Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [371]
“Wait.” Maggie stopped him, but it wasn’t to save Racine. There was something she wanted to check, now curious. If the girl had still been alive when sitting up, maybe strangulation wasn’t the cause of death. “Do you mind if we take a look at the ligature marks on her neck first?”
“Fine. Let’s take a look at the ligature marks on her neck first.” Wenhoff sighed again and set the scalpel aside, purposely clanking it against the other metal instruments.
Maggie knew he was doing his best to restrain his impatience, though his pudgy face betrayed him with its unnatural shade of red. Sweat beads filled his receding hairline. He was used to doing things his own way and his audiences keeping their mouths shut. That he humored her at all, Maggie regarded as Stan’s ultimate show of respect. Now he stepped aside, giving her permission to proceed.
“So there was nothing left at the scene that could have been used as a ligature?” Maggie asked Tully while she searched the countertops.
This time she saw him check with Racine, and she was the one to answer. “Nothing. The girl wasn’t even wearing panty hose. The purse strap was found intact and clean. Whatever he used, he took with him.”
Maggie found what she was looking for and grabbed the tape dispenser from a desk in the corner. She peeled off her gloves so she could handle the tape, then ripped off a piece, holding each end carefully.
“Stan, could you tilt her head, so I can get a better look at her neck?”
Stan handled the girl’s head as if it belonged to a mannequin. Rigor mortis was fully established and had stiffened the muscles. After about twenty-four more hours, the muscles would become pliable again, but at the moment, Stan had to twist the head in what looked like an irreverent way, but was, in fact, a necessity.
There were several ligature marks, some overlapping, some deeper than the others. The girl’s neck, which probably hadn’t contained a single age line, now looked like a road map in 3-D. In addition to the tracks were massive bruises, where the killer must have decided to use his hands, as well.
“Why do you suppose he had such a tough time getting the job done?” Maggie said out loud, not really expecting an answer.
“Maybe she put up a hell of a fight,” Racine suggested.
The girl was small, barely sixty-two inches, according to Stan’s measurements. Maggie doubted that she could have managed much of a fight.
“Maybe he didn’t want to get the job done right away.” Tully surprised her with his hushed remark. She could feel him close by, looking over her shoulder.
“You mean he just wanted her unconscious?” Racine asked.
Maggie tried not to get distracted and pressed the transparent tape against the girl’s skin, pushing it into one of the ligature grooves.
“He might simply have gotten off on watching her pass out,” Tully said, exactly what Maggie had been thinking. “It could have been part of some autoerotic asphyxiation.”
“That could explain her dying while sitting up,” Maggie said. “Maybe her position was simply a part of his sick game.”
“What are you doing with the tape?” Racine asked her.
Ah, so the good detective would finally admit to not knowing something. Maggie lifted the tape while Stan held a slide up for her to attach it to. When it was safely secure, Maggie raised it up to the light.
“Depending on what the killer used, we can sometimes pick up fibers left in the tracks.”
“That’s if he used a rope or some kind of clothing,” Tully added.
“Or any sort of fabric or nylon. Doesn’t look like any fibers here. But there is something odd. Looks like glitter.”
“Glitter?” Stan was suddenly interested. She handed him the slide and went back to the girl’s throat.
“He must have used something strong and thin.” Maggie pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. “Probably a cord. Maybe something like a clothesline.” She examined the sides of the neck. “Doesn’t appear to be a