“She is all yours. Have fun,” Logan replied.
“Up yours,” Myler shot back.
Logan stepped away from the body as Myler poked and prodded a little more before calling for his assistants. Just as Logan was headed for his car, Carrie Brown, reporter for the Star newspaper, appeared out of the snow.
“Aw crap,” Logan muttered.
“Nice to see you too,” she replied.
“Nothing personal. I just don’t have a darn thing to tell you yet,” he said.
“Really? Not even if it was a man or woman?”
“Okay, it was a woman.”
“Young?”
“Yeah.”
“White, black, Hispanic?”
“Okay. You’re gonna play twenty questions until you bleed me dry. Yes, it is a young female Caucasian. I guess she is about five feet six. Myler said she was probably twenty-something.”
“Cause of death?”
“I can’t say because we don’t know yet.”
“She wasn’t stabbed, shot or strangled?”
“Watch my lips. We don’t know what caused her death yet.”
“All her parts there?”
“Damn Carrie. As far as I could see, she was all there,” Logan replied.
“Hey, I have to ask.”
“Yeah, the public is just crying out to get the gory details.”
“Actually, as sick as it may seem, they are,” she replied.
“That doesn’t say much for the general public.”
“No, it doesn’t but those are the facts,” she said.
“Honestly, we don’t know a whole lot yet.”
“Was she raped?”
“We don’t know. Myler is just getting ready to take her body to the morgue. We will know more then.”
“Was she dressed?”
“Nope. Naked as the day she came into this world.”
“Well at least that gives me something to go on. I know you will call me just as soon as you get more,” she said, smiling.
Carrie Brown had known Logan for almost ten years, since she started as a young cub reporter. Through the years they had become close friends and often confided in each other. Carrie had even had romantic thoughts about the two of them but Logan would not let it progress that far.
He considered himself too old for her and he wasn’t going to end up being called a lecherous old codger chasing after younger women. Carrie had made it known that she did not consider him too old for her but he still refused to let the relationship advance beyond friendship. Logan knew he could trust her with any information he gave her. She was not only a good reporter but she was always cognizant that she needed to make sure Logan knew what was about to hit the papers. In exchange for that, she often got tips and scoops that left the other reporters scrambling. It was a good relationship.
“Want to go get a Diet Coke?” she asked.
“Nah. I think I’ll just go back to the station. I got a lot of paperwork to catch up on,” he said.
“Okay, that’s cool,” she said and turned abruptly and walked back into the swirling snow.
He felt bad. He could have handled that a hell of a lot better. He just wasn’t in the mood to chit-chat. All he wanted to do was sit and brood. His gut was telling him that something bad was coming their way. Something very bad.
Logan felt even worse when he got to the station. Almost everyone was gone. The snow storm had vacated most of the available bodies. Stoplights had quit working in several parts of the city and wrecks were occurring at an alarming rate. He went to the pop-machine, got a Diet Coke, and sat down heavily at his desk. It was winter. Crime was supposed to slow down. The crazies weren’t supposed to come out of the woodwork until spring. The Chief came out of his office with his coat over is arm.
“Logan. I thought you were out in the field,” he said, locking his door.
“Just got back. Found a young girl murdered. No ID yet. Myler has the body,” he said, filling him in on the obvious questions.
“Papers know?”
“Yep. They know the basics. They do not know that her head had been opened up like a sardine can and her brain removed,” Logan said.
“What? Someone stole her brain?”
“Just an empty cavity left. Looks like she had been beaten pretty badly but that is just speculation. Myler will have to confirm that.”
“So she was dumped there?”
“Yeah. We won’t get any clues due to the snow. She was totally covered. All traces will be long gone,” Logan said.
“So you are saying in a roundabout way that you didn’t call in the crime team.”
“That is correct.”
“Good thing you gave me a heads up. I’m sure I will get a call first thing when this hits the streets,” the Chief replied.
“Look, nothing was there. Hell, it’s still snowing. They wouldn’t have found a damn thing.”
“Easy. I understand but you know as well as I do, they will still gripe. It’s what they like to do,” the Chief replied.
“Ain't it the truth?”
“Goodnight Logan,” he said, slipping his coat on and getting his gloves out of the pocket.
“Night Chief,” Logan said and turned on his computer.
He would get the new file and case number started at least.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Myler stomped the snow off his boots and rubbed his hands together briskly. It had taken them twenty minutes to get the body to the meat wagon and another hour to get back to the morgue. The city trucks were losing the battle to the insistent snow that continued to pile up despite their best efforts. He poured himself a cup of black coffee and let his hands warm on the cup.
His two assistants wrestled the body of the young girl onto one of the stainless steel autopsy tables. He watched as they groaned and grunted, struggling with the stiff corpse.
Finally they got her situated and Myler said, “Thanks boys. I’ve got it from here unless you want to stick around. She will have to thaw out for a few hours before I do the slice and dice.”
“I have a date. You mind if I go?” the young redhead asked.
