Lethal Legacy

by Louise Hendricksen

  “No. The person responsible made sure of that. I did find three good fingerprints. Maybe they’ll tell us something.”

  “How long has she been dead?”

  Amy regarded him with a half smile. “Are you sure you want to discuss this while you’re eating?”

  Jed laughed and spooned Kung Pao shrimp onto his plate. “Maybe not.”

  When the kettle on the stove began to whistle, he jumped up, filled the teapot, and set it on a wrought iron trivet beside her. When he’d stood silently at her side for some moments, she glanced up to find him gazing down at her with a soft expression. “God, you smell good.”

  Damn, she didn’t need this. “Is that a friend-to-friend remark or … what?”

  He brushed this knuckle along her cheek. “What if it was a let’s-get-friendlier remark?”

  “I’d say you’d better sit down and eat your dinner,”

  “I was afraid of that” He walked back around the table and sat down. “Okay, what about those Asians who work at the athletic club?”

  “My friend Hue says that one of them, Victor Samphan, likes to gamble.”

  “Hmm.” Jed sipped his wine. “I wonder if he owes some of our suspects money?”

  “Interesting thought.” Amy dunked boneless chicken into black bean sauce. “I think he may be the one who was following me.”

  Jed set down the wine bottle he’d lifted to refill his glass and regarded her with concern. “You didn’t tell me someone was following you.”

  She shrugged and served herself some Chinese greens. “I was also attacked in the athletic club basement.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Amy,” Jed exclaimed, his eyes blazing. “Do you think you have to take all these risks?”

  “Things happen, Jed.”

  He raised his glass. “Yeah, to you they do. All the time.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Lighten up, Jed. He’s not likely to try it again.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Cause he found out I’m not easy prey.” She lay her hand over his. “But thank you for caring.”

  He clasped her hand in both of his. “I think about you.” His brows knotted and he scowled down at the table. “I don’t want to, but I do.” He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I can’t help wondering what it would be like to,”

  “Hold it, Jed.” She pulled her hand free. “You said you needed a friend.”

  “I know, but,”

  “No buts. That’s all I’ll ever be.”

  “Because you’re going to be true to the bastard who got you pregnant and married another woman? Is that it?”

  Heat flared in her cheeks. “He doesn’t know.”

  His eyes widened. “Doesn’t know? What are you going to say when he finds out?”

  She leaned forward, her eyes boring into his. “He isn’t going to find out.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not ever. Is that clear, Jed?”

  “Amy.” He ran his hand over his face. “A woman in your condition shouldn’t be alone, doesn’t need to be alone. Yet you’ve chosen to isolate yourself. What made you decide to have the babies in the first place?”

  Amy’s throat tightened and her voice was low when she spoke. “Because it’s better to have a flesh and blood reminder than nothing at all.”

  “You loved him that much?”

  She lifted her chin. “Love him,” she corrected.

  “Then he’s a lucky bastard, even if he doesn’t know it.”

  She started to reply, but her lip began to tremble.

  Jed got up and walked around the table. “Come here.” He raised her to her feet and put his arms around her. “If you ever need a hug, I’m here for you.”

  Amy felt the twins move inside her and she let out a soft “Ohh.”

  Jed drew away from her, his eyes wide. “Was that what I think it was?”

  “They get kind of lively at times.”

  Jed smiled and eyed her stomach. “Okay, kids, I’ll try not to encroach on your papa’s territory.” His eyes lingered on her face. “But I can’t promise. Your Mom is just too damn sweet and lovely.”

  21

  Amy wheeled the gurney from the morgue at 5:00 a.m. She shot photographs of the body clothed and naked, then weighed and measured her. The woman had a small frame, weighed ninety-two pounds, and was fifty-six inches tall.

  Donning a lead apron, Amy took several x-rays. After putting the film in the processor, she returned to the body. Both of the woman’s hands were tightly clenched. With some difficulty, she straightened the fingers of the right hand. Inside, she found a triangular scrap of royal blue fabric with a white shirt button attached.

  After stowing the material in an evidence bag, she assembled the equipment she’d need for fingerprinting. The victim’s skin, wrinkled from having been immersed in water for so long, would make the procedure difficult. Nevertheless, she was grateful the cold temperature of the river had kept the tissues in a helpful state of preservation.

