The Night Stalker

Four

Hunter, Garcia and Doctor Hove climbed up the steps together and entered the main building via its large double doors. Several more police officers and firemen were lingering around in the entry foyer. Doctor Hove guided both detectives past the reception counter, down another set of stairs and onto the underground floor. Even though they could all hear the extraction fans working at full power, a sickening smell of chemicals and burned flesh hung in the air. Both detectives cringed and reflexively cupped their hands over their noses.

Garcia felt his stomach churn.

Right at the end of the corridor, a section of the floor directly in front of autopsy room four was drenched in water. Its door was open but it seemed to have been dislodged off its hinges.

The fire chief in charge was giving instructions to one of his men when he saw the group approaching.

‘Chief,’ Doctor Hove said, ‘these are Detectives Robert Hunter and Carlos Garcia of the RHD.’

No handshakes, only polite nods.

‘What happened here?’ Hunter asked, craning his neck to try to see inside the room. ‘And where’s Doctor Winston?’

Doctor Hove didn’t reply.

The chief took off his helmet and wiped his forehead with a gloved hand. ‘Some sort of explosion.’

Hunter frowned. ‘Explosion?’

‘That’s right. The room has been checked and there are no hidden fires. In fact, the fire itself looked to have been minimal. The sprinklers put it out even before we got here. At the moment we don’t know what caused the blast, we’ll have to wait for the fire investigator’s report.’ He looked at Doctor Hove. ‘I was told that this is the largest of all the autopsy suites, and it doubles as a lab, is that right?’

‘Yes, that’s correct,’ she confirmed.

‘Are any volatile chemicals — maybe gas canisters — stored in there?’

Doctor Hove closed her eyes for a moment and let out a heavy breath. ‘Sometimes.’

The chief nodded. ‘Maybe there was a leak, but as I said, we’ll have to wait for the investigator’s report. It’s a sturdy building with solid foundations. As it’s a basement room, the walls down here are much thicker than the ones throughout the rest of the building, and that helped contain the blow. Though it was a powerful enough blast to cause a lot of internal damage, it wasn’t powerful enough to compromise the structure. For now, there isn’t much more I can tell you.’ The chief took off his gloves and rubbed his eyes. ‘It’s very messy in there, Doctor, in a very bad way.’ He paused as if unsure of what else to say. ‘I’m really sorry.’ His words were coated with grief. He nodded solemnly at the rest of the group and made his way back upstairs.

They all stood in silence at the entrance to what used to be autopsy room four, their eyes taking in the destruction. At the far end of the room tables, trays, cabinets and trolleys were bent out of shape and turned over everywhere, showered in debris and bits of skin and flesh. Part of the ceiling and the back wall were damaged and covered in blood.

‘When did this happen?’ Garcia asked.

‘An hour, maybe an hour and fifteen minutes ago. I was in a meeting in the second building. There was a muffled bang and the fire alarms went berserk.’

What was bothering Hunter was the amount of washed-up blood and the number of black impermeable covers he could see scattered around the room, covering bodies or body parts. The cooler body storage facility was located on the wall opposite where the blast occurred. None of the fridges looked damaged.

‘How many bodies were out of the coolers in here, Doc?’ Hunter asked tentatively.

Doctor Hove knew Hunter had already caught on. She lifted her right hand, showing only the index finger.

Hunter let out a laden breath. ‘An autopsy was taking place.’ It was a statement rather than a question and he felt a shiver grab hold of his spine. ‘Doctor Winston’s autopsy?’

‘Shit!’ Garcia ran a hand over his face. ‘No way.’

Doctor Hove looked away, but not fast enough to hide the tears that were forming in her eyes.

Hunter’s gaze stayed on her for a couple of seconds before returning to what was left of the room. His throat went dry, and a choking sadness surrounded his heart. He’d known Doctor Jonathan Winston for over fifteen years. He’d been the Los Angeles Chief Medical Examiner for as long as Hunter could remember. He was a workaholic and brilliant at his job. He always tried his best to conduct most of the autopsies on murder victims whose death circumstances had been deemed out of the ordinary. But most of all, to Hunter, Doctor Winston was like family. The best of friends. Someone on whom he’d counted on numerous times. Someone who he respected and admired like few others. Someone he’d sincerely miss.

‘Two people were present.’ Doctor Hove’s voice faltered for an instant. ‘Doctor Winston and Sean Hannay, a 21-year-old forensic assistant.’

Hunter closed his eyes. There was nothing he could say.

‘I called as soon as I found out,’ Doctor Hove said.

Garcia’s expression was one of pure shock. He’d seen many dead bodies in his career, several of them grotesquely disfigured by a sadistic killer. But he’d never personally known any of the victims. And despite meeting Doctor Winston for the first time only three years ago, they’d quickly become friends.

‘How about the kid?’ Hunter finally asked. And for the first time, Garcia heard Hunter’s voice quiver.

Doctor Hove shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. Sean Hannay was finishing his third year of pathology at UCLA. His ambition was to become a forensic scientist. I was the one who approved his internship only six months ago.’ Her eyes glistened. ‘He wasn’t even supposed to be in this room. He was just helping out.’ The doctor paused and considered her next words carefully. ‘I asked him to do so. It was supposed to be me assisting Jonathan.’

Hunter noticed that the doctor’s hands were shaking.

‘It was a special circumstances death,’ she continued. ‘Jonathan always asks me to assist on those. And I would’ve, but I got held up in my meeting and asked Sean to take over for me as a favor.’ Her eyes filled with horror. ‘He wasn’t the one who was supposed to have died here today — I was.’