"He?" Jasper raised an eyebrow. "You saying the murderer couldn't have been a woman?"
"Your suspect's a woman?" The coroner straightened and frowned.
"No suspects yet, Doc, just asking."
"Well, if it was a woman, I wouldn't want to date her. She'd have to be a body builder, or maybe a black belt." He shook his head again. "No, I doubt your average woman could do this."
"Maybe she's stronger than she looks?" Willis looked skeptical.
"And maybe we need to talk to Derrick Penningly, and see if he's a martial arts nut with a short temper." Jasper nodded to the coroner. "Thanks, Doc."
"Part of the job." He covered the corpse with the sheet. "Oh, by the way, all internal organs looked normal. I'm running the usual tests, but I don't expect any surprises. On the upside, matching the murder weapon to the wounds should be easy. The spacing of the wounds was slightly irregular and should match the tines of the thing perfectly."
The two detectives left the morgue and headed for their car.
"So," Willis began as he slid in behind the wheel, "do we go to him, or do we call a unit to pick him up and bring him down to the station?"
"We go to him." Jasper rubbed his eyes. He'd been up most of the night at the crime scene.
"You and your element of surprise," Willis grumbled.
"That, and I want to see where this guy lives and if his apartment is full of martial arts junk."
"Ha! We should be so lucky." Willis started the car and pulled out into traffic.
"Don't laugh. It could happen." Jasper didn't have much confidence in the claim. They were never that lucky.
We've come to see Bob Tomlin's body," Aleksi told the receptionist. When the man just looked at her as if he expected more information, she said, "I spoke with Sergeant Jasper. He said we could come down and see him."
"Your names?"
"Aleksi Rychenkna and Julie Parks."
"We usually only let family members in to see the deceased." He said it like it was a law.
"Please call Sergeant Jasper, then." Aleksi produced his card from a pocket. "He woke us up at six o'clock this morning to tell us our friend had been murdered and said we could come down here."
"I'll have to okay this with the coroner." He nodded to the row of industrial-looking plastic chairs. "Please have a seat."
They sat, Julie wrung a handkerchief she'd been crying into all morning, and Aleksi fidgeted. There was nothing to read, not even the 'wash your hands' posters you saw in clinics and emergency rooms. Of course, most people who came here weren't interested in reading. Most of the people who came here weren't interested in anything at all.
Fifteen minutes later a man in scrubs came from down the hall and stopped before them. "I'm Phil Lambert, the coroner's assistant. I can show you Bob Tomlin's body."
"Thank you," Aleksi said, and they both stood.
"This way, please." He didn't smile, but then, Aleksi didn't suppose there was much call for smiling in a job like his.
Lambert escorted them through a pair of stainless-steel doors into the morgue, the air redolent with the scents of antiseptic and old blood. Aleksi wrinkled her nose and swallowed. She hadn't been particularly eager to come down here—she had never seen a dead body before, except for a few open casket funerals as a girl—and didn't relish the thought of seeing Bob's. Julie, however, had been adamant, and Aleksi wouldn't let her go through it alone.
"Just over here." Lambert pointed to a row of gleaming metal doors. He pulled one open, then slid out the drawer from within. The shape on the metal table was covered with a blue plastic sheet. He folded the blanket back carefully, just far enough to expose the face; Bob Tomlin's friendly round features, as peaceful as if he were sleeping.
"Oh, Bobby…" Julie sobbed, reaching forward to touch his pale cheek. The coroner's assistant reached for her hand.
"Please, Miss. I can't allow you to touch the body."
"Leave me alone!" Julie snapped, jerking her hand away.
Her fingers caught the blanket and pulled it down to reveal the four deep gashes that had ripped away much of Bob's throat. The ragged edges of flayed meat looked like something from a horror movie, but too real to be a Hollywood prop. Aleksi's gaze was drawn to those wounds, the gaping flesh, the torn meat, and the tangy sweet scent of blood.
"Oh my God!" Julie staggered back, her hand over her mouth, as pale as Bob's corpse but unable to look away.
