Sauk Valley Killer

by KJ Kalis

  “Maybe eleven? Does that give you enough time?”

  “Of course. We will pick you up then.”

  The next few hours went by quickly, Kat doing a little housework and writing at the same time. While there were lots of people who could sit down and work for hours at a stretch, Kat’s brain just didn’t work that way. It worked better for her to write a little, research a little or edit a little bit and then go do something else for a few minutes. It helped her to balance all the different roles in her life — wife, mom, and journalist.

  Van walked into the kitchen jingling his keys. “Are you ready to go?”

  Kat nodded. “Yes. Let me just put the puppy in the crate.” Dillon had been chewing on a blue plastic bone by her feet while she was on her computer. She bent over, picked him up, and took him to his crate. He started to wriggle and fuss, knowing what was happening next.

  “He doesn’t like the crate much.”

  “I don’t think I would either,” Kat said, slipping on her shoes. “It’s way better than coming home to find a mess everywhere, though. The vet said we don’t have to have him in there for too long. Maybe another month or so.”

  Neither of them said anything more as they walked out to the truck. The reality of what they were about to do settled over them. No one wanted to spend their morning going to the medical examiner’s office, especially if it was for someone you knew. They drove in silence, the radio chatting away while the minutes ticked away. While the city passed by them, Kat tried to remember how many times they had seen Stephanie’s nieces. “Van, when was the last time we saw Chelsea?”

  He spoke without looking at her. “I think the last time it was spring. She was in that play at school Stephanie invited us to.”

  As they drove, Kat thought the ride to Stephanie’s house was both the longest she had ever felt and the shortest, even though it only took a few minutes. Her mind kept flashing images of Chelsea and her sisters. It wasn’t that they had spent a lot of time together. It was just that it was Stephanie. Stephanie was family. Kat reached for Van’s hand, “What are you thinking?”

  “That I’m happy to do this for Stephanie, but I’d honestly rather go get a root canal.”

  Van’s honesty made Kat smile. She was feeling the same way. The truck bumped over the curb and onto Stephanie’s driveway. She walked to the truck without either of them getting out. She must have been watching for them. “Want me to ride in the back?” Kat said as Stephanie opened the back door.

  “No. I’m fine back here.”

  Kat glanced at the backseat as Stephanie got settled. Her mane of curly hair was pulled back away from her face in a low ponytail, the curls brushing at the edges of her forehead. She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes. The tip of her nose was red. At any other time, Kat would guess she had allergies or maybe the start of a cold. She wished that were the case, but it just wasn’t true. “Have you heard anything since we talked a couple of hours ago? Things can change so quickly when an investigation ramps up.”

  “Other than Chelsea and her boyfriend are gone? No.” Stephanie looked down at her lap, clenching her hands together. “I appreciate you guys taking me. It’s just too much for Mary right now.”

  “We’re happy to help,” Van said. “Anything you need.”

  “What I need are answers.”

  Another question tumbled out of Kat’s mouth before she had a chance to hold it back. “Have you heard anything from Daniel’s family?”

  Stephanie shook her head. “I think Mary got a text from them, but that’s all.”

  The Sauk Valley Medical Examiner’s Office was housed in a squat brick building that was located on the same acreage as the rest of the city offices. In a way, the location of the building made sense. City Hall, municipal services, the fire department — or at least one of the stations that served the community — were all lumped together on one campus. It probably made it easier for people who worked there to get their job done, or at least Kat liked to think that. Not that government was efficient anywhere, no matter where you lived.

  To get to the Medical Examiner’s office, Van drove between the main City Hall buildings and the fire department headquarters. Kat had been there before one time, following up on a story about the potential for a rise in gun violence in the area. The medical examiner at that time had been an older man who had already retired. Kat had never met the newest coroner. She had only gotten a glimpse of him at the scene yesterday.