  When several methods she tried didn’t achieve satisfactory results, she injected silicone to round out the finger pads and took photographs. Then she inked the woman’s fingers, and as she pressed down each finger, she prayed the woman’s prints would be on file somewhere.

  Dr. Epps and her father entered through the back door as she finished the task.

  “Morning, Amy,” Dr. Epps greeted her, then went to study the corpse.

  B.J. ambled over to where Amy stood and read her notes as she recorded the work she’d done in the log sheet. “Why didn’t you stay in bed? You wore yourself out yesterday.”

  “Today’s post will be a lengthy one. Dad. I wanted to get the prelims out of the way.”

  “Did you hang her clothing to dry?”

  “Yes.”

  Clearing his throat, he gazed at the ceiling and rocked from his heels to his toes. “So, did you, uh, have company last night?”

  Amy smiled to herself. The windows of his apartment overlooked the street the same as hers did. “Uh-huh.” She continued to write.

  He coughed and jingled the change in his pocket. “Thought the car looked kind of like the one that lawyer of Cam’s drove yesterday.”

  “Oh … really?”

  “Personable young man.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Seems quite taken with you.”

  “Possibly.”

  “You … could do worse you know.”

  “Perhaps.”

  She thought about mentioning Jed’s recent divorce, but knew it wouldn’t put an end to her father’s meddling.

  “Unfortunately I’m not interested.” She returned the log clipboard to its hook on the wall.

  “There are times when I wish you weren’t so damned independent”

  Amy grinned at him. “Then you wouldn’t have anyone to fight with,” she said, taking his arm. “Let’s go look at the X-rays.”

  Retrieving the dried films from the bin where the processor had deposited them, she carried them into the next room, and arranged them on the bank of fluorescent view boxes.

  Dr. Epps and B.J. gathered around her. “Look at the costochondral junctions.” Dr. Epps tapped the rib cage.

  “Yep,” B.J. said and walked down the line of view boxes, peering at the X-rays of the corpse’s arms and legs; “Notice the lower ends of the radius, ulna, tibia, and fibula.”

  Amy ranged back and forth. “Yes, she definitely has all the indications of childhood rickets, including the pigeon breast and the bowed leg bones. Must have given her some problems. Hospital records might be able to give us her identity.”

  “The woman’s had a lot of dental work,” B.J. said. “That’ll give us another resource.”

  Amy started past the pelvis X-ray, then turned back to scrutinize it more carefully. “She was pregnant.” Amy unconsciously pressed her hands over her abdomen.

  B.J. contemplated the film. “Jesus! The sheriff will probably see that as implicating Cam as well.”

  “A shame he’s involved in such a m
ess,” Dr. Epps said. “He seems like such a nice young man.” While pondering the skull X-ray, he absentmindedly clicked his ballpoint pen. “No sign of head trauma.” He proceeded to the chest X-ray. “Now here’s something. This heart shadow is certainly unusual.”

  B.J. peered over his shoulder. “Wen look at that.”

  “I wonder if,” Dr. Epps stepped aside so Amy could get a better view.

  “What’s bothering you?” she asked.

  He jerked his head toward the other room. “Let’s go look at the body. I noticed an odd contusion on her sternum.”

  Amy smiled at him. “I was hoping you would.” When B.J. and Dr. Epps had arranged themselves on each side of the gurney, she continued, “I tried several types of lighting when I took my closeup shots.” She pointed to slanted vertical lines of blanched epidermis two centimeters wide between four two-centimeter bands of contused flesh that ranged from four to six centimeters in length. “I wanted to make certain I captured the contrast.”

  B.J. cocked his head. “Doesn’t look like something she’d have gotten by hitting the steering wheel.”

  “I’ll check the car when I go to Wheeler today.”

  “For what purpose, Amy?” Dr. Epps took a small notebook from his jacket pocket

  “ I’ll put a piece of carbon paper between a couple of sheets of white paper and smack it against any object I suspect.” She nodded approvingly as he scribbled down what she’d said. “We might be able to determine what object corresponds to that particular contusion.”

