Amy finished chewing an antacid tablet. She’d been popping them like candy all afternoon. “Not a lot Kim Sen appears to be clean, though Victor Samphan is trouble. Evidently, some sort of conflict started between him and Mai when they were in school. He says Mai lied to Cam. That she claimed he was making passes at her when he wasn’t. Cam confronted him and Samphan beat him up.”
“Do you buy his story?”
“He’s full of hostility, that’s for sure.” She pressed her hand against her churning stomach. “The place where the Honda was pushed into the river is near Samphan’s home.”
Dr. Epps pulled a pen and notebook from his pocket. “How do you know?”
“The route to Samphan’s house runs along the river. The area is isolated, with little or no traffic, and it’s not too far from where the men found the car.”
He scribbled industriously. “How did you go about verifying the location?”
The incident in the woods flashed through her mind for the hundredth time. She flushed and concentrated on peeling a strip of clear nail polish from her thumbnail. “I compared the tire imprints I took in the woods to the tires of the Honda. Same rib and cross bar configuration. And many of the other characteristics matchup.” She raised her gaze to her father’s. “Have you had a chance to run the license numbers I gave you through the DMV?”
“Not the ones from the cars behind Kim’s rooming house. I’ll try to get to it tomorrow.” He levered himself out of his chair and dragged out his easel and oversized pad. “Let’s see what we know about our Jane Doe.”
Dr. Epps leafed through his notebook. “Female, brown eyes, black hair. Four-foot-eight-inches. Ninety-two pounds. Approximately twenty-five to thirty years old.”
“I called Mrs. Waring at Harborview,” Amy said. “She described Chea Le as pretty and petite with a sunny disposition. Other than that, she knew little about her. Neither did the other volunteers. What was the estimated time of death?”
“Ten to twelve days before we found her,” B.J. said.
Dr. Epps turned to Amy. “I did the test you suggested on some tissue from her kidney. Guess what? No diatoms.”
“Good, now we’re certain she was dead before she went into the river.” Amy recorded the fact in her own notebook.
“And under B.J.‘s guidance, I embedded hair samples in a block of resin and sliced cross-sections for microscopic exam.” Dr. Epps pressed his hands together. “Her hair was circular, with a thick cuticle with continuous medullae.” He swelled out his chest and smiled. “All characteristically Asian.”
Amy grinned. “At the rate you’re picking up forensics, you’ll soon replace me.”
His cheeks grew pink. “Never.” His eyes glinted. “But it’s been an exhilarating experience working with you and B.J.”
“We didn’t type her blood.” B.J. said somewhat impatiently.
“I’ll do it tomorrow and send it for a DNA,” Amy said. “Was that an appendectomy scar on her abdomen?”
“Yes,” B.J. said.
“How far along was her pregnancy?”
Dr. Epps regarded her with a direct gaze. “Three months.”
“We’ll need a DNA on the fetus too.”
“Did you get one on Cam?” B.J. asked.
“Yes, but we haven’t received any reports yet Dad, was she raped?”
“No evidence of it.”
“What was the cause of death?”
“Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen. Her chest cavity was full of blood.”
“An aneurysm?”
B.J. shook his head. “We found no weakening in the wall, no evidence of ballooning, but her aorta was ruptured.”
She nodded. “A fatal blow to the chest. I thought that might have been it.”
Dr. Epps frowned. “Is that possible?”
“She was a tiny woman. And you saw what was done to the gardener who got in the way.”
Dr. Epps continued to frown. “Did you check to see if something inside the car could have made that contusion?”
Amy emptied a large envelope onto the table. Each sheet had a labeled carbon mark. “You won’t find anything there that faintly resembles the contused area.”
Dr. Epps pored over the pieces of paper. “You’re right, but I still can’t believe anyone could rip open an aorta,”
“I know, I’d doubt it too if I hadn’t witnessed a similar blow to the chest” Amy tried to keep her thoughts off Nathan. She turned to her father, “Did you measure her legs?”