  That she hadn’t met him made the entire experience even more unnerving. A knot formed in her throat. Kat swallowed, trying to push it down. Facing death was always tough, but watching Stephanie, normally so vibrant and energetic, suffer through this was excruciating. As Van parked the truck in front of the building, a sign noting the spot was for visitors to the medical examiner’s office, Kat pushed the truck door open. She walked towards the back of the truck a few steps, coming next to Stephanie. “You okay?”

  Stephanie slammed the door of the truck shut, “No.” She pursed her thin lips together. Kat took that as a sign to keep moving and stop talking.

  Van opened the door to the building, ushering the women inside. Kat stopped with Stephanie just over the threshold of the door, her eyes adjusting to the light. Off to her left, there were five chairs set up with coffee tables in between them. There were magazines on the tables, two boxes of tissue, and two lamps, their bulbs glowing. Kat imagined the person who arranged the room was trying to make it homey and welcoming. It didn’t work. The old, pale blue vinyl chairs looked like they had been in the same spots for the last forty years, probably from the time the building had been constructed. Kat shook her head, wondering why no one would bother to update an office, thinking it would make a painful experience a little more comfortable. She heard murmuring in the background and turned her head to the right. Van was at the sliding glass window, speaking to a young man. The window closed, its frosted glass protecting anyone from seeing what was going on in the offices behind. Van turned and walked back toward them. “They know we're here. He said to go take a seat and they’ll call us in a few minutes.”

  Before they had a chance to sit down and get settled, a large metal door opened at the back of the waiting area. “Stephanie Vincent?” The same young man that had been sitting at the reception desk had come around and was calling for them.

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Come this way, please.”

  Stephanie waved to Van and Kat to follow. Kat was at the back of the line, the heavy door clicking behind her. Behind the reception area, there was a strange smell of air freshener and something else. Kat couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Maybe disinfectant?

  The young man that had called them back stopped for a moment in the hallway. “I’m Michael. I’m so sorry for your loss. Which one of you will be doing the identification?”

  “I will,” Stephanie said.

  “Thank you. Right this way.” The three of them followed Michael down the hallway, his tennis shoes making no noise on the shiny white linoleum floors. For a moment, Kat wondered how they kept things so clean, but then she realized that the coroner’s office probably didn’t see that much traffic each day. Michael looked like a younger version of the medical examiner Kat had seen at the park the day before. He was on the taller side, with dark hair and square glasses. For a moment, she wondered how he got interested in working for the coroner. At least there would always be business, she thought. As soon as the idea registered, she felt bad. She knew it was a coping mechanism, but still…

  “Dr. Murphy wanted to speak with you before we do the identification if you don’t mind.” They had stopped in front of a wooden door that had a long vertical window near the handle that was only about six inches wide. It was enough for someone to peek into the office without being wide open. Stephanie nodded.

  Michael knocked on the door and a voice answered, “Come in.” As Michael pushed the door open, he gave Kat a nod, “I’ll be right outside when you’re done
.”

  Dr. Murphy’s office didn’t look like it had been updated any more recently than the rest of the building. There was a desk in the middle of the floor with two chairs in front and bookcases along the back wall. It was typical of what Kat would expect of any office. There was nothing remotely personal about it. There were no knickknacks, no photos, nothing that would tell Kat anything more about Dr. Murphy than he was a medical examiner. She scanned the titles on the shelves. “Anatomy and Physiology,” “Tissue Degradation and the Elements,” “Mortality and Comorbidity in the Elderly,” were just a few of the titles she could see. That made her curious. Was Dr. Murphy someone who was only focused on his career or was he someone who simply compartmentalized his work away from the rest of his life? Kat pushed the thought aside, interrupted by his voice.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said, standing up from behind his desk. He reached a long arm over and shook each one of their hands. “Please sit,” he said pointing to the chairs. Kat and Stephanie sat down, Van stood behind them, off to the side. As she settled into the chair, Kat had a moment to look at Dr. Murphy. He was young, certainly younger than the previous medical examiner, but he looked like he had been working for quite a while. Dr. Murphy had dark brown hair that grew forward on his head leaving what looked like a little shelf over the top of his forehead. He had the same square glasses on that Michael, his assistant did, that accented tan skin, probably from being outside all summer long, maybe golfing or biking. Maybe he had a life outside of work after all.

