Retribution

by T. K. Walls

  THIRTY-ONE

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING THE FIRE AND BUILDING INSPECTORS CLEARED THE HANGAR, AND THE AIRCRAFT WAS DISASSEMBLED. The body, still sitting in the pilot’s seat, was taken to the medical examiner for the autopsy. The rest of the plane was taken to the police crime lab.

  Ryan, eating a large, puffy glazed donut and carrying his coffee mug, arrived at the morgue shortly after the body was dropped off. He didn’t seem to notice the bits of icing on his cheek. Dead bodies never affected his appetite. However, the stench in the room was enough to make him gag, and the donut he was eating began to taste like a rotting, burnt corpse. He rushed to the trash can and spit out what was left in his mouth and tossed the rest of the donut and his coffee into the can.

  The autopsy room smelled like a mixture of wet, burnt leaves and a rotting roadkill in the heat of August. The pilot’s seat, with the body still taped to it, had been placed on a low table, which was sitting on top of a large plastic evidence cloth. He would need to remove the body and place it on the slab to perform the autopsy. Walking around the plastic cloth, he examined the remnants of what he was certain was duct tape that had secured the upper arms and torso of the body to the seat. Whoever did this really wanted this guy to not only die but suffer in the process. Staring at the corpse, he realized his job had just gone sideways. He was going to need help getting the body out of the seat. Speaking softly to the corpse, he said, “You remind me of the guy in the wet suit. You must have really pissed off someone. How did you end up here?”

  He wasn’t sure if Mark was in class or not, but he needed him. If all he could do was leave a voice mail, then that would have to be enough for now. And of course, the call went immediately to voice mail. “This is Dr. Davis,” he said. “Mark, what time can you get here? I need your help ASAP! Call me as soon as you get this message.” He hung up the phone and muttered, “Figures. That’s what I get for hiring medical students.”

  Before he could put his cell phone back into his pocket, Mark returned his call. The medical school was buzzing with rumors about a body found in the fire at the airport, and Mark wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to work on this case. He was already in the school parking lot, running toward his car, when he called the coroner back. “Got your message, Doc. I am on my way.” He disconnected the call before Ryan could reply.

  It was all he could do to drive within the speed limit and not run any red lights. Barely slowing down, he whipped into the medical examiner’s parking lot and parked his Mustang in the spot next to Ryan’s car. He jumped out and ran to the rear door of the morgue and, using his key card to get inside, ran in yelling for Ryan. “Doc! I’m here. Hey, I heard about this guy in class. Whoa, dude, it smells in here!” The odor stopped Mark in his tracks. He slapped his hand over his nose and looked around the room for Ryan.

  Ryan came out of his office wearing a mask. Laughing at the med student, he handed him a box of masks. “You should have seen your face, kid! It was priceless! Here, put this on. It won’t stop you from smelling it, but at least it will make it a little better. If it smells like peppermint, it’s because I sprayed peppermint oil on it. It helps dull the smell. Won’t get rid of it, but hey, dull is better than nothing, right? Although you may never eat another candy cane without thinking of this guy.”

  Ryan and Mark were able to get the body out of the seat after a couple of painstaking hours carefully removing the tape from around the victim and the pilot’s seat. The body didn’t come off the seat easily. It was as if it had melted into the leather. Ryan had to carefully peal the body away from the leather, leaving bits and pieces of fabric and skin from the corpse. Several samples were taken from the tape, fabric, and skin as well as the seat. What was left of the body, still in a sitting position, was placed in a CT scanner. After films were taken, it was placed on top of the autopsy slab. “Mark, look, you may want to leave for this part. I need the body to be flat to do the autopsy.”

  Mark nodded his head. “OK, yes, but I am not leaving. So when will the rigor settle?”

  “It won’t. I need to break the limbs, and even for me this is rough. I will understand if you want to take a break, no pun intended.”

  “OK, I get it. Hmm, yeah, I’ll stay. I mean, someday this could be me doing one like this, and the guy is already dead. It is a guy?” Mark softly asked.

  “Yes, it’s a guy, Mark.”