“Yep. With the car seat in that position, there’s no way she could have reached the brake or accelerator.”
Amy blew out her breath. “It’s going to be hard for Jed to sell all this to a jury.” She massaged an ache in her temples. “I didn’t get time to have her fingerprints run through APIS.” She stood up. “I’ll go over her clothing after I eat supper. Maybe I’ll find something that’ll help identify her.”
B.J. cleared his throat. “Did Jed meet you today?”
“Yes,” she said, then stood and turned away to avoid the questions about her personal life she knew would follow. “Good night. Dr. Epps. See you in the morning. Dad,” she said, excusing herself.
Upstairs, she went into her bedroom and fell across her bed. She hadn’t eaten anything for lunch and her hollow stomach let her know it, but she didn’t have the energy to move.
When the ringing of the phone awakened her, the room was pitch dark. “Go away,” she muttered, and rolled over. The phone continued to ring. It could be Cam, she thought. She still didn’t move. It might be Nathan. She sat up and grabbed the phone.
“Hi, babe,” Jed said. “Can I come over?”
Amy flopped onto a pillow. “What for?”
“Well, I was just lying here thinking.”
“Thinking about what?” Amy tried unsuccessfully to stifle her yawn.
“Dammit, you could at least pretend you’re interested.”
“Jed, what’s the point?” she said.
“I kissed your breast today and I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Jed, I like you, okay? But that’s the extent of it. Please don’t ever, ever mention this afternoon to me again. Good night.” She hung up.
Groaning, she got up, microwaved a TV dinner, and went down to the lab. After typing their unidentified female’s blood, she went over her clothing with a magnifying glass, a laser light, and ultraviolet rays. Nothing of interest showed up except a wide stain on the woman’s slacks and the tail of her blouse.
Amy moistened a corner of a clean piece of filter paper with Luminol and turned out the lights. As she touched the edge of the stain with the filter paper, the stain fluoresced, confirming her suspicion that the woman’s body fluids contained blood.
Further experiments provided little additional information. Prolonged immersion in water had diluted the fluid too much.
Microscopic examination of the fabric she’d found in the woman’s hand showed a mixture of cotton and polymer. She debated which procedures to use. The exact shape of the torn scrap had to be preserved for comparison with the garment from which it had been torn, if they were lucky enough to find it.
That meant she couldn’t do a chromatographic separation of the dye constituents. She frowned and swore. If she could show that the garment and the torn piece had the same dye composition, no one could dispute it However, a scanning electron photomicrograph of one of the polymer fibers would suffice.
Her lab work out of the way, she dialed Hue’s number. Raymond answered. After they’d greeted each other, she asked him if he knew Kim Sen.
“I’ve talked to him,” Raymond said.
“What do you know about him?”
“Nothing. He’s friendly, maybe too friendly.” He laughed. “Us guys aren’t sure which side of the fence he belongs on, if you get my meaning.”
“Yes, I wondered if he might be gay. Do you know if he has any relatives in Wheeler?”
“I know there’s another Sen in town, but I’ve never met
him.”
“What can you tell me about Victor Samphan?”
“Known him ever since we were little kids. Did you have a run-in with him?”
“Can you keep this confidential?”
“No problem.”
“One of the Asian employees at Fenwick’s may have had something to do with Mai’s murder.”
“So you’re investigating Victor and Kim?”
“That’s right.”
“What about the janitor?”
“Mr. Fenwick didn’t say anything about a janitor.”
“Most of the businesses in Wheeler use Hanuman Janitorial Service.”
“Spell that, please.” When she finished writing the name, she stared at it. “Hanuman. I’ve seen that name before somewhere recently.”
“Probably on that old gray junker they haul their equipment in.”
“That’s right. It was parked behind the rooming house where Kim lives. Does he own the business?”
“I don’t know, but it must be successful. The majority of the Asian businesses are clients.”
