Fatal Instinct

Thirteen

Jessica Coran and Dr. Luther Darius had enjoyed a peaceful breakfast. Darius had shut off his beeper, as was his habit when he had had enough. He'd announced the fact with a mischievous grin. While they'd eaten, they'd been treated to a delightful sunrise in New York Harbor where the tugboats bellowed out their intentions and large freighters and cruise ships were assembled below the watching eyes of thousands of sea gulls.

As they walked back to the lab, their heads cleared of the spider webs that had accumulated from lack of sleep. Each was anxious to get deeply involved in the forensics information they had gathered, and Jessica was particularly interested in hearing from J.T. in Quantico.

They spoke of many things, but the conversation somehow worked its way back to Darius' physical condition and his present situation with the coroner's office.

“ They're shopping around for a replacement, but haven't done so well. Who wants the headaches? I gave it the best years of my life, and what happens? The moment I have a bit of a health problem, they want to discard me like yesterday's newspaper.”

“ I'd say a stroke is more than a little health problem, Doctor.”

He frowned. “It was a small stroke.”

“ And now they've asked you to return?”

“ Until they can find a suitable replacement.”

“ No one could replace you.”

“ We're all expendable, Dr. Coran, believe me.”

She knew what he meant. She felt her relationship with her own superiors was shaky and she mentioned this. Then you have some idea how they can make an old man feel.”

They spoke no more, simply enjoying the walk and the company.

When they arrived at the lab, they found the place buzzing and learned the search for them had been on. Apparently the police had located and entered the apartment of the elderly woman, and it was clear that she had been killed by the Claw in her Brooklyn apartment-miles from Scarsdale.

“ I want to get out there,” she told Dr. Darius.

“ Archer is there; he will do a fine job. You should get to work here.”

She took a deep breath, considering this. “Perhaps you're right.”

He smiled. “I am right. I am always right.”

A few hours later Jessica stopped work and went to the telephone in the office that was temporarily hers. She dialed FBI headquarters in Quantico. Her assistant, J.T., came on with a glum tone, and after the amenities, she asked him what was wrong.

“ I got back this morning and found your first-priority case was back-shelved.”

“ What?”

“ I had Glenn working on the materials you forwarded, thought all was going well, and then found out O'Rourke ordered him off it and onto something she called more pressing.”

“ God damn her. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she was trying to drive me out. Undermining every damned thing I do, lately.”

“ Let's not get paranoid, huh, Jess?”

“ It's paranoia that's got me as far as I am.”

“ Not this time, Jess. You must've heard about Senator Keillor's death?”

“ Heart attack, right?”

“ They're not so sure anymore. Seems he had some track marks.”

“ Drugs? Christ, wasn't he on the President's Drug-free USA Committee?”

“ He was.”

“ And so Glenn Hale was yanked to study his tracks instead of my teeth marks?”

“ That's right.”

“ Well, Hale's not the only guy at Quantico who knows flesh marks. Get Kinnon or-”

“ Kinnon's in Africa.”

“- or Springer. Springer's had some experience in-”

“ Jess, I'm doing it myself-”

“ You?”

“ And I'll get your results to you this afternoon.”

“ All right, J.T.”

“ Got the specimens in the SEM right now.”

“ No second chances here.” She knew that the SEM destroyed the evidence as it photographed, bombarding the tissue with a shower of electrons. If the photos were marred, there'd be no evidence and no way to tell if the teeth marks sent J.T. were identical or not.

“ Not to worry, Jess. Now, how're you doing in New York?”

“ Not so good. Two more victims last night.”

“ Jesus… two…”

“ Yeah, our boy-or boys-is or are getting bolder.”

“ This guy's shaping up to be another Matisak.”

She was silent a moment, thinking of Matisak's involvement in her case, wondering again how he had arrived at the same theory as she. Maybe it took a madman to understand a madman, and if that was the case, did it mean that she, too, was mad?

She hoped the syllogism held no water.

“ You still there, Jess?”