  “First of all, let me say how sorry I am for your loss. I can’t imagine what you are going through.”

  The words sounded rehearsed, Kat realized. She wondered how many times in a week, or a month, or over a career that a medical examiner and his staff might repeat the same words. Although it was a nice gesture, it was little solace for what Stephanie and her family were going through.

  Stephanie dabbed at her eyes, “Thank you. Chelsea was special to us.”

  Dr. Murphy leaned forward over his desk opening a manila file. He sniffed, “The reason I asked Michael to bring you in here is because the circumstances around Chelsea’s death were suspicious.”

  “We already know that,” Van said.

  Dr. Murphy nodded. “Of course. Chelsea was an otherwise healthy eighteen-year-old, correct?”

  “Yes,” Stephanie said.

  There was something strange hanging in the air. Kat couldn’t figure out what it was, but her gut told her that Dr. Murphy was working his way up to something. “I’m sorry, is there something going on here? I just have this feeling that you are biding your time. If that’s the case, let’s get to it.”

  Dr. Murphy looked up from his file folder staring at Kat, his eyes looming behind the thick lenses of his glasses. He squinted slightly and then looked at Stephanie. “Your friend is very perceptive.”

  “She is. That’s why I brought her,” Stephanie said.

  Kat felt angry, the feeling she got when someone was trying to manipulate her. She drew in a sharp breath, ready to poke at the doctor again, but he didn’t give her a chance.

  “Yes, there is more to the story here. Chelsea’s death was unnatural.”

  “You mean she was murdered?” Van said.

  “Yes. But there’s more.” Dr. Murphy blinked for a second and paused. “Stephanie, is it true that Chelsea had a relationship with Daniel Arthur?”

  “Yes.”

  “As you may know, I can’t discuss other cases, however this one is so unusual that I can’t help but discuss Daniel’s case in the context of Chelsea’s.”

  Kat’s head was swimming. She was getting impatient. It was bad enough to have to go to the Medical Examiner’s Office and watch your friend suffer while identifying one of her favorite nieces, but this guy wasn’t getting to the point. She started to say something and then pressed her lips together, thinking twice.

  “We found Daniel’s body nearly the same time as Chelsea’s, however it had been outside longer,” Dr. Murphy said. “In examining both of them, it was apparent the same person took both of their lives.”

  “How do you know that?” Van asked.

  Dr. Murphy paused and then cleared his throat. “I’m not sure exactly how to say this in the most delicate way, but each of their left arms had been amputated and then reattached on the other person’s body.”

  “What?” Stephanie said, her voice breaking. “What are you saying?”

  Kat shook her head in disbelief, waiting for Dr. Murphy’s answer.

  “Whoever did this decided to swap their arms out. I don’t know any other way to say this. Now,” he put his hands up as if stopping all of them, “That’s the reason I asked you to come to my office first. When you see Chelsea, she has Daniel’s arm attached to her body. Likewise, Daniel has Chelsea’s arm attached to his body.”

  What Dr. Murphy was saying to the three of them was completely foreign. Kat and Van had both seen a lot in their lives covering stories both where they lived and in the Middle East. But to sever limbs and reattach them to someone else? That just didn’t make any sense. A wave of nausea flowed over Kat. She swallowed hard, not wanting to make a scene. She took a deep breath in, listening to what Dr. Murphy was saying.

  “One of the things we need to figure out is whether we keep the arms where they are for the burial process or whether we swap them out. If the two families can agree on what they want to be done, I will honor that. If the two families cannot, then I will make the decision myself as the Medical Examiner.”