Amy jotted in her notebook. “Do you know anything about an ongoing feud between Mai and Victor? This would go back to their high school days.”
“I was a couple of years ahead of them in school,” Raymond said. “Hue would know. She just finished putting the kids to bed and she’s standing here,” he laughed and Amy heard the sound of him kissing Hue, “dying to know what beautiful lady is calling her husband.” He laughed again. “Here she is.”
“Hue, this is Amy.”
“Amy! My husband likes to tease me.”
Amy laughed.
“What can I do for you?” Hue said.
“Do you remember Mai having any trouble with Victor Samphan in high school?”
“He hassled all of us girls, especially the timid ones. One day a teacher saw Mai crying and Mai told her about Victor. The principal suspended him for a week.
“That may seem like a minor incident to some people, but to our old country parents, having a child sent home from school is a major, major disgrace. They feel it’s a reflection on how they’ve raised their child. They probably punished Victor severely.” She sighed and went on. “After he came back to school, he did some awful things to Mai.”
“Like what?”
Mai sighed. “I remember that once he dumped a pile of dog shit on her books. Also, he knew Mai loved animals, so he’d search for road kills and put them in her locker. He frequently wrote nasty things about her in the boys’ lavatory.”
“Victor says Mai told Cam that he was making passes at her, but he claims he wasn’t.”
“Hah! At dances and festivals, he’d slide up to her and describe the filthy things he was going to do to her. If he’d done it to me, I’d have socked him a good one. But poor Mai was afraid of him.”
“I found out he’s been arrested for spousal abuse too.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me. Una is a lot like Mai, intelligent but shy. She even went to college. Beats me why she married Victor.”
Amy thought of her own abusive marriage and cringed, “Thanks, Hue, you’ve been a big help.”
“Was that body they found the woman you were looking for?”
“We haven’t identified her yet.”
“But Raymond said the car was blue and a Japanese make. I thought for sure it was the one that hit Mr. Pran.”
“We found no registration papers or license plates. Not even an engine number.”
“Oh, Amy. If I had your job I wouldn’t sleep at night.”
“That’s another thing we’d better discuss. Hue. I think it would be best if you didn’t tell anyone you know me. Someone could try to hurt you or Raymond because of me.”
“Amy, you’re the one who is most likely to get hurt. You watch out for Victor, he can be mean, real mean.”
25
Amy sat hunched over the office computer, a cup of coffee perched on the small electric warmer close at hand. She’d finished typing the autopsy report and had started to update her investigation notes when her father walked in.
“Morning, kitten,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek. “What’s your plan for the day?”
“I thought I’d take the fingerprints from the body and the car to the police station and check them against the criminal records. I might also stop by the courthouse in Seattle.”
“If you get an address, try the reverse directory at the library.”
“Good suggestion.” She typed a few more words and then stopped. “I’ll also check those license numbers at the Department of Motor Vehicles.”
“We have anything else that’s hanging fire?”
“The piece of cloth I found in the dead woman’s hand is the same color blue as the Fenwick Athletic Club’s uniforms. Why don’t you ask Ivan Fenwick who furnishes their uniforms, and who does their laundry. If the fabrics are a match, someone’s walking around in a torn uniform, or has discarded one. Find out when Wheeler’s garbage is picked up and where it’s dumped.” She wrinkled her nose. “I sure hope we don’t have to go through a ton of garbage.”
“He could have buried it or burned it”
Amy smiled. “What I really hope is that it’s hanging in our suspect’s closet This case needs a break like that.”
“Dreamer. Did you get her blood typed?”
“Type A.”
“Fine. I’ll process that stain on the backseat of the car before I leave today.” He came up behind her and massaged her shoulder muscles. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, kitten. Let’s take some time off this evening and go out to dinner.”
“Sounds great to me.”
He walked off toward the laboratory door. Just before he reached it, he turned. “Why don’t you ask that young lawyer fellow to come along? I haven’t had a chance to talk to him.”