“ Yeah, J.T., and thanks. I'll be hearing from you soon, then?”

The moment she hung up the phone, she decided that as much as she loved J.T., she'd better start doing what she could on her own. She returned to the two corpses brought in from Scarsdale. Dr. Darius was overseeing the autopsy of the younger woman, with Jessica assisting.

The autopsy took less than the usual four to five hours because the body had already been eviscerated, usually the job of the coroner. The autopsy was, however, complicated by the fact that a number of the organs did not belong to the subject. It made for a most uneven examination of the victim.

Where appropriate, they had returned the correct organs to the second body, the process making Jessica feel like a reanimator, a Dr. Frankenstein attempting to force order onto death and chaos.

Dr. Darius, by comparison, seemed composed, at ease, in his element. All of her professional life Jessica had been looked upon by those outside of medicine-reporters, lawyers, even rugged cops-as something of a ghoul for being capable of doing her work amid the most horrific of conditions. But she now had to bow to Darius as far more detached and capable than she.

But suddenly her estimation was qualified. The body jerked in a spasm and Darius jumped in response, laughing nervously. “I… I'll never get used to that,” he said before continuing on with his report. He was fastidious and sharp, she thought, as she watched him work.

“ It appears the slash marks came from a right-handed man, from across this way.” He pointed to the body's right shoulder and drew an imaginary, jagged diagonal line toward her navel. “The killer did this three times. It seems his favorite number, as it corresponds with all earlier victims. As can be seen by the vital reaction around the rents, the bruised blue, the victim was very much alive when she was ripped open.”

The overhead microphone taped the words automatically. It also taped Dr. Darius' cough and the sound of him clearing his throat. The typescript would eliminate all nonessential information, and copies of the autopsy reports on both victims would be on Alan Rychman's desk before 3 P.M., if the second autopsy went as smoothly as this one was going.

She noticed that Dr. Darius worked with a coverlet over the head of the victims. This was not unusual, especially for a man of his generation. For many years it had been standard practice, something about gentility and concern for the dead, respect.

It also cut down on the unnerving problem of having closed pupils popping open, giving the autopsiest the chilling impression that the deceased was watching him or her while at work. In this case, with the eyes removed, it was even more disturbing.

Now that she was older, Jessica didn't think it was such a bad idea. The older she got, the more superstitious, too, she conceded, feeling the thick crystal gem that'd been given to her by a dear friend who promised that it would bring her, if not luck, comfort, and when she did hold it in her palm, feeling the heat from her hand rise and ebb like a tide, it gave her pause, and calmed her nerves.

Still, regardless of Dr. Darius' obvious aversion for the corpse's eyeless face, the head was part of a complete autopsy, and he would not only have to unveil the head, but stare into the cavities with a brilliant light.

But he didn't do this. He asked Jessica if she would see to the stitches, now that most of the woman's organs had been returned to her, and he began to walk away.

“ Doctor…”

“ Yes, my dear?”

“ What about the throat, the head, the eyes?”

“ Hammer blow to the forehead, occipital lobe. It's on the tape, Dr. Coran.”

“ But in a complete autopsy-”

“ No need to disfigure this poor soul any more than she already has been. I am… we are… done here. Close her up and let's get started on the other one.” Darius went out.

She uncovered the face, finding the woman's eye cavities disconcerting. Jessica ran her eyes along the throat and found multiple bite wounds there, all mentioned in the autopsy, but she wanted to take the bite marks for more intensive study, and that meant cutting the sections out of the dead woman's throat with a scalpel.

Maybe New York is unfortunate to have Dr. Darius back in on the case, she thought. Maybe he's too old for this kind of thing. Maybe… maybe…

“ What're you doing there?” It was Darius and his face was near white, his cold stare holding her. “We must get on,” he said, softening his tone.

“ I want to take these bite marks, study them in more detail.”

“ You've got bite marks. More, in fact, than we can deal with. Didn't you say you sent some off to Washington?”

