Page 31 of The Drowned Woman
He gave a small shake of his head and grabbed his raincoat, fisting the material in his clenched hand. “This day—” His gaze returned to the rain-darkened window. “I’m fine. Just a bad day is all.”
Seventeen
It was a little past two by the time Luka made it to the medical examiner’s offices in Good Sam’s basement. He’d stopped by the ICU on his way. Their little old lady, the victim of a vicious mugging, was still unconscious. But the good news was that her daughter had finally arrived from New Mexico. It was painful to confess to her that they had no firm leads yet, but Luka was glad that at least she wasn’t alone.
As he signed in at the morgue’s security desk, he braced himself for Ford Tierney’s lecture. It would begin with a dissertation on punctuality, segue into how lucky Cambria City PD and Craven County were to have a medical examiner, much less an assistant ME who was also board-certified in forensic pathology, and conclude with a final tirade on the idiocy of the two centuries-old system that left the vast majority of the state with undertakers or politicians elected to the position of coroner.
Didn’t matter how often he’d heard it before, Tierney would repeat his speech, exactly the same every time, and wouldn’t allow Luka a word in edgewise until he’d finished. Luka had learned to simply swallow his medicine with grace and goodwill. But today when he arrived at the autopsy suite’s observation room, there was a body wrapped in a sterile shroud on the stainless-steel table, but no sign of Tierney.
Luka glanced at the clock in surprise. Was the hyper-punctual medical examiner actually late? He smiled and began composing his own lecture on timeliness when Maggie Chen entered the suite and waved at him to join her. She tapped the intercom. “Ford got called away. But I’ve got something to show you.”
Luka made his way into the autopsy room and cloaked himself in a surgical gown and booties, then pulled on a face mask and gloves.
“Found a few things on my preliminary examination,” Maggie told him. “I’m thinking maybe you don’t need to wait for Ford to finish.”
That sounded promising, Luka thought as Maggie gently removed the shroud on the body. Trudy Orly had been positioned face down on the table, her forehead cradled on a curved stand. Her clothing had been removed and her hair cleaned of the blood and bone fragments left by her head injury. Maggie didn’t have to say anything—there was obvious bruising along the woman’s shoulder blades and the outer parts of both arms.
Bruising in the shape of a man’s hands as he shoved Trudy into a wall? “How old are these?” Luka asked, thinking of what Chaudhari had said about Walt shaking Trudy.
“Old. Maybe a week or so. But that’s not what I wanted to show you.”
“No bruises from today?” Luka didn’t bother to hide his disappointment.
“Nothing obvious. And I think I know why—also why no one heard her scream or shout as she fell.” Maggie turned the overhead lights off, grabbed a handheld alternative light source wand and handed Luka a pair of special filtered goggles. Then, with a flourish, she raised Trudy’s hair to reveal two small oval discolorations at the base of her scalp, on the opposite side from where her skull had been dented by its impact with the lobby floor.
“Are those what I think they are?”
“Stun gun. Not police issue—the prongs are too narrowly placed. I’ll try to get a manufacturer, but it might take a while.” She clicked the lights back on. “They’re fresh. Within minutes before death—Ford can confirm that she was still alive when she was stunned once he takes tissue samples.”
He handed her back the tinted goggles. “Maggie, you’re amazing. Anyone else would have missed those.” Luka ran his fingers along the back of his own neck. “Someone must have been very close to her. Very close.”
“Maybe someone she knew?” Maggie suggested. “My guess is, given the way they’re slightly off center, the killer stood right beside Trudy as they both faced the atrium. If she’d been afraid of this person, I can’t see her standing so close to them. Maybe they dropped something as a distraction, to get her to look down.”
“Then they stunned her.” Luka brought two fingers to the back of Maggie’s neck. “And as her body went limp—”
“He or she simply rolled her forward over the railing, let gravity do the work.”
“Which means there would be no bruising other than from impact.”
“And with the railing acting as a fulcrum, it wouldn’t take someone very strong at all. Man or woman. They’re easy to buy for personal defense. It could even have belonged to Trudy.”
Luka made a note of that. If the stun gun was Trudy’s maybe they could track the purchase. Then he had another thought. “If strength and muscle coordination weren’t important, then even a man with Huntington’s could do it.”
“You’re thinking the husband?”
“He had motive—she wanted him out of the home, was looking into long-term care facilities.”
“Anyone could have done this,” she replied. “If Trudy let them get close enough.”
Which meant his list of suspects had narrowed considerably, limited to people with access to the Falconer and who Trudy would allow to enter her personal space. Putting Walt firmly at the top of his list. “Thanks, Maggie,” Luka told her as he shed his protective gear and headed through the doors. “I owe you one.”
“I’m keeping a tab,” she shouted back before the doors slid shut behind him.
Luka called Krichek as he walked back to his car and told him about Maggie’s findings.
“Gives us enough for a search warrant—including all of the Orlys’ electronics,” Krichek replied before Luka could give the order. “But if Walt is faking his symptoms, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave the stun gun in his apartment.”
“See if the judge will also cover the common areas inside the Falconer and get the uniforms on it. Make sure they don’t forget things like flowerpots, the elevator shaft.” He remembered what Leah had said about Cliff Vogel. The man would open up more to a woman than a man. “What’s Harper doing? She can join them, get that manager to show her every nook and cranny.”