  Ryan explained the process to break the limbs at the joint, while at the same time preserving the long bones. Once the two men had the body flat, additional x-rays were taken, including a panoramic film of the jaw.

  “I think I know who this guy is, and I am hoping and praying I’m wrong. The quickest way to find out is a dental match. This guy has veneers on his front teeth. We can get this to the local dentists today or tomorrow at the latest. I’m ready to start the formal autopsy. Do you need a break? I know I do,” he said thoughtfully.

  “Um, yeah, sure, I could use a soda.” Mark paused, looking at the body sitting eerily on the slab. “Doc, who do you think this guy is? Damn, what a way to go, huh?”

  The men went to the employee break room where Ryan kept a supply of Diet Coke in the fridge. Everyone who worked there knew he didn’t care who drank the soda, as long as the last one wasn’t taken. He peered inside the soda box and was relieved to see the box was half full. He took out two and tossed one to Mark. They sat in silence drinking their sodas.

  “Are you ready, kid?” Ryan quietly asked, breaking the silence. This body was getting to him. He couldn’t put his finger on it yet, but something about this guy was just wrong. It wasn’t that he died in a fire, and it wasn’t that he was strapped to the pilot’s seat. For all he knew, this was a mob hit. There was simply something else, and Ryan couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever it was, it was close.

  Mark nodded his head and tossed the empty soda can into the trash. “Let’s do it, Doc!”

  Ryan led the way to autopsy room, stopping first to put on a pair of blue paper overalls, blue foot covers, and a blue paper hat. Mark did the same. Once they were each dressed, with masks in place, Ryan motioned for Mark to turn on the recorder. Ryan stated the date and time for the recorder and gave a brief description of the body.

  The limbs hadn’t been as difficult to break as Ryan had expected. Both he and Mark carefully removed whatever clothing they could. The body was fairly well burnt, and it wasn’t possible to remove all the clothing. Before Ryan performed the standard Y incision, he took photos of the corpse, but stopped when he noticed something unusual.

  “Mark, come over here and tell me what you think of this guy’s upper legs and chest. Do you notice anything out of the ordinary?”

  “Doc, this whole guy is out of the ordinary!” Mark said. Although visibly shaken, Mark was trying to sound confident. “I don’t know what I am looking for. It just looks burnt!”

  Ryan pointed to the corpse. “Take a closer look at the legs and chest. I’ll have to send samples of these areas to the state crime lab, but if I am right—and I have no reason to doubt my findings—there are places on his legs and chest that look like the fire started in each area, then were extinguished and started a second time.”

  Ryan leaned closer to the right upper leg, using a magnifying lens to assist him in his evaluation. “It’s barely noticeable, but one of the burns has a layered appearance. The only way this happens is if he was set on fire and then, for whatever sick reason, the fire was extinguished and restarted in the exact same place!” Ryan exclaimed while removing cloth and tissue samples from the legs and chest and placing them in a steel tray for Mark to label for evidence.

  “You think he was set on fire? Couldn’t the same thing happen if the fire started and he caught fire in different areas at different times?” Mark asked as he labeled the samples.

  “No, this could only happen if different parts of his body were set on fire at different times. I think he was the start of the fire. Think about it: Why was this guy duct taped to the seat? There a
ppear to be areas that burned, but not as much as other areas. For example, this area on his right upper thigh. The clothes appear to have burned in a small circle, but the tissue under it isn’t. Yet the rest of his leg is burned. How did his pants burn, yet the skin under the pants didn’t burn, but the rest of the upper leg did? It looks like somehow this part was on fire, then the fire went out, and the rest of this started from another area. If I am right, this guy was tortured before he finally died. We need to find out who he is, or was, and soon.”

  Ryan finished the autopsy and gave his initial cause of death as fire. He turned off the recorder and said to Mark, “Let’s get him into a body bag. The dental films will go out tomorrow. Until then, we wait. And I need to make a phone call.”

  It was already late in the day when Ryan tried to reach Mac. If he didn’t answer his cell, he would try the sheriff’s office. Just as he expected, Mac didn’t answer, and he wasn’t at the office. After leaving messages for Mac to call him, he locked up and went home.