"Julie!" Aleksi grasped her to keep her from falling, then glared at the assistant. "Cover him up, please!"
"Sorry, but I warned you." The assistant pulled the blanket back up. "This is why we generally don't allow people to come in here."
"No, please! I'm okay." Julie clutched Aleksi's arm, trembling. "Please! Just his face."
"I'm sorry, Miss, but I can't be responsible for—"
"Please!" Aleksi said, maybe a bit too firmly. She gritted her teeth and forced her temper down, but something had her nerves wound tight. "They were close, and his family's from Utah. This might be the last time she gets to see him."
"All right." The attendant pulled the sheet down as carefully as he had before. "But if either of you is not feeling well, let me know immediately."
"Thank you." Aleksi kept a firm hold on Julie as the woman sobbed and stared at Bob's lifeless face.
"Oh, Bobby…" she whispered, trembling like a leaf in the wind.
After a time, Julie nodded and turned away. She muttered her thanks one more time to the attendant and allowed Aleksi to drive her back to the apartment. During the slow drive, however, Aleksi kept recalling the four jagged tears in Bob Tomlin's neck, and how much they resembled her nightmares.
24
Nice place." Willis stopped the car in front of the high-rent condominium. "The kid must have some cash."
"He's going to Harvard, isn't he?" Jasper got out, gritting his teeth against the slap of icy wind. It was colder now than it had been at six AM. Another Arctic blast. They were entrenched in the typical New England winter schedule; an icy slap in the face every three days. He stamped his feet and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
"Most are on student loans, the way I hear it." Willis joined him on the sidewalk and they strode up to the office entrance. "Those girls' apartment wasn't much, and their furniture looked like garage sale stuff."
"Good point."
They flashed their badges to the bored young woman behind the desk and got directions to Derrick Penningly's unit. Fifth floor facing the river; number five twelve. They didn't know if he'd be home, but had checked his schedule with the registrar, and knew he didn't have classes. Willis pushed the buzzer and they got lucky.
"Yeah?" A clean-cut young man in a Princeton sweatshirt and jeans answered the door, a curious but friendly look on his face. "Can I help you?"
"We hope so, Mister Penningly." Jasper displayed his badge. "I'm Sergeant Jasper from the Cambridge Police Department, and this is Detective Willis. We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you have the time."
"Uh…sure." He opened the door wide and waved a hand. "Come on in. What's up?"
"Nice place," Willis said as they entered the main living room. It wasn't just a river-front view, but a corner view, with a huge balcony overlooking the river and the city. The furnishings were also top notch, in a kind of macho, black and white motif that screamed money. There was a full kitchen with gleaming appliances, and what looked like two bedrooms. It didn't look very lived in for a bachelor's apartment, however. "Big, too. Just you, or do you have a roommate?"
"Just me, and it's not that big. I use the second bedroom as an office."
"Must have set you back some."
"My father pays the rent, so I really couldn't say." He folded his arms and frowned. "Last time I checked, it wasn't against the law to have money, so if there was something else you wanted to talk about."
"We'd just like to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Aleksi Rychenkna and Bob Tomlin." Jasper watched the kid closel
y; raised eyebrows and a surprised little frown. "You do know them."
"I know Aleksi, but I don't know any Bob Tomlin." He looked suddenly suspicious. "What's this about? What did she tell you?"
"You sure you don't know Bob Tomlin?" Jasper held up a hand at shoulder-height, palm down. "About so tall, brown hair, also one of Dr. Hutchinson's graduate students."
"Oh, wait! Yeah, I did meet him once, I guess, right outside Dr. Hutchinson's office. But I never really talked to him." He was still looking suspicious, but not scared or deceitful. "What did that crazy Russian tell you about me? Did she tell you what she did to my car? Twenty-eight hundred dollars damage, is what! I should have called you on her for that!"