  B.J. regarded Dr. Epps with what Amy called his teacher’s face. “See any defense injuries. Homer?”

  Dr. Epps studied the posterior and anterior of the corpse’s right arm, then switched to the left one. “Nope. Oops, wait.” He picked up each hand to check for broken nails. “None, B.J.”

  “What’s (hat tell you?”

  “She … uh…” He glanced at B.J. as if looking for a hint, but B.J. pretended to be more interested in examining the woman’s abdomen. “She didn’t fight back, so,” a smile wreathed Dr. Epps’s face, “she must have trusted her attacker.”

  “Your assessment would be correct,” Amy said. “If she was murdered. However, we haven’t proved that yet.”

  “Yes … Oh, of course. B.J. says I must never assume anything.”

  B.J. winked at Amy. “How’ll we know if she was dead before she went into me river?”

  Dr. Epps spoke up eagerly. “I boned up on this last night. If she died from drowning, the lungs and air passages will be filled and ballooned from the additional pressure. She’ll also have water in her stomach.”

  “Good, good, but don’t forget the diatoms,” B.J. said.

  “Oh, yes. There will be numerous microscopic unicellular marine or freshwater algae with siliceous cell walls,” Dr. Epps said as if he were reading from a text book. “Oh, and there may also be foreign matter such as sand and weeds in the lungs.”

  “Absolutely. If you find diatoms in the tissues. Homer, they can only have gotten there via the bloodstream. So the victim would have to have been alive when they went into the water.”

  “And there’s a procedure to test your prognosis. Doctor,” Amy said. “Dissolve a tissue sample of bone marrow or kidney in acid. If there are diatoms present, they can be seen under the microscope.” She laughed. “A good botanist can even tell you whether they’re from fresh water or salt water.”

  Moving closer to the gurney, she said, “While we’re in a learning mode, there’s another detail I’d like you to note.” She motioned to B.J. to help her turn the body over. “What do you two have to say about this?” Except for white patches on her shoulders, buttocks, and heels, the skin of the woman’s back was a dark purple color.

  “Aha,” B.J. said. “I see what you mean. Homer, can you remember what you learned in medical school about hypostasis?”

  “It’s been a long time.” He smoothed his hand over his thinning hair. “Something to do with gravity … Oh, of course, now I remember. Due to the pull of gravity, when the heart stops and circulation ceases, the blood settles in the lowest blood vessels.”

  “That’s right,” B.J. said. “For instance, if a person were to die from hanging, discoloration of the skin would appear in the lower legs and feet.”

  “Hmm.” Dr. Epps gazed at the pattern of discoloration on the corpse. “When we found the body, it was in a sitting position. If she had died … well, I’ll be damned,” he gestured at the body, “B.J., this is all wrong. The lividity should only be in her buttocks, feet, and legs.”

  B.J. clapped him on the back. “Give this man a gold star, Amy.” He smiled at Dr. Epps. “Would you like to make a hypothesis as to how this pattern of hypostasis might have come about?”

  “That’s an easy one. She was on her back for some time.” He grinned delightedly. “You reminded me that rigor mortis disappears after about thirty-six hours. So, perhaps,” he hesitated and gazed from B.J. to Amy, “Of course, I could be wrong, but perhaps her assailant waited until then to fasten her into the front seat of the car.”

  22

  Amy parked her car beside Jed’s in the lot beside Myra’s Café in downtown Wheeler. The previous night, when he’d learned she’d called Ivan Fenwick and asked him to set up a meeting with Victor Samphan and Kim Sen, Jed had insisted on going to the athletic club with her.

  She hurried into the restaurant and glanced around. Wicker baskets and photographs of blooming fields of tulips, lilies, and dahlias decorated the walls.

  At Jed’s hail, she ambled over and she seated herself across from him in a booth upholstered in white plastic. “Did you locate Cam?”

  “None of his friends have seen him. Have you found out the time of death on our Jane Doe?”

  “Not yet.” She ordered toast and coffee from a waitress clad in a red pinafore and frilly white apron. “When days or weeks have elapsed, determining the time of death can be a long process. My father and Dr. Epps may make tests on body fluids, the vitreous humor of the eye, electrical responses in the muscles, and the state of digestion of the stomach contents. And after all that, the time will still not be exact.”

