“For a sex worker?” Rip asked.
Song pulled the drawer out a little and pointed to the girl’s hip and abdomen region. She pushed in on the skin there, her hip bones barely visible beneath the surface. “See all this puffiness here?”
“Yes,” Rip replied, rising onto his toes and peering down at what Song was pointing out.
Song leaned back, glancing at Kalani and back to Rip. “She was well into her third trimester of pregnancy.”
Silence fell for a moment as Kalani stared at Rip, her mouth hanging open a half inch. She blinked several times in silence, forcing the information into place. “Was there any sign of the fetus at the scene?”
“That I wouldn’t know,” Song said. “They brought the body here. But nobody mentioned it to me at all, and there was nothing visually, besides the cut on her stomach, to make them look for one.
“Every last bit of it, including the umbilical cord, has been removed.”
Chapter Ten
Kalani watched as the last bit of sunlight faded from the sky, her long hair whipping around her face as she drove. At half past six, the spring air was still well above seventy degrees, comfortable for driving without the plastic windows zipped into her Jeep. The evening traffic was just starting to abate, her drive in from Tripler a stop-and-go series that had made her five mile trip take almost half an hour.
Avoiding the H-1, she swung down towards the airport and followed the coast, hugging the shoreline as it wrapped around Kalihi and headed towards downtown. She kept the radio off as she drove, processing everything she’d learned, getting her mind used to handling an investigation again.
The passenger seat beside her was empty as she drove, Rip offering to make the trip with her but being told it wasn’t necessary. His involvement was allowed strictly as a favor from Tseng, celebrating that fact in front of him already might be pressing her luck.
Daylight faded from the sky as she drove, replaced by a row of red brake lights stretched out before her. Kalani propped an elbow on the window sill and leaned her head against the palm of her hand, thinking as she turned inland.
So far the sum total of what she knew was that a young girl, possibly a sex worker, was found dead at the capitol two nights earlier. Her throat was cut and the child she was carrying was taken. She was hoping Tseng could fill in a few blanks for her momentarily, but for the time being that was all she had.
More than the questions about the victim though was the handling of the case. The governor had called on the Chief of Police personally, demanding a private investigation. He had asked for her, a patrol cop several months removed, to handle it. There was to be no formal crime scene analysis, the autopsy was handled by an Army physician.
It was still far too early to begin speculating on the enormous holes in the case, Kalani instead filing away the questions in her mind. As she did so she pulled up on the curb outside the Honolulu Police Department and climbed out, feeding two quarters into the meter before turning to assess the building that for ten years had been her second home.
Constructed of solid concrete, it sat on an embankment fifteen feet above the street below, stretching a half block in length. Two stories tall, evenly spaced windows lined both levels, giving it more the appearance of an elementary school than a police precinct. A pair of cruisers were parked on the street and a small handful of lights were on inside, but otherwise the place was quiet.
A slow breath pushed out of Kalani’s mouth as she walked up the dozen steps to the front door and stepped inside.
From where she stood, little had changed in the previous months. The overdone Christmas decorations were gone, and the wanted posters on the wall bore different faces, but otherwise the place was exactly as she remembered.
The first floor stretched out in either direction away from her, a series of desks and offices. Stacks of files and loose papers covered every surface, the resulting effect of a staff that was always undermanned and overworked.
A pair of detectives stood in conversation at the far end, both in shirtsleeves and loosened ties, coffee in hand. Kalani recognized them right off as Baggs and Kitagawa, partners that had come up together on the Pearl City beat and been working as detectives for a handful of years.
Kalani dropped her gaze to the floor and ascended the stairs before her, careful to avoid eye contact.
They were good cops, and good guys, but she wasn’t up to the forced conversation that would come with saying hello. After just a single day she could already tell she wasn’t quite ready to be going through the motions again. There was no telling what a bunch of questions about her stability and condolences for her lost partner would do.
Taking the stairs two at a time, Kalani emerged on the second floor and hooked a right. She walked past two lifeless offices before coming up on her target, the wordsWalter Tseng – Chief of Police stenciled in gold on the plate glass window. Once more she paused and drew in a deep breath before tapping on the door with the back of her hand and stepping inside.
Tseng looked up from behind his desk as she entered, the bags under his eyes even more pronounced than the day before. It was readily apparent that he had slept little since leaving her house, a fact accentuated by his rumpled dress shirt and crooked tie. He dropped the pencil he was using down atop a stack of papers as she entered, leaning back and running his hands over his face.
“Christ, is it seven o’clock already?” Tseng asked.
Kalani fought the urge to look down at her phone, knowing that she was no more than a couple minutes early. She stood just inside the door, gripping the strap on her bag, and said, “I can wait if this is a bad time.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Tseng said, pulling his hands away from his face and slapping them down on the arms of his chair. “Just that the day sure got away from me. Please, sit.”
With a nod, Kalani stepped over in front of the desk and settled herself into a leather chair, the aged seat letting out a wheeze of air as she did so. She pulled the bag from her shoulder and glanced around, taking quick inventory of her surroundings.
The space was smaller than she remembered, a fact emphasized by stacks of boxes piled along the walls. Bookcases covered three sides of the room, many of the shelves lined with ancient law volumes. Those that weren’t held various photos and accomplishments from Tseng’s life on the force stretching back over two decades.
“Was Dr. Song helpful?”
“She was,” Kalani said without going into the bag for her notes. She’d gone over the conversation enough times in her head to know everything she’d written verbatim. “The young woman was killed by blood loss from having her throat cut, which I’m sure you knew from examining the scene.”
