Page 28 of One
“Sure. Please, do your magic.” His blue eyes take in my face, and, after a couple of seconds, he nods and pulls a small voice recorder out of his coat pocket.
“The victim is male,” Michael says into the recorder. He opens the yellow files and reads. “Jeffrey Carl Thomas. Thirty-two years old. Light brown hair, blue eyes.” Michael slides the corpse’s eyelid up to double check the color of the iris. “The blood-red eye, petechiae, and puffy lower lip suggest death by strangulation. And the burn left on the skin seems to match the one on the other victims.” He leans over the neck to get a better view, moving a magnifying glass over it.
“He used a wire rope,” I say, staring at the jagged bruise.
He slightly frowns at me. “Probably. The traces of steel found on the other four previous victims were the same, as the imprint on the skin. Which means the killer likes to use the same weapon.” Michael lifts the victim’s hands, one after the other. A couple of nails are caked with blood. “Signs of a fight on his fingers suggest the victim was conscious when strangled. He scratched his own neck in an attempt to loosen the rope and cracked his nails in the process.”
“So the killer was behind him pulling on the rope.”
“Yes,” Michael says. “I’ll gather some of the blood from under his fingernails. But if it’s like the others, there will only be traces of the victim’s DNA.”
“Did you check his hair?” I ask, staring at the corpse’s thick blonde waves.
“Why? Do you see something?” Michael moves closer to me, shifting the lamp until it illuminates the strands.
“If the killer was behind him, he had to pull the victim’s body against his. And since the victim’s hair is… luxurious, maybe some got inside the killer’s mouth? Saliva residuals could be found among the strands.”
Michael turns his gaze to mine, a mesmerized look on his beautiful face.
“That’s a very good point.” A male voice breaks the moment, and I turn toward the door to see a tall guy wearing a black hoodie over a checkered shirt, and a shorter one with jeans, a blue suit jacket, and tie. They both have police badges hanging around their necks. So, these must be the two detectives working on the Rope Killer case.
The shorter, brown-haired one introduces himself as Detective Diaz. While the tall blonde one is Polsner. His brown eyes are quick and calculating while focusing on Michael, and the smile on his face looks too bright to be genuine.
“You must be Raphael Bear-Stone?” Diaz’s question sounds more like a statement, so I just stare at him. “The commissioner gave you permission to observe, not assist.” He points at my gloved hands.
My family’s powerful connections are why I’m allowed to be here today. And the two detectives don’t look happy about it. Tough shit. Most police officers are a bunch of arrogant attack dogs with a gun and a hero complex. Looks like these two are part of the majority.
“I asked him to help. He has a medical background and I need some extra assistance today, since I’m injured.” Michael waves at his bandaged foot. “The dean of the hospital, Dr. Danford, gave us permission. I can call him right now, if you need to hear it directly from him?” he finishes, looking from one detective to the other.
I know Michael is bluffing big time. But the fact that he’s trying to protect me feels… good. So I grin, putting a feral touch on it when I aim it at the detectives.
After a few seconds Detective Diaz replies, “There’s no need for that.”
I see Micheal’s shoulders relax. “Good. So why are you here?”
“We came to check if you found something?” Polsner explains.
Diaz pulls his ringing phone from his jacket. “Need to take this,” he says before walking out of the room.
“I just started. I need at least a couple of hours,” Michael tells Polsner.
“But do you think it’s another victim of the… Rope Killer?” The detective grinds his teeth around the name.
“At first glance, it looks like the same murder weapon. A wire rope.”
“Still don’t know what kind?”
“If the metallic residue around this victim's neck is the same as the others, I’m afraid so. The lab tech said they are too common.”
Polsner nods. “What else can you tell me?”
“Nothing you don’t already know. The victim’s eye and hair color checks out with the killer's preferences, but not the age. This guy was much older than the others. But he did suffer from hemophilia.”
That’s new information.
Michael turns to me, clarifying, “The killer aims at people with a rare genetic disorder which stops blood from clotting.”
Although I already know what hemophilia is—and now understand why there’s so much caked blood around his nose—I like how he keeps me in the conversation. In opposition to the detective, who starts talking about more details without giving Michael the opportunity to keep me in the loop.