"She did say that you two had a disagreement over some research data, and that she keyed your car. If you want to press charges, all you have to do is file a report. She also said you stole some research data from her, which is a serious crime." But not as serious as murder, he thought, still watching the young man's reactions. Most people displayed certain behaviors when they lied, but Derrick Penningly was showing none of them. In fact, he wasn't showing much facial expression at all.
"Is that what this is about? She told you I stole that data?" He looked suddenly angry, with clenched fists and distended veins in his neck. "She gave me that data. I told Dr. Hutchinson that! What I didn't tell him is that after she invited me aboard, she asked me out, and when I told her I didn't think it would be a good idea, she threatened to flunk me out of her lab class."
"The…" Willis made a show of consulting his notes, "comparative zoology class?"
"Yes, that's right. Ask anyone in class; they know what happened." He took a deep breath, suddenly calm again. "At the time, I didn't want to get into a disagreement with her, so I told her I'd think about it. After all, there was still a chance we could work together on the project. Dr. Hutchinson got some real money to back the project, thanks to me, and now she's trying to bump me out of it by telling him I stole the data. Not to mention cover her own ass for asking me aboard without checking with him first."
"Then you got into an argument and she keyed your car," Jasper reiterated, thinking, Either this guy is a really good liar, or Aleksi Rychenkna left out a few details this morning.
"Yeah, only it was all her. She chased me down after her class, and I told her I wasn't going to play her stupid game. I mean, I just want to get on board with a good professor and do my work, right? Then she gouged the hood of my car and threatened to rip my throat out."
"She threatened you?" Willis scratched in his pad. "Can you remember her exact words?"
"Not exactly, but it was something like I better back the fuck off, or she'd do the same to my throat." He stopped and looked at them both. "But I don't get it? What's this got to do with Bob Tomlin? Did she accuse him of stealing from her, too?"
"No, Mister Penningly." Jasper decided it was time to drop the bomb. "Bob Tomlin was murdered last night in the Oxford Parking garage."
"Murdered?"
Jasper watched him closely, and the astonishment on the kid's face looked genuine. "Yes, Mister Penningly, and coincidently, the injury that killed him sounds remarkably similar to what you just described that Aleksi Rychenkna threatened to do to you."
"Holy shit!" Penningly stood there wide-eyed. "I knew she was crazy, but I didn't think she was homicidal!"
"The coroner's report stated that it was unlikely that a woman could inflict the wounds that killed Bob Tomlin."
"Well, she inflicted some pretty serious damage in the hood of my car! Maybe you should check that out!"
"Actually, we'd like that very much, Mister Penningly," Jasper said. "Now would be good for us."
"Um…sure." Penningly looked surprised that they took him up on the offer. "Let me grab a coat."
When the kid was out of the room, Jasper exchanged a pointed glance with Willis. His partner just showed him the last page of his note pad. "Threatened to rip his throat out? WTF?"
Jasper nodded; this case was about to bust wide open, and it was only the first day after the murder. With a little physical evidence, they might be able to wrap this up before the weekend.
I can't believe Bob's dead." Lonnie wiped her eyes and stared at the untouched food on the table.
Terry Price, whom Aleksi had only met once, sipped his beer and shook his head while John Alvarez drew circles on the table in the condensation from his glass. Lonnie had suggested they all get together, and Aleksi had agreed that it would be a good idea, but not for the same reasons as Lonnie.
"I took Julie down to the morgue to see him." She sipped her wine just for something to do. The others looked up at her, but their stares didn't intimidate her as they once had. "Julie was dating him and wanted to see him."
"Bob was dating?" John asked, with a sudden hint of his usual sense of humor. "Like, a girl?"
"Yeah. I kind of set them up. She liked him, said he was nice, and she didn't usually get to date nice guys."
"Well, he was that." Lonnie sniffed and raised her glass. "To Bob."
They raised their glasses, and Terry added, "And to the police finding the motherfucker who killed him."
After they clinked glasses and drank, Aleksi took the opportunity to say what she'd come to say. "That's something I wanted to tell you all. I think you should all be careful. I think this might have something to do with our research, and a guy who's trying to steal it."