“Go,” Myler said.
He would have never passed up the chance to be involved in an autopsy when he was just getting started but today’s kids were considerably less enthusiastic about work.
“I probably should get going too. The weather is really shitty,” the other boy said.
“Isn’t going to get any better,” Myler agreed.
Screw them. If they didn’t want to learn, the hell with them. He waited until they had gone and then dressed in his gown, boots, and gloves. He was just about to go into the autopsy room when the phone rang.
“City Morgue,” he said.
“Sounds like I got one of the corpses,” the voice on the other end said.
“Come on down here and I’ll make you a corpse,” Myler replied.
“You done any cutting yet?”
“Hell no. I just got back a few minutes ago. It’s not too nice outside in case you didn’t notice with all those tears in your eyes.”
“You really have sniffed too much formaldehyde. It’s destroyed your brain.”
“Yeah, well, one of us has work to do. What do you want?”
“I thought I might come down and show you how it is supposed to be done. I mean the correct way.”
“That’s all I need. A crying cop looking over my shoulder. If you are coming, get your sorry butt on over here. She will be rotten if you take your usual sweet time.”
“Be there as quick as I can,” Logan replied and headed for his car.
Myler was sitting in his office, drinking his third cup of coffee. He pulled a Diet Coke out of the refrigerator behind his desk and handed it to Logan without a word. Logan took it and popped the top.
“So, are you ready to learn?” Logan asked.
“Learn not to have you around is about all I have learned ever since I met your sorry ass. Come on, get suited up. I would li
ke to do this before the worms start to crawl in and out,” Myler said.
Logan put on the same kind of gown and gloves as Myler before joining him in the autopsy room.
“Very pretty looking girl if you overlook the marks on her body,” Logan said.
“Yeah, considering that she has been totally shaved. Not a hair on her entire body. Oh, and the top of her head has been cut open.”
“Well Yeah, I meant other than that,” Logan replied. Myler looked at him like he had lost his mind.
“I took a look at her while you were on the way over. She has been whipped with several different objects. Look at this one. It looks like a piece of rope made these marks. These,” he said, pointing to a different set of marks, “are from a whip, leather probably. They cover her body, front and back. These heavy ones were made by something much harder, maybe a cane. Look at her wrists. They are rubbed raw. She appears to have been hanging by her wrists. She was tortured,” Myler said.
“Good grief. Who could do such a thing? Is this what killed her?” Logan asked.
“I doubt it. They may have hurt like hell and she may have wished she was dead, but they didn’t kill her. Let’s get started,” he said.
He picked up a scalpel and cleared his throat before turning on the microphone hanging down from the ceiling.
“Autopsy of Jane Doe, Case number is 1-3-2557. Time 21:15. The subject is a female, age approximately twenty years old. Height sixty-six and a half inches, weight one hundred and four pounds. She is denuded of all hair on her entire body but it was blond. It was definitely her natural color. Eyes blue. No contact lenses. No foreign material was found under the victims fingernails. Abrasions are noted around both wrists and bruising has occurred. The cranium has been opened at the hairline. It appears to have been done surgically with precision. The cerebral cortex has been removed. Several markings, round in shape, approximately two centimeters in diameter are noted on the top of the cranium. No trauma or punctures are apparent. The subject seems to be covered with contusions inflicted pre-mortem. They cover approximately eighty percent of her body. The skin is broken in several places but none of these injuries are lethal. Many appear to have been inflicted by a leather object, possibly a whip. Deeper contusions appear to be from a heavier object that measures point seven centimeters across and rounded, possibly a cane or heavy stick,” Myler said, stopping to wipe his glasses.
He started again, “The subjects brain has been severed at the stem and no cerebrospinal fluid remains.”
“Why would someone do that?” Logan asked.
“That would be your department, I should think. I just record the facts,” Myler said.
“Touché,” Logan replied.
“Make yourself useful. Help me roll her over,” Myler said.
It wasn’t as hard as Logan had expected. The large incision ran from her shoulder to the top of her butt. Logan was sure there was a more technical term. Sure enough, Myler supplied the correct medical jargon.
“I am removing the stitches, starting six centimeters above the left gluteus maximus.”
He cut the stitch and pulled it through the skin. He stuck his finger inside and felt around.
“I don’t know what it is but it is certainly not her internal organs,” Myler replied, “Cutting number two and three stitches,” he said into the microphone.
He pulled the skin apart and looked inside.
“What the hell is that?” Logan said, peering over Myler’s shoulder.
“I can’t tell. I am going to open her up and get to the bottom of this,” Myler replied, cutting the remaining stitches. He pulled the skin apart and looked in with disbelief.
“What the hell is that stuff?”
“Just what it looks like,” Myler said, removing a piece from the girl’s body cavity.
* * *
Logan sat in a chair across from the Chief.
“What happened to her internal organs?” he asked.
“Don’t know. Myler said that they hadn’t been hacked out. More like carefully removed. guess they could have been harvested,” Logan said.