He closed the lab door behind him before she could accuse him of setting her up. Nevertheless, she soon had Jed on the line. “My father wants to know if you’d like to go to dinner with us tonight”
“I seldom go out with women who hang up on me.”
“Fine. I’ll stay home and you and Dad can discuss the case.”
“Do you have to be so goddamned stubborn?”
Amy let out a long breath. “Jed, I just want to be clear, I like you, we’re friends, but I’m not going to go to bed with you. So do you want to go to dinner, or not?”
“Where and what time?”
“The Cove at seven.”
“I’ll be there. You’re a cold, hard woman Amy.”
“Sometimes it’s easier that way.”
The wealthy citizens of Ursa Bay expected their police force to do their duties efficiently but quietly. With this “out of sight, out of mind” attitude, they’d relegated their police station to the basement of the courthouse.
When Amy walked in, the reception area was quiet except for the constant ringing of phones. She set down her briefcase and asked the officer behind the counter if Sergeant Greg Hatcher was in.
“He’s off today. Dr. Prescott,” the desk sergeant said. “Captain Morelli is in his office if you’d like to talk to him.”
“I hate to bother him. I just need someone to run some fingerprints and check on some licenses.”
The sergeant leaned across the counter. “Please go see him,” he said in a low voice. “He’s in a rotten mood. He always lightens up when you come around.”
Amy smiled good-naturedly. “Okay, if you say so.”
She walked down a wide corridor and knocked on the captain’s door.
“Come on in,” a voice called gruffly.
Amy opened the door and smiled. “You sure sound cheerful today.”
“Amy!” He leaped to his feet. “It’s good to see you.” He cleared a stack of bulletins off a chair. “Sit down. Tell me all you’ve been up to.”
Amy laughed out loud. “You sound a bit desperate.”
“You know what the Old Guard says, “There’s no crime in Ursa Bay.�
�� Well today, it happens to be true.”
“You’re lucky. In the last two weeks. Wheeler has had three homicides.”
“In that sleepy little burg?” He ran his hands over his graying, black curly hair, leaned back in his chair, and rested his well-shined black shoes on the desk. “Tell me an about it”
She gave him a condensed version of the investigation, but it still took thirty minutes to cover the story. “So now,” she said, “I have some license numbers and fingerprints I’d like you to check for me.”
“Sure thing,” he said, his dark eyes alight He got to his feet and pressed his palm against his flat stomach. “Got to do something or I’m going to get a potbelly like the cops on TV have.” He chuckled and held out his hand. “Give me your prints and I’ll see they’re expedited.”
She passed him the most recent prints plus the ones they’d gathered in the Nguyen house for comparison. After he’d allocated a man to the job, he checked the license numbers himself.
He rejoined her twenty minutes later with a computer printout. “I hope this is helpful.”
“So do I.” She scanned the sheet. The first two cars belonged to men who lived at the rooming house. “Hmm, this is interesting.”
The captain craned his neck to see the item she was pointing to. “He’s one of your suspects, isn’t he?”
“Yes, Victor Samphan works at the athletic club. But I didn’t know he owned the Hanuman Janitorial Service.”
“Is that important?”
“I don’t know.” She thanked Captain Morelli and hurried out to her car.
At the North Precinct in Seattle’s Public Safety Building, Amy ran into her old nemesis, Lt. Joseph Salgado. He squinted one of his melancholy basset eyes at her. “Please tell me you’re not investigating somebody in my territory.”
“I’m not sure. Lieutenant. We have a Jane Doe and are hoping to get a line on her I.D. I was hoping someone might have reported her missing.”
“What’s her name?”
“Chea Le. As you may know, two weeks ago Dr. Cam Nguyen’s wife was killed. The night of the murder, Cam says he was out with this Chea Le. But all the information we’ve gotten on the woman has proved to be phony. I don’t have a birth date, a social security number, nothing.” She shrugged and smiled. “Matter of fact, I’m not even sure that’s her real name.”
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