Deadly Justice

11

THE BRUNETTE DUTY OFFICER at the front desk gave Sergeant Tomlinson directions to the X-ray room. She was good-looking and, by all indications, interested. But he wasn’t. Not that she didn’t appeal. He just had a hunch Karen wouldn’t approve, and he wasn’t about to put his relationship with his wife and daughter at risk for a quick romp with the duty officer.

He pressed the button outside the X-ray room, and a moment later the automatic lock released and the door; popped open. Good—Koregai must have received his message. Tomlinson had called ahead and learned that Koregai was doing a rework on the second of the three corpses. Sounded like a golden opportunity to Tomlinson; he crossed town in less than fifteen minutes. Of course, the blaring siren on his car helped somewhat.

Koregai had been the downtown coroner for years, far longer than Tomlinson had been on the force. In that time, Koregai had become the stuff of legends. Notoriously difficult to work with, he seemed to think that the entire law enforcement division existed solely for his benefit and pleasure. He chafed at commands and resisted all direct orders; pushy demands had a mysterious habit of causing autopsy reports to be delayed or lost. He probably would’ve been dumped long ago, if not for the fact that he was the best in the state at his job, and he was even better in the courtroom.

Tomlinson approached the table in the center of the dark room. An icy blue female corpse atop the table gave off an eerie glow under the dim fluorescent lighting. Tomlinson didn’t have to ask who she was; the absence of her head and her hands explained everything.

“I’m Sergeant Tomlinson. I’d like to observe if possible.”

There was no response from Koregai, not even a grunt.

Tomlinson decided to take his silence as approval. He read the clipboard at the end of the table. The preliminary autopsy report was on top. Tomlinson scanned the form; the phrase within normal limits jumped out at him time after time. The only deviation from the norm appeared at the bottom of the page. In the space labelled ABNORMALITIES, Koregai had scrawled: No head, no hands.

Very informative.

Koregai extinguished the overhead light. He was a short, dark man of Asian-American descent. Hardly friendly, but that was all right with Tomlinson; he couldn’t imagine anything worse than a chummy coroner. Koregai flipped the power switch on a gray box about the size of a toaster oven. A row of green lights danced across the front of the device. He picked up a small metal wand connected to the box by a spiraling cord.

The coroner activated a small tape recorder, then pressed a button on the wand. A blue beam of light emerged.

“What’s that?” Tomlinson asked.

To his surprise, Koregai answered. “Laser,” he muttered.

“What does it do?”

Koregai pressed the wand against the top left clavicle of the corpse. Slowly, methodically, he scanned her entire body, an inch at a time. “Theoretically, the synchronized laser light stimulates atoms so as to cause them to emit light in phase.”

“Oh really,” Tomlinson said. If the police academy covered this, he must’ve been absent that day. “And that’s desirable?”

“So I am told. It is supposed to make visible what would not otherwise be so.”

“I get it. Fibers. Trace evidence.”

“Exactly. Or fingerprints.”

“Wow.” Tomlinson stepped forward into the blue glow. “What a great gadget. It must be a tremendous help to you.”

“Hmmph.” Koregai’s gloved fingers moved the wand down the torso. “High-tech vacuum cleaner.”

Tomlinson observed the subtle note of disapproval and changed subjects. “I’m surprised this hasn’t been done already.”

Koregai paused for the barest of seconds, then proceeded with his examination. “I have already examined the corpse. Thoroughly.”

Tomlinson was beginning to catch on. “Then this rework wasn’t your idea?”

“No. Decidedly not.” Koregai’s fingers pressed against the flesh surrounding her pelvis, letting the light refract at a variety of angles. “They have become desperate, because they want this killer so badly. Unfortunately, they have no clues, no evidence. The killer is too careful. He has cleaned his victim, removed all trace evidence. That is why I found nothing before. That is why I find nothing now.”

This unwanted assignment might be a hassle to Koregai, but it was a blessing for Tomlinson. Angry, Koregai was uncharacteristically talkative. “You haven’t found anything of interest?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I just thought maybe if I knew what you knew, maybe I could find something in the field that would”—he straggled for words; obsequiousness was not his strong suit—“that would assist you in preparing your report.”

“Are you working on this investigation?”

“Uh…yes. Unofficially.”

“Unofficially?” Koregai’s forehead wrinkled, then he resumed his work. “Might as well. The official investigators need all the assistance they can get.”

Tomlinson suddenly shot forward, jarring the table. “What’s that?”

Koregai lost his balance and fell to one side. “By all that’s—” He muttered some words in a language Tomlinson didn’t understand. “I want you to leave immed—”

“I thought I saw something!” Tomlinson said hurriedly. “Something in the blue light.”

Frowning, Koregai returned the wand to the body. He was scanning the center pelvis, just above the pubic hair.

“A little higher.”

Koregai obediently elevated the wand. He moved it back and forth, then rotated it, letting the light sparkle and radiate. After a few more moments, he saw what had caught Tomlinson’s attention. With a small pair of tweezers, he removed a stray hair. He dropped the hair into a glass vial.

“What do you think it means?” Tomlinson asked.

“I…don’t know. Will have to run tests…”

Tomlinson could see that Koregai was disturbed. He was accustomed to being flawless. Now some stupid police sergeant had seen him make a mistake.

“Look, Dr. Koregai, I’m sorry I startled you like that. I’m sure you would’ve seen that hair in a second. In fact, you probably noticed it when you did your preliminary report. It just didn’t seem important enough to write down.”

Koregai stopped his work, shut off his tape recorder, and peered at Tomlinson. Gradually, his face relaxed; he realized a peace offering was being extended. “Is there…some way I can help…you?”

Tomlinson smiled. “I don’t know, Doc. Have you come across anything during your examinations of the three corpses that might give me a leg up? Something everyone else has overlooked, or didn’t think was important. It might be the most trivial detail in the world to you, but it might break the case wide open for me.”

Koregai stood for a moment, poised in thought. Without speaking, he turned back to the corpse and gently lifted her left breast with the wand. On the underside of the breast, in the blue glow, Tomlinson saw a small tattoo. It was a butterfly, with a garland of flowers across its wings.

Tomlinson knew that the coroner could determine how long ago the ink had stained the skin. “How old?”

“The tattoo is of recent origin.”

“Has anyone else seen this?”

Koregai nodded. “It’s in my report. But they don’t know what to do with it. They attempted to trace it. Without success.”

Tomlinson beamed. “Thanks, Doctor. I really appreciate it. And if you get anything on that hair, please let me know.”

Koregai bowed politely, then returned to his work.

Tomlinson raced out of the X-ray room. He wished he could follow up on this lead right away, but unfortunately there was a switchboard waiting for him and he was already late. That was all right; he’d probably have more luck after midnight anyway.

He could understand why no one else knew what to do with the tattoo. They probably classified it as a detail that could confirm a suspected identity, but was of no value in identifying an unknown.

And that’s where they were wrong. Maybe the tattoo didn’t mean anything to the hotshot detectives, but it meant a lot to Torrdinson. Especially combined with what he had figured out already.

Tonight he was going to get lucky.