caused by strangulation and the resulting pressure on the brain.
Frank leaned forward in his chair, looked at the degrees lining the wall
proclaiming the man opposite from him to be a long-dedicated student of
forensic pathology.
“Man or woman?”
The Medical Examiner shrugged at the inquiry.
“Hard to tell. Human skin isn’t a stellar surface for prints, as you
know. In fact it’s pretty impossible except in a few discrete areas, and
after about half a day, if there, was anything there, it won’t be
anymore. Hard to imagine, though, a woman trying to strangle another
woman with her bare hands, but it’s happened. Doesn’t take much pressure
to crush a trachea, but bare-handed strangling’s usually a macho method
of inflicting death. in a hundred strangling cases, I’ve never seen one
where it was proved that a woman committed it. This was from the front
too,” he added. “Mano a mano. You’d have to be pretty damn confident of
your strength advantage. My educated guess? It was a man, for what a
guess is worth.”
“The report also says there were contusions and bruises on the left side
of her jaw, loosened teeth and cuts on the inside of her mouth?”
“Looks like somebody belted her a good one. One of the molars almost
penetrated her cheek.”
Frank glanced at his case file. “The second bullet?”
“The damage inflicted leads me to believe it’s a large caliber, just
like the first.”
“Any guesses on the first?”
“That’s all it would be. Maybe .357, .41. Could’ve been a 9mm too.
Jesus, you saw the slug. Damn thing was flat as a pancake with half of
it dispersed through her brain tissue and fluid. No lands, grooves,
twists. Even if you find a probable firearm you’re not going to get a
match there.”
“If we can find the other one, we might be in business.
“Maybe not. Whoever dug it out of that wall probably messed up the
markings. Ballistics won’t be happy with that.”
“Yeah, but it might just have some of the deceased’s hair, blood and
skin imbedded in the nose. That’s some trace I’d love to get my hands
on.”
The ME rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That’s true. But you’ve got to
find it first.”
“Which we probably won’t.” Frank smiled.
“You never know.”
The two men looked at each other, knowing full well that t@ere was no
way in hell they were going to find the other slug. Even if they did,
they couldn’t place it at the murder scene unless it had trace evidence
of the deceased on it, or they could find the gun that had fired it and
placed the weapon at the murder scene. A potential double whammy.
“Find any brass?”
Frank shook his head.
“Then you got no pinprick either, Seth.” The Medical Examiner was
referring to the unique imprint left by the firing pin of a gun on the
base of the shell casing.
“Never said it would be easy. By the way, state guys giving you room to
breathe on this one?”
The Medical Examiner smiled. “Remarkably silent. Now if it had been
Walter Sullivan getting whacked, who knows? I already filed my report
in Richmond.”
Then Frank said the question he had really come to ask.
“Why two shots?”
The Medical Examiner stopped picking his cuticle, put down his scalpel
and looked at Frank.
“Why not?” His eyes crinkled. He was in the unenviable position of being
more than competent for the opportunities presented him in the quiet
county. One of approximately five hundred Deputy Medical Examiners in
the commonwealth, he enjoyed a thriving general practice but had a
personal fascination with both police investigations and forensic
pathology. Before settling into a quiet life in Virginia he had served
as a deputy coroner for Los Angeles County for almost twenty years. It
didn’t get much worse than L.A. for homicides. But this was one he could
get his teeth into.
id, “Either shot would Frank looked at him intently and sa have
obviously been fatal. No question. So why fire a second? You wouldn’t
for a lot of reasons. Number one being the noise. Number two, if you
want to get the hell out of there, why take the time to pump another