  * * *

  Mac was intentionally ignoring the calls from Ryan. He had spent the entire night of the fire with his deputies at the airport, and that was after spending the day at work. He waited until the body had been sent to the morgue and the crime lab had finished processing the hangar before going back to his office. As soon as he could leave the next day, he went home. After more than twenty-four hours at work, he needed a break. When he got home he showered and went straight to bed. As exhausted as he was, he was surprised that he had difficulty sleeping. Finally he did fall asleep, and when he did, he dreamt of the fire.

  THIRTY-TWO

  THE OBNOXIOUS IPHONE ALARM WOKE MAC UP FROM A RESTLESS SLEEP. He was still very tired but also grateful to be awake. The nightmare still lingering in his consciousness, he slowly pulled himself out of bed, tossing the blankets to the floor, and stumbled into the bathroom. There were times when he looked into the mirror that he barely recognized himself. This was one of those mornings. He looked haggard and old. “Time to retire and move to a warm beach somewhere,” he muttered to himself.

  Mac showered quickly and headed back into town. Instead of going to the sheriff’s office, he stopped for donuts and coffee and then went directly to the medical examiner’s office. Ryan would be there early, and he knew Ryan would be irritated with him for ignoring his calls. He also knew the quickest way to his friend’s forgiveness was a donut and a cup of hot coffee from his favorite mom-and-pop café.

  Ryan pulled into the parking lot just after Mac had parked the police cruiser. He watched as Mac held the bag of donuts from the car window for him to see. “Look, you asshole, it’s going to take more than a donut for you to get off my shit list,” Ryan laughingly yelled at him as he walked over to the police cruiser.

  Mac got out of the cruiser and held up his offering of coffee. “So, will hot coffee from Sara’s get me off that shit list?” Mac joked as he handed Ryan the coffee.

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s a start,” he replied as he waved his hand. “Nice of you to finally show up! Been trying to call you since yesterday. We need to talk! But first I want a donut, and I need that coffee. Yesterday and last night were bad. Couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking about this guy and how he died. Hell of a way to go. Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll give you all the details.”

  Once inside, Ryan led the way to his office. “Thank God I had a medical student to help with this one,” he said. After making sure they were alone, he closed the door and explained his theory to Mac.

  “You think this guy was set on fire, then the fire was put out, and then he was set on fire again? That doesn’t make any sense.” Mac was struggling to wrap his head around his friend’s theory. “That means this guy was tortured and intentionally killed. Plus, you think—and correct me if I’m misunderstanding you—you think this murder is related to the detective’s murder? How? He wasn’t stuffed in a wet suit—or in anything, for that matter. His cause of death wasn’t hidden, and nothing postmortem happened to him. I don’t see how it’s related.”

  “Right. He wasn’t stuffed into a wet suit; he was duct-taped to a seat and set on fire. So the body was contained just prior to death, instead of after death. And yes, nothing happened to the body after he died, but I still think somehow these two are connected. It’s just a feeling, Mac. I have been doing this for a long time. Somehow these two are related. Piecing this all together is up to you and your guys.” Ryan waited for Mac to say something.

  “Yeah, it is up to us to put this together. And it does sound like a complicated mess. OK, let’s go with your theory. If these two are related, then we have a serial killer in or around our little town,” Mac said, downing the last of his coffee and tossing the cup in the trash. “We need to find this guy’s identity.”

  “Yes, about that. I think I know who he is, Mac. And I hope to God I’m wrong. I sent his dental films to the local dentists in town and to a couple in Boston. I should have the results in a couple of days at the most,” Ryan replied.

  “Want to clue me in? Who do you think he is?” asked Mac.

  “Brad Rivers. I think he’s Dr. Brad Rivers. As of the fire, his business partner, Eric Wilkerson, who is also his lawyer, couldn’t reach him. He said all the calls were going to voice mail.” Ryan sighed and took another drink from his coffee before continuing. “Think about it. Who else could this guy be?”

  Mac slowly nodded his head in understanding. “This is the same Dr. Rivers who recently crashed a plane in Florida that killed his wife and daughter?”