“Harvested? Like for sale?”
“Possibly. Right now it is just another unknown.”
“No ID on the Jane Doe yet?”
“Prints came back with no match. We are checking with missing persons and have it out on the wire to the other agencies,” Logan told him.
“Did you read the paper this morning?”
“Yeah. Carrie buried it on page three. The television stations are clamoring for information. I have a briefing scheduled for 10:00 a.m. You want to be there?”
“No. At this point, let’s just treat it like another murder. I guess I don’t need to tell you what not to tell them.”
“I think I know how to handle a situation like this by now.”
“Who else knows the actual details? I mean the head thing and the Styrofoam peanuts in the cavity?”
“Just me and Myler as far as I know. Carrie has the basics but not the details.”
“Let’s keep it that way for now.”
“I intended to,” Logan said, heading for the door.
“This isn’t the start of a series is it? The last thing we need is some nut running around cutting the tops off of young women’s heads. Please tell me this is an isolated event.”
“I wish I knew,” Logan replied as he closed the door.
“I wish I knew, he muttered to himself.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Promptly at 10:00 a.m. Logan walked into the conference room on the first floor of the precinct house. The three local television stations were there along with Carrie Brown from the Star and Lester Wilson from the Gazette. Another woman slipped into the room just as Logan went to the lectern.
“Okay, you guys all know how this works. I’ll give you what we know so far and then I will open it up for questions. You have to play nice or I will end the briefing. Having said that, here is what we have so far,” Logan said, pulling a paper out of his jacket pocket and spreading it out before him.
“The body of a young female, approximately twenty years old, was discovered by two women cutting through the park. This occurred around 8:15 p.m. according to them. They called the police from their cell phone. I was the senior detective on duty so I was sent to investigate. Once the area was secure and the ME sent for, we uncovered the body. Our Jane Doe was a Caucasian with blond hair and blue eyes. Cause of death has not been determined at this time. We found no obvious wounds on her that would result in death. The toxicology report indicates a low level of alcohol in her system and no drugs. We are currently looking at missing persons for an ID. Prints turned up no match. I will pass on the cause of death as soon as it is determined,” he said, looking up from the paper.
He looked at each of them before opening the floor up for questions.
“Yes, Lester.”
“Was she killed in the park or just dumped there?”
“She was placed there. We do not know where the actual death took place,” Logan answered.
“Follow up, please. Had she been molested?”
“Not in the usual sense. Signs of sexual intercourse were present but it does not appear to be typical of a rape victim.”
“Bob Hartley, Channel 3. Was any evidence gathered at the location where she was found?”
“Unfortunately the heavy show wiped all traces away. We found nothing useful at the scene,” Logan said.
“Luther Stone, Channel 8 news. You’re saying that sexual intercourse was evident but it wasn’t rape. How do you know?”
“Well, Luther, we aren’t a hundred percent sure but there was no evident trauma like we usually find with rape victims.”
“So she was killed by someone that knew her well?” he added.
“That is a possibility, but it is only speculation. I don’t work on speculation.”
“Carrie Brown, Star. Was she clothed when she was found and if not, did she have any marks on her body?”
&n
bsp; Damn you Carrie, he thought.
“She was not clothed and yes, she had some marks on her body but that is to be expected when someone is moved from one place to another. Dead weight is very hard to move so most victims get dragged. It leaves marks,” Logan replied, not looking directly at her.
“What about the fact that the top of her head had been removed and her brain scooped out?” a voice from the corner of the room asked.
“You are?” Logan asked.
“Lisa McGuire.”
“You are with?”
“National People’s News,” she said, stepping forward.
Logan looked her over. She was tall with long legs and striking green eyes. She didn’t seem like the type of sleazy reporter that is usually associated with a rag like the NPN.
“And where did you get this information?”
“Sorry. Can’t say. Is it true?” she asked staring directly at him.
“Not exactly as you stated it. No one lopped off her head and scooped her brains out, as you so eloquently put it.”
She flashed a smile, showing white, even teeth that must have cost someone a small fortune.
“Let me put it this way. Was the top of her head opened?”
“That is correct,” he replied.
“Was her brain taken out?”
“That is also correct,” Logan replied, trying to fight off the anger that was rising in him.
He was very much aware of the buzzing of the other reporters in the room.
“Do you have a suspect?” Lester asked.
“Dr. Frankenstein but we haven’t brought him in for questioning yet. Seems he left the country,” Logan quipped.
Two other hands shot up but Logan ignored them.
“That’s it for now. We will update you when we have further information,” he said heading straight for the tall blond.
“Detective Logan,” she said holding out a slim hand with no rings on her fingers.
Her eyes were bright green and Logan wondered if they were tinted contact lenses. Her movements were like fluid. He caught a faint whiff of her perfume. Opium. The lady had class regardless of where she worked.
“Ms. McGuire,” he said, shaking her hand. She had a stronger grip than he had expected.
The Logan Files - Pain Center: The Logan Files Page 8