  Stephanie, already pale from the news of losing Chelsea, was now nearly ghost white at the prospect of her severed arm. “I’m sorry. So, what you’re saying is some madman decided to swap their arms out and that’s what killed them?”

  Dr. Murphy nodded. “Yes. Based on my findings, the trauma of being kidnapped, put through surgery, and then the reattachment was difficult for their bodies to adapt to. Ultimately, gangrene and infection caused both of them to die. They both became septic.”

  “What does that mean exactly?” Stephanie said.

  “Reattaching a limb to a body is an exceedingly difficult procedure. It’s something that our finest doctors have only scratched the surface on handling. Nerves, muscle, and most importantly blood flow, has to be reestablished for the tissue to survive. In this case, there was a rudimentary attempt to attach veins and arteries, but it wasn’t enough to save the muscles and skin. As the tissue died, it sent toxins into the rest of the body, basically poisoning Chelsea and Daniel.”

  From the back of the room, Kat heard Van’s voice growl, “Okay. Let’s get on with the identification. I think that’s enough information for now.”

  Dr. Murphy nodded and stood up, “Yes. That’s fine. Come this way.”

  Dr. Murphy circled out from behind the back of his desk and opened the door. Michael was waiting there. Kat followed Stephanie and Van down the hallway. Van had his arm around Stephanie, helping her with each step. Kat trailed behind, feeling lightheaded. How she was feeling was of no consequence, she knew. Stephanie needed their help, and now more than ever.

  The group took a sharp turn to the right and ended up in front of two metal double doors. Dr. Murphy swiped a key card at the entrance and pushed the doors open. Inside, the bright lights of the autopsy room made Kat blink. There were two stainless steel tables clean and empty. Along the wall, there was a bank of instruments and lab equipment. She was sure that in a small city like Sauk Valley any complex lab results would be sent out, but it looked like Dr. Murphy could do basic testing right on site. To their left, there were sixteen small doors. Cold storage. Dr. Murphy pulled a set of blue latex gloves out of a holder on the wall and walked over to the second row of doors. He pulled open the one at eye level.

  There was a snap of a spring going back into place, much like the noise you’d hear in a restaurant when someone had walked in or out of a food locker. As the door swung back, Kat could see Chelsea’s hair. She felt a shiver run down her spine. The wheels of
the stainless-steel table inside the cold storage made a clattering sound as they rolled Chelsea’s body out. She was covered with a sheet. Very gently, Dr. Murphy and Michael worked together to fold the sheet down just below her neck. “Stephanie, could you please identify this body?”

  Van walked right behind Stephanie as she approached Chelsea’s body. Kat watched from a few steps behind, “Yes, that’s her.”

  “Thank you.” Dr. Murphy began to roll the sheet back over Chelsea’s face.

  “Wait,” Stephanie said. “I want to see the arm.”

  “You understand that Chelsea is not wearing any clothing. This might be upsetting to you.”

  “Show me the arm.”

  Dr. Murphy nodded to Michael and they carefully folded back the sheet down to Chelsea’s waist. The color of her skin had taken on a bluish-gray cast, except for her left arm. Severed at the shoulder, the arm was much larger in scale and darker than Chelsea’s own. There was even the hint of a tan line about the mid-upper arm, where maybe a t-shirt had blocked the sun from getting through to Daniel’s skin. The arm itself was purple and black. “Why is Daniel’s arm that color?” Stephanie asked.

  “As I mentioned, the transplanted arm became necrotic. That’s the color you are seeing. The arm died.”

  “And it was attached to my Chelsea’s body? It was attached to her while it died?” Stephanie started to sob.

  “Yes. I’m sorry to say that’s the case.”

  Kat felt a wave of nausea crash over her. The rush in her ears made it impossible to hear. She ran to the closest trashcan and bent over, retching. As she spit out the remainder of the bile in her mouth, she felt terrible. Not just because she had thrown up, but because she hadn’t been strong enough for Stephanie. She felt like it was the story of her life. She felt a warm hand on her back, “You okay?” It was Van.