Cody McFadyen - Shadow Man

She closes her eyes. Swallows. Opens them. Shakes her head. No.

Inside, I sigh. I am not surprised, but it's still frustrating. Time for that later. I take Bonnie's hand.

"I'm sorry, honey. You asked to see me. You don't have to tell me what you want if you still can't talk. But can you show me?"

She continues to look up at me. She seems to be looking for something in my eyes, some reassurance. I can't tell from her expression whether she is finding it or not. But she nods.

Then she reaches over and takes my hand. I wait, but that's all she does. And then I understand.

"You want to come with me?"

She nods again.

A million thoughts shoot through my head at this. About how I'm unfit to care for myself, much less her. How I'm on a case, and so who's going to watch her? I think these things, but none of it really matters. All I do is smile down at her and squeeze her hand. "I have some things to do, but when I'm ready to leave San Francisco, I'll come get you."

She continues to gaze into my eyes. Seems to find that thing she'd been looking for. She gives my hand a squeeze, and then she lets go, turns her head into her pillow, and closes her eyes. I stand there for a moment, looking down at her.

I walk out of that room knowing something's changed in my life. I wonder whether it's good or bad, and realize that just now, that doesn't really matter. This isn't about good or bad or indifferent. It's about survival. That's the level we're operating at right now, Bonnie and me. We're headed back to SFPD. The car is filled with silence.

"So, you're going to take her?" Jenny asks, breaking it.

"I'm all she's got. Maybe she's all I have too."

Jenny chews on this. A small smile appears on her face. "That's good, Smoky. Real good. You don't want a kid her age in the system. She's too old. No one would adopt her."

I turn to her. I sense something hidden here. Some undercurrent accompanying her words. I frown. She shoots me a tense look. Then relaxes with a sigh.

"I was an orphan. My parents died when I was four, and I grew up in the system. No one seemed interested in adopting a Chinese kid at the time."

I'm shocked and surprised. "I had no idea."

She shrugs. "It's not something you share a lot. You know, 'Hi, I'm Jenny Chang, and I was an orphan.' I don't like to talk about it much."

She looks at me, emphasizing that this moment is no exception. "But I will say this: You did a good thing there. Something pure."

I think about this and know what she says is true. "It does feel right. Annie left her to me--or so I hear. I haven't seen her will yet. Is it true he left it next to Annie's body?"

"Yeah. It's in the file."

"Did you look at it?"

"Yep." She pauses again. Another one of those thoughtful, weighty pauses. "She left everything in your hands, Smoky. The daughter is the true beneficiary, but she named you as executor and trustee. She must have been some friend."

I ache at this sentiment. "She was my best friend. Since high school."

Jenny is quiet for a few moments after this. When she speaks, it's a single word, but it's filled with everything she wants me to know.

"Fuck."

Fuck that, and fuck the world, and injustice, and what happened to you, and your daughter dying, and kids getting killed in general, and fuck it all till it's dead and buried and turned to dust and the dust is gone forever. That's what she's saying.

I reply in kind.

"Thanks."

D O YOU WANTthe full version, or the condensed version?"

Alan opens the folder containing the autopsy report as he says this.

"The condensed version. Please."

"Here are the basics. The killer or killers raped her, both pre-and postmortem. He or they cut her with a sharp blade before she died, with most of the damage inflicted being nonlethal."

Torture. I nod for him to go on.

"Cause of death is exsanguination. She bled out, due to the severing of the jugular." He glances at a page in the folder. "Once she was dead, and they were done having their fun with her body, they cut her open. They removed the internal organs and placed them in Baggies, which were left by the body." He looks up at me. "All the organs are accounted for except the liver."

"They probably took it with them," James says into the silence that follows. "Or ate it." I hide a shiver at these words. I'm sure he's right.

"Examination of the wounds shows that they're consistent with those caused by a scalpel, which fits. Because the ME says that the removal of the organs was skillful. Not just the surgery, but knowing where the organs were and how to remove them intact. They not only separated the large and small intestines, they divided them into their component parts. Three for the small intestine, four for the large."

I think about this for a moment. "Did he--sorry, they --dissect any other organ in the same way?"

He consults the file, then shakes his head. "No." He looks up at me.

"They were showing off."

"That's good," I say, grim.

Leo's look at me is incredulous. "How is that good?"

Alan turns to him, answering the question for me. "It's good because the way we catch these guys is that they make mistakes. If they're showing off, that means the act itself isn't enough for them. They also want our attention. That means they're not going to be as careful as they could be. Or should be. So they're more likely to make mistakes."

"In simpler terms, child," Callie says, "it means they're even more Looney Tunes than usual. That increases the chances of them slipping up."

"I get it." Leo says this but looks a little bit disturbed as he thinks it over. I understand. Looking at the dissection of human organs by two psychopaths as a bright spot is hard to get your mind around. He's probably wondering if he wants to get his mind around it. Alan continues. "Once they'd removed the organs, they left the body cavity open and tied Bonnie to her body." He closes the folder. "No seminal fluids found, and there was some evidence of latex in the vagina."

They'd used rubbers to prevent leaving their DNA.

"Nothing else. No hairs or fingerprints found on or in the body. That's it."

"So what does that leave?"

James shrugs. "Look at the rest of the picture. There weren't any hesitation wounds. They were operating at a high level of certainty in what they were doing when it came to cutting her open. One of them may have had formal medical training. I think it's probable."

"Or they've just had a lot of practice," Callie murmurs.

"What else do we know?" I look around at each of them. Alan pulls out a legal pad and a pen at my words. This is a part of our routine. He's ready to jot down any relevant thoughts and musings.

"We know they're both white, both males," Callie says. "One is close to six feet tall, the other is approximately five ten. Both are in shape."

Alan speaks next. "They're careful. They understand the basics of transference and take precautions to avoid it. No hair, no epithelials, and no semen."

"But they're not as smart as they think they are," I note. "We have the fingerprints on the bed. And we figured out that there are two of them."

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" Alan says in a wry voice. "If they really understood transference, they'd understand it always happens, somehow."

Alan is referring to "Locard's Principle." Locard is considered the father of modern forensics, and we all know the principle by heart: When two objects come into contact, there is always transfer of material from one to the other, and such material may be small or large, may be difficult to detect; never- theless it occurs, and it is the responsibility of the investigating team to gather all such material however small they may be and prove the transference. Our killers were careful. The absence of semen is telling. It shows control. With the advent of crime books, television shows, and HIV, rapists using rubbers is on the rise. But it's still unusual. Rape is about sexual power and violation. Rapists get high on the intensity of sensation this gives them. Condoms get in the way of both the violation and the sensation. Jack Jr. and friend used them, making Alan's point for him.