"Someone's trying to steal the bone bed research?" John furrowed his brow.
"Not that project; the Kamchatka specimen we found. This guy, Derrick Penningly, somehow got my data files, then told Hutch that I'd given them to him. I didn't. He also told Hutch that I asked him to come on board the project, which is also a lie." She took a deep breath; they were all staring at her. "He's a post-grad student in my comp zoo lab and works at the MCZ. I think he's been telling lies about me there, too, trying to make me look bad. He wants to come on as one of Hutch's students next year."
"Strange way to go about it, lying and stealing." Terry sounded skeptical.
"But there's no proof." Aleksi met their eyes one by one. "It's his word against mine."
"I don't get it? What's this got to do with Bob?"
Aleksi looked at Lonnie and laid it out. "Bob was upset with me about Derrick. Really upset. Yesterday, after class, I cornered Derrick and told him to back off. He called me pathetic, insisting I invited him aboard, then lied to Hutch about it to cover my ass. I lost my temper and threatened him, and…and I scratched his car."
"Jesus Christ, Aleksi!" Lonnie gaped at her.
"Yeah, I know. Not like me." She looked down at her wine, then back up at Lonnie. "But that's what I wanted to tell you all. I threatened Derrick with violence, then that very night Bob is killed. I think he might have done it and is trying to frame me for it. With both Bob and me out of the picture, there's nobody to handle either of the projects, and he gets to waltz right in and take over."
"Oh, come on, Aleksi." Terry lowered his voice. "You think he murdered Bob to secure a research project? That's crazy!"
"I know." Aleksi met Terry's skepticism with a level stare, remembering the danger she'd felt facing Derrick Penningly. "That's why I think he did it."
It's not a perfect match, but it's close." The forensics technician tapped a micrometer on the hood of Derrick Penningly's BMW. "Nice ride, by the way. M-3 limited edition with custom interior. Whoever owns this baby's got some serious disposable income."
"Yeah, his family's loaded." Willis grinned like a wolf. "The kid cried like a baby when we told him we'd have to impound his car."
"So, the spacing between the scratches is different than the wounds that killed Bob Tomlin?" Jasper tried to stay focused. Fatigue was coming down hard now. He'd been going non-stop for eighteen hours, and coffee had lost its effect. "That'll stand up in court?"
"Oh, absolutely!" The tech pointed at the scale color image of Bob Tomlin's torn throat, then at the scratches on the hood of the car. "Spacing's
off, but like I said, it's close."
"The woman who did the hood told us she used keys. Could they have—"
"No way," the tech interrupted. "Look here. Run your fingers over those scratches. The metal was actually creased, and some was even removed. No key did that."
The two detectives looked at each other.
"I think we need to have another chat with Aleksi Rychenkna." Willis sounded ready to jump in the car and race down to her apartment again.
"Tomorrow." Jasper shook his head. "I need some sleep and a meal that wasn't deep fried. We'll call her first thing and have her come down for an interview."
"You really enjoy ruining people's mornings, don't you?" Willis turned away from the car.
"It's a hobby of mine." Jasper chuckled and followed.
"One more thing, Sergeant." The technician tapped his micrometer on the damaged hood again, and they both turned back. "There was some force behind this to crease the metal like that. If a woman did this…"
"Enough force to do that?" Jasper asked, pointing to the photo of Bob Tomlin's neck.
"Might have to talk to a buddy of mine from MIT to figure that out, but I'd say so."
"Talk to your buddy and get me some hard numbers. I want to know if the same person could have done both of those, and I want to know by tomorrow."
"You got it, Sergeant," the technician said with a grin.
Of course he's grinning, Jasper thought, I just handed him twelve hours of overtime. He shook his head and left the garage, thinking only of a cold beer, a hot meal, and a warm bed.
Julie?" Aleksi stepped around the overnight bag next to the door. There were sounds coming from the bathroom, and the door was open, so she peeked in. Julie was rifling through drawers, a handful of items already clutched in one hand. "Hey. What's up with the bag?"
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