  “That’s right. And that wasn’t the first accident. He crashed a plane a few years ago that killed his first wife and all their children but one. A daughter named… I think her name was Stephanie. This latest crash was his second wife and the surviving child from the first accident. Maybe someone had it in for him?” Ryan asked. “I mean, what are the odds of crashing two planes and surviving?”

  “Ryan, I can see where you think the bodies are similar, but I don’t see a connection between the pilot doctor and the detective. Remember, we haven’t had a positive ID of the body yet. I don’t want to assume anything,” Mac said with a mouthful of donut.

  Ryan smiled. “Mac, my man, you need more coffee! I can draw the line for you if you need me to,” he laughed as he jokingly slapped Mac’s shoulder. “Eric Wilkerson is the connection, or his former girlfriend is the connection. Bear with me for a moment. The new attorney in town is Emily Bridges. She was once engaged to Eric Wilkerson, who just happens to be business partners with Dr. Rivers. She also once worked with Detective Connard, the body she found in the surf. Now, Mac, I am the coroner, not a cop, and I don’t believe in coincidences. I’m damn sure you don’t either!”

  Mac nodded his head and agreed with him. “OK, that is a strange connection. Before we pursue this angle, let’s make sure your dead body is Dr. Rivers. If it is Dr. Rivers, who would want him dead? I mean, think about it: He ran a successful plastic surgery center, his business at the airport seems busy, and his partner is a lawyer. Not to mention that he never had so much as a speeding ticket. So if your theory is correct, then someone wanted him dead, and someone wanted him to suffer. Did anything else show up on the autopsy?”

  Ryan leaned back in his chair. “Even though he suffered severe burns, I was able to get some organ and tissue samples. So far, nothing. The toxicology results were sent to the state, but the preliminary results were negative. Hey, did you have a chance to go over the crime scene photos?”

  Mac set his coffee cup on the desk. “No, I spent the first night at the airport with my men. I think I slept most of yesterday! And this morning, I literally came directly here after going to Sara’s for donuts and coffee. Are the photos uploaded?”

  “Yeah, they are ready. From what I can tell, the fire started with the plane. We still need to get the fire inspector’s report. But it’s pretty obvious the fire started with the guy who was duct taped to the pilot’s seat.”

  Ryan turned his computer for Mac to see and
opened the file containing the pictures. Nothing looked out of the ordinary until he opened the file containing Dr. Rivers’s car. Ryan pointed to the screen and excitedly asked, “Mac, do you see that? What the hell?” Stuffed in the driver’s window frame was a small plastic bag. Ryan zoomed in on the baggie until they both saw what appeared to be an old, yellowed newspaper clipping of a birth announcement.

  Mac leaned in to get a closer look. “I can’t make out anything other than that’s a birth announcement. Hmmm, Ryan, I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I’m beginning to think maybe you’re on to something. And don’t let this go to your head!”

  “Now, that will be a first, buddy! Can’t imagine being right,” Ryan chuckled as he shook his head at Mac. “Given how many times in my career I have never been wrong! All kidding aside, finding the identity of this man is my first priority.”

  “I agree. I need to know ASAP if that body is Dr. Rivers, and honestly, I have a very bad feeling it is. I also need to know today what is on the newspaper announcement. I’ll be in touch.”

  Mac hurriedly got out of his chair and left the medical examiner’s office. He pulled out of the parking lot so fast his tires squealed. He needed to have a chat with Eric Wilkerson and Emily Bridges, and the sooner the better. He couldn’t afford to wait for the completion of the autopsy report.

  THIRTY-THREE

  “DR. RIVERS, FINALLY YOU ANSWER THE PHONE,” TEDESCO SAID FLATLY. He didn’t like to wait, and he most assuredly did not like to have his calls ignored. Regardless of the man’s family’s funerals, Brad was more than aware of his obligations to Tedesco, and ignoring Tedesco wasn’t in his best interest.

  “Hmmm, yes, my apologies, Monsignor,” Seth replied carefully. He wondered if Tedesco would notice the difference between his voice and Brad’s. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to.