  “Great. Just what I need to hear.”

  “We did learn one thing. The woman was pregnant.”

  Jed took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “This whole damned case is making me crazy.”

  Amy took a sip of coffee. “If I get through here early enough, I’ll have a friend run her fingerprints through AFIS. There might even be a missing-person bulletin out on her.”

  “With our luck, there won’t be.” Jed glanced at his watch. “What time’s the meeting?”

  “Kim at ten-thirty. Victor at eleven-thirty.” She finished a piece of toast and drank the last of her coffee. “It’s a three-block walk to Fenwick’s; we’d better get going.”

  He grimaced. “I hate exercise.”

  “It’s either that or risk having your brake line cut.”

  He groaned and followed her out of me restaurant. It soon became apparent that he wasn’t kidding about hating exercise. She strode; he sauntered.

  At last he caught hold of her hand to slow her down. “I dreamed about you last night. You should have been there.” He flashed a lopsided grin. “We had one hell of a good time.”

  She decided to ignore his remark. His attraction to her wouldn’t last long, she knew. Her mid-section seemed to be growing half an inch a day; soon she’d be as big as a house.

  She smiled at him and shook her head.

  He twisted his face into a comical leer. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll drag you behind a bush and have my way with you.”

  Amy laughed out loud. “Want to bet?” She held her coat open just far enough for him to glimpse her shoulder holster and the butt of her .38.

  “My God! Do you know how to use that thing?”

  “Definitely.” She sobered. “I called Sheriff Boyce to tell him about the meeting.”

  “What’d he say?”

&n
bsp; “That it was a stupid waste of time. Makes me wonder if he’s read the autopsy reports and investigation notes I’ve sent him. Have you talked to Wheeler’s district attorney?”

  “Actually, there isn’t one in residence. Chester Ingalls, the D.A. in Ursa Bay, serves a number of towns and hamlets in the county.”

  “Now I know how the sheriff gets away with so much.”

  Jed chuckled. “Charley’s no mental giant, that’s for sure. But he’s a member of one of Ursa Bay’s founding families and also related to Mayor Spalding, so he doesn’t have to be.” He grew thoughtful as they approached the steps leading into Fenwick’s Athletic Club. “You can’t ask these men very many questions.”

  “I know. Mostly I want to watch their reactions. If neither of them is guilty, perhaps I’ll learn something that’ll steer us in the right direction.”

  At the reception desk. Daphne gave Jed an appreciative appraisal before directing them both to Ivan Fenwick’s office. Fenwick and a tall, gaunt man in a dark blue suit rose to their feet as Amy preceded Jed into the room.

  “Good morning. Dr. Prescott,” Fenwick said with a toothy smile. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt similar to the one she’d seen him in the last time they’d met.

  She shook his hand. “Mr. Fenwick, I’d like you to meet Jed MacManus, Cam Nguyen’s attorney,”

  “Welcome to our club, Mr. MacManus.” His biceps bulged as he grasped Jed’s hand in an iron grip and held it until Jed glared at him and jerked his hand loose.

  Fenwick observed him disdainfully before turning to the man at his side. “I asked my lawyer to sit in. Dr. Prescott, Mr. MacManus,” he gestured to the man beside him, “Elliott Osgood.”

  Amy and Jed shook the man’s limp hand, said the proper amenities, and seated themselves on a brown tweed couch.

  Fenwick buzzed the front desk, asked Daphne to page Kim, and set down the receiver. “Would anyone care for a glass of fresh carrot juice?”

  “I just had breakfast,” Amy said.

  “Loaded with vitamin A,” he said, and honed in on Jed. “Sharpens your eyesight.”

  “No, thanks.” Jed removed his glasses and tucked them into his case.

  “You interested in lifting weights, MacManus?” His gaze shifted to Amy. “Women go for hard-bodied men. Don’t they Doctor?” Without giving her a chance to answer, he went on, “We’re offering a mid-winter special. Since you’re a friend of Dr. Prescott’s, I’ll even give you a discount on that.”