Page 124 of Sinister Legacy
Riveiro, dressed in dark jeans and a black cashmere cardigan, nudges her chin at the door. “We got a call from dispatch. They found another body.”
I’m up on my feet in the next second, reaching for my winter coat on the back of my chair. I sling it on, follow her into the hallway, and shut the door.
Her raven ponytail sways as she walks speedily toward the main entrance of the building. I can barely keep up.
“What did they find?”
“Man in his early fifties, hacked into pieces. He’s been dead for some time.”
“Keira’s stepfather?”
“I’ll bet my salary on it.”
We step outside into the cold evening air. It’s been dark for a while. I promised my wife I would be home early, but that won’t happen now.
“Where was he found?”
Riveiro unlocks her car with the key fob. “Placed in neat little piles on a bench in the local park. It was in a remote area, so God only knows how long the remains have been there.”
We get in the car, and Riveiro steps on the gas. The roads are quiet at this time. We get there in no time.
It has started snowing again now, and the forensics are running around in a flurry of movement to erect a tent over the remains before the weather ruins whatever little evidence we may find.
I pinch my nose when the rancid smell hits me.
“You weren’t joking. He’s been dead a fucking long time.”
Riveiro pinches her nose too as she crouches in front of the bench. Death doesn’t faze her at all. She points to the head. What’s left of it, anyway. Most of the flesh has rotted away. “Look at these marks here. The body parts were wrapped in plastic bags for a prolonged period of time.”
“The humid conditions are probably why there’s so little left.”
Riveiro slides her gaze to the left. To the torso. The limbs are all missing, and the chest cavity is pried open. She looks at me over her shoulder with a pointed look. “Does Jasper come to mind? His heart was removed, too.”
“The mask,” I say, gesturing to where it lies propped up in front of what used to be the arms and legs. “Think it has prints on it?”
Since my colleague always comes prepared, she removes a set of gloves and a zippy bag from her pocket. After sliding on her gloves, she picks up the mask, careful not to disturb any potential evidence, and slips it into the bag.
“Only one way to find out. Look at the chest,” Riveiro says, rising to her feet. “This is different from the Jasper case. This is almost like the killer was… curious.”
I stare at Riveiro, who stands with her head cocked, studying the grisly sight in front of her.
“What makes you say that?”
Her shoulders rise and fall. “It’s sloppy. Look at the cuts. It makes me think of a five-year-old serial killer in the making who starts out experimenting with cats and birds.”
“Remind me never to attend a kid’s birthday party with you,” I mutter, wincing at the reek in the air.
Riveiro ignores my barb, a crease deepening between her brows as she looks closer. “Why the heart specifically? Why not the lungs or the liver?”
“I don’t spend my days delving into the ins and outs of why killers prefer hearts over spleens or whatever.”
“It matters,” Riveiro says, sliding her rubber gloves off and stuffing them back inside her pocket, “because the heart is personal. It’s an emotional connection to the victim.”
“And the liver is not?”
She gives me a bored look and rounds the park bench. “It should be Keira’s stepdad, but we’ll need to identify him through dental records regardless since the remains are this decomposed.”
“Let’s get the mask back to the lab. Run it for fingerprints and DNA.”
