, they did not hear him enter the building. After Wolfe had made a point of not wanting Emily involved with Webber, he slapped a hand on the desk. The sound cracked like a whip. “Morning.”

Deputy Webber shot to his feet as if launched from a cannon. “Sir?”

“Deputy Kane.” Emily gave him a brilliant smile. “Dad is waiting for you. I’ve been explaining the new filing system to Cole.”

Kane gave Webber a long stare then cleared his throat. “So I see.”

“Oh, the latest homicide is incredibly interesting.” Emily stood and led the way to the morgue. “Dad has been working all hours to get it finished; he even allowed me to assist, along with Cole of course.”

The idea that she found dismembered bodies “incredibly interesting” amused him in a macabre way. He couldn’t help grinning at her. “I thought you might. You sure are your daddy’s daughter.” He shortened his step to keep pace beside her as they walked down the hallway. “I don’t think you’ll have trouble in medical school.”

“I’m studying forensic pathology. I could have studied to become a medical doctor but curing people is not what I have in mind. I want to discover what killed them.” She sighed and shook her head. “It depends on what state you live in as to what qualifications you require; some coroners are medical doctors but some can be the local undertaker. I’m studying forensic pathology because it’s the most useful, in my opinion, and of course the laws pertaining to homicide.” She glanced up at him. “Do you think I’m weird?”

Kane swallowed his chuckle and shook his head. “Not at all. You know what you want in life and that is a good thing. Your dad is a genius. He never stops studying one subject or another and you’re going to be the same.”

“Hmm, he does have a superior intellect. I guess that’s why he spent so much time working for—” She stopped speaking mid-sentence and glanced up at Kane; her cheeks pinked and she coughed. “The local hospital.”

Dear Lord, Wolfe had told her he once worked for the government and she nearly blurted it out in front of Webber. He said the first lie to come to his mind to cover her lapse in judgment. “Yeah, he told me, and as a computer programmer, I believe?”

“Yes. That’s right.” Emily gave him a sideways glance then stared straight ahead.

The smell of the morgue drifted toward them with each step along the stark-white passageway. It had its own unique odor of chemicals and death. The air extractors were working overtime but as Emily pushed through the door, the stink hit him full force. Inside it was cold, very cold, like stepping into a refrigerator, and he figured the temperature was low to slow down the decomposition of the bodies. He pulled a face mask from his pocket and jammed it over his nose.

Wolfe lifted his blond head from a microscope as they entered, then straightened.

“Ah, good. I want to get John Doe back on ice. The smell is getting a bit overwhelming even for me in here.”

Kane’s stomach gave a backflip at the sight of the two gurneys covered with white sheets, and the memory of the scattered half-eaten limbs and Bailey’s staring eyes flashed into his memory. He pushed the images into the dark recesses of his mind and moved his attention back to Wolfe. “Could you get a cause of death from the mess we found?”

“As a matter of fact, I discovered quite a few interesting facts.” Wolfe pulled back the sheet on the reassembled remains of John Doe. “I’ll explain but first, I found three different blood samples. It is very unusual to find three different blood groups in a group of one hundred people, let alone three.”

Intrigued by Wolfe’s enthusiasm, Kane rubbed his chin. “Okay.”

“The majority of people in America are O Rh-positive. The male victim is B Rh-positive and the female O Rh-positive but I found a few drops of A Rh-positive as well, not a lot. It was on Bailey Canavar’s hands.” Wolfe moved to a pile of bloodstained clothing. “These have labels from Chinese retailers; add to this the majority of people of Asian descent have type B blood, I would have to assume our John Doe is a visitor from China.” His eyes twinkled over his mask. “We have to assume our killer is injured and type A blood. This is also a very common Caucasian blood type. Without a sample of Jim Canavar’s blood, I would need to obtain a sample of his mother’s DNA to check it against, and mitochondrial matches are the most accurate.”

Kane folded his arms across his chest. “So this confirms there were three people involved but why would the blood be on Bailey’s hands unless she stabbed her assailant?” He stared at the corpse; seeing the bits and pieces lined up and the Y-shaped stitching on the victim’s chest made him think of Frankenstein’s monster. “So, can we rule John Doe out as Bailey’s killer?”

“Not entirely.” Wolfe moved to the gurney. “The killer strangled John Doe. The marks on his neck are clear impressions of thumbs digging into the throat as if the killer lifted him up by his neck. In most cases a chokehold like this restricts oxygen to the brain and we would see petechial hemorrhages of the eyes, but due to the extent of the facial damage, I had to look for proof of cause of death elsewhere.” He indicated to the marks on the man’s throat.

Kane moved closer. “Yeah, that’s pretty clear, but that could have happened in a fight— what proof do you have he was choked to death?”

“He has a fractured hyoid bone.” Wolfe turned to an X-ray illuminated on a screen. “See here, and here? His larynx is crushed and a laryngeal fracture would restrict air flow to the brain enough to cause asphyxiation.”

Questions stormed into Kane’s mind and he gathered his thoughts, staring at the pile of body parts that once was a man. “My first question to make all this relevant is who died first?”

“Time of death is the same. I would estimate they died sometime on Wednesday. I believe Bailey died first but I can only go on the blood spatter evidence. Some of Bailey’s blood was overlaid by John Doe’s.” Wolfe opened images on his iPad and showed them to him. “I found her blood under a discarded shirt, and his blood was on the uppermost side of the shirt and on a bush beside the shirt.”

“So if he killed Bailey and was attacked by Jim and killed, why would Jim hack him to pieces before heading for the hills?” Kane stared at the corpse, and vivid memories of crimes involving underworld criminals came to mind. “Did you find his hands?”

“Nope and we found no viable prints at the scene either. I hoped to find evidence on the clothes but the killer or killers wore gloves.” Wolfe lifted his chin and his eyes narrowed. “John Doe’s teeth are missing as well. They should have been at the scene but the lower part of his mandible is completely gone.”

Tags: D.K. Hood Mystery
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