9

TRIPLE THREAT

Fiona sipped coffee from an enormous mug while she stood over the Bakers’ dead bodies. Forensic science was fascinating, but it was complicated. Danny had learned that to think like a forensic cop, you had to think of a world you could not see, a place where every molecule told a story. He didn’t know what the hell that meant exactly, but he knew Fiona was good at her job and he trusted her.

Fiona’s lab was one of those white, sterile rooms where you had to wear latex gloves and paper on your shoes. It was cold as hell, and Danny got a chill every time he came here. The place was creepy, filled with bloody solutions and dead bodies. Not the kind of place for a street cop.

And what was worse, the room reminded Danny that his mother’s body had been in one of these rooms not long ago, on a slab being examined by a doctor. He’d tried to stop the procedure, but it was routine in such cases. It was ruled death by accident.

“Well, I thought this was going to be some boring shit, but I was wrong,” said Fiona as she put down her mug and grabbed a clipboard. “Our boy is a sadistic bastard and very smart.”

Danny looked at Fiona with her all-white skin, wearing a white lab coat against the white walls of the room. If he blinked hard enough, he’d lose her in the whiteness.

“Give me the sadistic part first,” said Danny.

“He knocked them out with chloroform. Since the wounds show that the victims moved, the asshole waited for them to wake up. Then he shot them with a .22. Only like a million of those in the city, right? And we got slugs, but they’ve been doctored. Check this shit out.”

Fiona grabbed a pan. About seven lead slugs rolled inside. She put one under a projector and an image jumped onto a screen.

“What in the fuck is that?” asked Erik.

“That’s what killed your victims,” said Fiona.

“That ain’t no ordinary bullet,” said Danny. “It looks like a jagged rock.”

The picture on the screen showed a dark shape with peaks and valleys cut into it.

“Yes,” said Fiona. “Our killer filed the tips of the little bullets, so they would be sharp and jagged after they fired. That way, after the bullet entered the body, it would hurt you three times. Once when it went in, again as it tore through tissue and organs, then the third time when you moved—it would move and do even more damage.”

Fiona took another swig of coffee and Danny wondered how long it had taken her to be able to consume food around dead people. She put down her mug, and Danny noticed the faded picture of a ballerina on it. He remembered that Fiona had trained as a dancer in her younger days.

“The male victim was shot four times—in the heart, liver, and spleen areas,” she continued. “Our killer knew that these areas would do the most damage. The body filled up with bile, blood, and other fluids and he drowned in them.”

“But it would take time, right?” asked Danny. “How much time?”

“Depends on the person, the shot, and other factors,” said Fiona. “I’d guess it took them a half hour or so before they were pretty much goners. Now, the woman was shot in the same manner, but one of the slugs is still in her. It impacted some bone.”

“Okay, so what else did our boy leave at the crime scene?” asked Danny.

“Not much,” said Fiona. “We found some fibers that didn’t match anything in the bedroom, but they are so common, they could belong to anyone. We found powder residue used in the making of surgical gloves, so we know why there were no fingerprints at the scene.”

“Hair, skin, blood?” asked Danny. Even he could hear the desperation in his voice.

Nada,” said Fiona. “That’s the smart part. Our boy is no dummy. He knows enough about forensics that he was not going to get sloppy.” Fiona smiled at them. “Fellas, you got yourself a goddamned dilly of a murderer.”

“How many sweeps did you do of the house?” asked Erik.

“Two,” said Fiona.

“Do another one,” said Erik.

“Okay, but we won’t find anything,” Fiona said. “I’ve seen a lot of sick bastards in this town, and I’m telling you, this guy’s gonna be on my top ten. You know, these stiffs, the Bakers, had one helluva bad week. We found dog hairs in the house, but no dog, right? Turns out their dog died.”

“How?” asked Danny.

“I know what you thinking,” said Fiona. “It wasn’t shot. We found the records from a vet. The mutt died of old age.”

Fiona finished up her report then Danny and Erik left. Danny felt his body warm as soon as he stepped into the hallway. Erik looked pissed about something. He walked along, his steps falling a little harder than normal.

“What’s up?” asked Danny.

“I had some downtime coming,” he said. “But now it’s not gonna happen.”

“Probably not. The boss will want us on this full time.”

“Marsha and me were going to Mackinaw. Boating, fishing, fucking. I had it all planned,” said Erik.

“If it’s that important, we can ask Jim to let you off,” said Danny.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Solve this case by yourself and get a promotion?”

“Did I say that?”

“No, but you were thinking it,” said Erik. “I know you.”

“Then you know I was just trying to be nice. I don’t want your ass to go anywhere while this guy’s out there. There ain’t nobody in the squad who can cover my back the way I work.”

They walked out of the forensic area not saying another word. Danny was sure that Erik was thinking about how he was going to tell his wife that she’d be stuck in Detroit for the rest of the spring. Danny was thinking that if the killer had a plan, it was mysterious and so elaborate that he’d invented a unique and terrible new way to kill.