David Baldacci - True Blue

“When I saw the bruising on the neck base I felt sure I’d find ligature marks on the neck or evidence of smothering, with homicidal asphyxia being the cause of death.”

“But it wasn’t?”

“No, the lady basically had her neck broken.”

“Basically? Without full ligature marks?”

“Well, there’s more. A lot more, actually. Pretty severe injury.”

“Atlanto-occipital disarticulation and not simply a dislocation?” Cassell smiled. “I forgot how well versed you are in forensic matters. Yes, a disarticulation clearly.”

With one of the detectives’ assistance he turned Tolliver’s body on its side and pointed to the base of her neck. “Cranio-cervical junction injury.” Cassell pressed his fingers against points along the base of the skull and the upper spine. “Brain stem and upper to midcervical spinal cord, above C4.”

“Full disruption of the cardio-respiratory regulation centers. Immediately fatal.”

“Are you angling for my job, Beth?” he said jokingly.

“No, Doc, do you want mine?”

“Good God no!”

“So someone crushed her neck. What else?”

“Hemorrhages in the soft tissues of the back of the neck and injuries to basilar blood vessels. She also had considerable facial bruising and a cut on her right chin, all pre-death. All fairly straightforward until we get to this.”

He opened a laptop and pulled up some images of the inside of Diane Tolliver’s head. “The X-rays showed separation of the atlas from the base of the skull. You can see the atlas in the foramen magnum-”

“But the spinal canal isn’t visible. Okay, that’s classic disarticulation.”

“Yes, but the brain stem was also transected .”

She glanced up sharply from the laptop screen. “Brain stem transection?”

“It’s most often seen in car crashes where you have massive deceleration. A basilar skull fracture is what killed Dale Earnhardt at Daytona. Or when there’s some sort of lengthy fall involved. The brain stem pops and death is instantaneous.”

Beth pointed to Diane’s body. “This lady was found wedged inside a refrigerator at her law firm about two hours after she walked in the door of her office. She wasn’t driving in the Daytona 500 and she didn’t fall off a building.”

The ME again pointed to the base of the neck where there was considerable discoloration. “A blow right here did the trick. Her being placed in a refrigerator certainly did me no favors, but there are definite signs of bruising before death at this location.”

“A blow? With what, Doc?”

“Now that’s the strange part. I found no trace evidence, no hairs, fibers, plastics, metals, or anything else relating to the injured area.”

“So what was used to kill her, then?”

“My guess is a blow from a foot.”

“A foot?”

Cassell pointed to the abrasions on Tolliver’s face. “It could have happened this way. She’s held down on the floor, facedown with her chin pressed against the linoleum, which accounts for the cut and bruising there when the killing blow was struck. Then someone, a large, powerful man probably, stomps on the back of her neck with all his weight. Now, if a board or pipe or hammer or bat had been used, they might well have left a patterned injury mark on the skin. But as you can see, there was nothing like that here. However, a human foot is flexible and could well have left no discernible marks. Even a fist would have left some sort of pattern, knuckles or even the shape of a palm, for instance. Plus, of course, you can generate much more force with a leg stomp than an arm strike because you can deploy most of your weight in a downward motion.”

“So a foot. But wouldn’t a shoe have left a mark?”

“Possibly, although human skin is not as revealing as a nice wet patch of grass or dirt. I may be able to discern an image at the wound area provided you find me a shoe, a patterned sock, or a foot to compare it with.”

“Okay, but when have you ever seen a brain stem transection from a weaponless assault?”

“Only once, but it was a nonhuman assault.”

She looked at him curiously. “Nonhuman?”

“Years ago I was on vacation at Yellowstone National Park. There unfortunately was a fatality with a camper and I was recruited to perform the autopsy.”

“What killed the person?”

“A grizzly bear. Probably the most dangerous predator on land.” He smiled at Beth. “Other than man, of course, as we both know so well. Anyway, this unfortunate camper had surprised a full-grown male bear while it was scavenging a carcass.”

“But there are no grizzlies in Georgetown, Doc.”

“No, but there is at least one person with abnormal strength and skill. That bruise is in the exact spot necessary to transect the brain stem. I doubt the location of the blow was a coincidence.”

“So was she already unconscious? Or was someone holding her down? If it was just one bandit you’d think she would have fought back and we’d have defensive trace under her fingers.”

“Her cuticles were clean.”

“Drugged?”

“Tox reports aren’t back yet.”

Beth studied the body. “Bandit could’ve had a gun, ordered Tolliver to lie facedown. Then he kills her. That would only take one assailant.”

“Quite right.”

“Okay, what else?”

“We took an inventory of her clothes. We found a couple of fibers that were not from her garments.”

“Her attacker?”

“Possibly. There was also some soiling on her jacket that seemed odd.”

“What kind of soiling?”

“Like grease or dirt, we’re analyzing it now.”

“Not residue from anything in the fridge that might have spilled on her.”

“We inventoried that too. No, it didn’t come from that source.”

“It’s the start of the day, she goes from parking garage to office, and she’s got dirt on her clothes. Bandit leave-behind?”

“Probably.” Cassell shook his head. “It’s still confusing. I spent ten years at the Bronx ME’s office.”

Beth nodded in understanding. “I know, NYPD says perp, MPD says bandit. Can you give me a window on when she died?”

“Extremely problematic, Beth. She was found in a refrigerator set at thirty-eight degrees Fahrenheit and then her body was at room temp for several hours. When I arrived at the crime scene she was very cold to the touch. And then she was parked in one of our morgue freezer beds on arrival here. Now fully freed of those icy conditions, the body is decomposing quite on schedule. She’s still in rigor, as you can see.” He lifted one of the stiff arms. “But the initial refrigeration forestalled the normal post-death chemical process.”

“Stomach contents?”

Cassell clicked some computer keys and then scanned the screen. “At most ME shops unless there’s suspicion of a drug overdose or poisoning we don’t typically do a detailed gastric content analysis. But I knew if I didn’t run it, you’d just tell me to do it.”

“Working relationships just get better with age, don’t they?”

“She had no breakfast, but apparently she had some dinner last night. About six hundred cc’s worth of gastric contents including partially digested red proteins.”

“In other words, bits of steak?”

“Most probably, yes. Peas and corn and what looks to be red-skinned potatoes. Spinach too. The stomach and duodenal mucosal lining were a bright green.”

“Broccoli will do that as well.”

“But broccoli along with corn does not digest readily in the stomach. I would have found parts of it in the gastric content. The corn was there as noted, but no broccoli.”

“Anything else?”

Cassell made a face. “This lady liked her garlic. The smell was overpowering.”