“ Yes, but we have to be sure these match the others, that it's the work of the same man, or men.”

“ I suppose you're right. I just thought we could spare the woman any further… indignity…”

“ I understand and appreciate your concern-”

He was nodding as he interrupted her, “But she won't feel a thing, I know… I know.”

Darius had a cup of juice in his hands, bloodlike in color- cranberry, she guessed from the aroma. He popped a capsule and took a swallow.

She stared a moment too long.

“ Nitro,” he said, “for the ticker.”

Nitroglycerin, she thought, averting her eyes. That meant his attack had been far more serious than he had let on.

“ My body has, as they say, turned against me.”

Jessica took samples from the dead woman's throat as she had from the thighs, the buttocks and arms earlier. Bite marks in the entrails appeared rather useless as impressions, so she stuck with the others.

“ If we have two killers, the teeth marks ought to show it,” she said.

“ Not necessarily,” he countered. “Not if only one of them does the biting. I think we have to concentrate on hair, fiber and particle samples, Jessica.”

“ And what about the weapon? What kind of a… an instrument could possibly cause the rents opening the body?”

“ The answer to that eventually leads to the killer.”

Jessica finished taking her samples, dropping each into a fixative formula in various small jars beside the autopsy table. Dr. Darius buzzed for a pair of attendants to replace the Olin cadaver with the elderly Mrs. Phillips now.

The Phillips autopsy was as painstaking as the previous one, for once again the missing organs, as noted at the crime scene, caused untold problems. Some of the organs removed from Miss Olin had been those of a much older person, and now some of Mrs. Phillips' parts were proving to be too young for her; even so, not all of Miss Olin's parts could be accounted for. Despite the monster's ugly idea of hide-and-seek, he'd obviously been tempted and had either eaten or carried off some of his carrion with him.

With his every word being recorded, Dr. Darius said, “Whoever our maniac is, he bloody well knows his anatomy. He's extracted every major organ. No small task in and of… What the hell?” He paused, his gloved fingers probing Mrs. Phillips' chest cavity. “There's something odd here.”

Jessica was instantly curious. “What is it, Doctor?”

Something foreign materialized in Darius' hand and even the magician was startled at his trick. It appeared to be a small patch of cloth or square of cardboard covered in dark blood. “My God, what've we here?” he asked.

She reached out for it with a pair of forceps, gingerly taking it between the prongs. “We've got to rush this to your photo-document section, Doctor.”

“ My thinking, precisely. I'll alert Lathrope of your coming.”

“ It could prove very valuable.”

Darius' eyes spoke of his disbelief. Finally he said, “You don't suppose…”

“ What?”

“ That there might've been something like this in other victims? Say, the Olin woman? The Hamner woman?”

“ Recall them,” she replied. “Thoroughly search any of the victims you haven't released for burial.”

He nodded, obviously shaken. She asked, “Are you all right, Doctor?”

He nodded again, sweat beading his brow. “I've got a grip on it. Go now; go quickly.” But she hesitated. He looked pale. “Get some rest before you do anything else, Doctor, and wait for Archer, okay?”

“ Perhaps you're right. Go now! I'm fine, really, I am.”

As he began dialing the head of his photo-document section, Jessica grabbed her cane from where it was propped against a lab table and started through the door. She bumped into Dr. Archer, who stared at the odd item between the bloody forceps she was holding before her. A dark fluid dripped from the matted paper camouflaged by the soupy blood and bile it had been fished from.

“ What the hell's this?” asked Archer, curious.

“ No time to explain, Doctor.” She rushed past him for the stairwell and the floor below.

Archer looked across the room at Darius, who beamed at him, saying, “I think we may have finally gotten a break in the case of the Claw, Simon. And now I will need your help. We have to reopen the Olin and the Hamner cadavers.”

“ What for? What's going on?” asked the confused Archer.

“ Hurry, come with me, and I'll explain everything,” said Darius, who went for the freezer compartments. He had composed himself and was anxious now to get on with the work at hand.?