“I figured,” Tseng agreed, “but without any blood on-site, it was tough to be certain. What about the cut across her stomach?”
“She was pregnant,” Kalani replied, watching as Tseng’s eyes bulged. “No sign of the fetus, or even the umbilical cord, anywhere.”
Tseng pushed a low, shrill whistle out between his teeth, but remained silent.
“The girl also had scarring around her vagina consistent with someone that was, or at least had been, active in sex trade.”
“Good Lord,” Tseng said, shaking his head.
“And she had gonorrhea,” Kalani added. “No sign of defensive wounds anywhere.”
Tseng paused a moment to make sure the report was finished before glancing down at his desk. He closed the file sitting open before him and pushed it to the side, his movements slow and deliberate. Twisting his chair a few inches to the left he dug into the bottom drawer of his desk and withdrew a thin blue file, dropping it down where the other had been.
“I ran the girl’s prints through AFIS and found her name to be Lauren Mann. We picked her up eighteen months ago for possession and public intoxication in Makiki. Definitely nothing in the system about her being in the sex business.”
Kalani nodded, making a note of the name. “Local?”
“We have an address from the arrest, an apartment off Ward. You can take a look there in the morning, but I doubt you find much.”
“Transient housing,” Kalani said, nodding in agreement at Tseng’s assessment. She’d seen the type enough times to know that girls involved with selling and abusing their bodies rarely stayed anywhere for very long. “Any next of kin?”
“None listed, but you might strike gold when you pay them a visit.”
Tseng slid the file across the desk to Kalani, nothing more than a single sheet of paper with Mann’s photo clipped to it. Kalani studied them both a moment before glancing up at Tseng. “Can I keep this?”
“Sure, but be judicious who you show it to. Governor’s called over twice today wanting to know where we’re at with this.”
Kalani’s eyes narrowed, her head rotating up at the neck to look at Tseng. “You’re kidding me. He realizes these things take time, right?”
A heavy snort jerked Tseng’s head back, followed by twisting it at the neck. “You don’t know the half of it. Last night some sicko abducted four kids, jerked every last one of their teeth out, then deposited them back in the same park they were last seen in eight hours later.”
Surprise and confusion fought for top billing on Kalani’s face as she shook her head from side to side. “What?”
“Damnedest thing I ever saw,” Tseng said, leaning back and raising his palms towards her. “Except for a few bruises and their teeth missing, all four boys were fine. No sexual assault, no physical abuse, nothing.”
Kalani left the expression on her face. “That’s...crazy. And the governor’s on you about that now too?”
“Oh, yeah,” Tseng said, an oversized nod tacked on for emphasis. “It’s bad.”
“I bet,” Kalani mumbled, returning her attention back to the file before her. She sensed that Tseng was telling her his time was in short supply, flitting her gaze over the page to determine if there was anything else she needed before taking off. “Thanks for this, I’ll keep you posted on everything I find.”
“Please do,” Tseng said. “I’ll give you all the support I can from here, but it’s a little crazy right now.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Kalani asked, returning her gaze to Tseng.
“Yeah. Find whoever did this, and fast.”
Chapter Eleven
The bag felt light in Danilo’s hand, a simple black felt sack with a cinch top. The bottom of it was bulged out to the size of an egg, the bulk inside it mashed into a misshapen orb. The top was pulled tight by a black string, the end of it wrapped through Danilo’s palm and around his index and middle fingers. As he walked he hefted it up and down, feeling the results of his efforts the night before.
The sack swung free by his side as he descended the stairs into the basement, brushing against his leg as he passed through the airlock door into the laboratory, his sandals slapping on the tile floor.
Danilo came to a stop on the edge of the room, overhead lights reflecting off the gleaming surfaces of the stainless steel implements inside. A new, distinctive scent permeated the air and twice he sniffed at it, trying to determine its origin, only to have a faint burning paw at the edge of his nostrils.
“Mr. Cruz, welcome, welcome!” Saiki called from across the lab. He was crouched behind a telescope on a far workstation, a pair of oversized glasses perched on the end of his nose. He kept his entire body leaned over the instrument a long moment before pushing himself upright and flipping off the scope, the corner of the room dropping a shade darker as the light retreated.
“What the hell is that smell?” Danilo asked, taking a step forward, the sack swinging free by his side.
A look of confusion passed over Saiki’s face for a moment, soon replaced by a broad smile. “Ah, yes, the smell. I keep forgetting that someone like yourself isn’t quite as attuned to the delicate scents of the laboratory.”
Danilo waited for the scientist to answer his question, and when no response came he motioned with his hand in a circular fashion.
“Oh! Sorry, the scent,” Saiki said, clasping his hands together in front of him. “That would be sulfuric acid.”
“Damn,” Danilo muttered, taking another step forward, noting the smell getting stronger the further into the room he went. “I’ve been around a fair bit of acid before, but it’s never smelled like that.”
“True,” Saiki said, “but have you ever smelled sulfuric acid on human flesh?”
Danilo’s jaw dropped open and instinctively he glanced down at his own exposed forearms and lower legs. Seeing nothing, he twisted his head at the neck, checking Saiki over.
“Oh no, not me,” Saiki said, shaking a hand at him. “The fetus you brought me two nights ago. The entire sample was tainted, so I was forced to dispose of it.”
“Dispose?” Danilo asked, his eyebrows rising a bit.
“Yes,” Saiki said, motioning over his shoulder to a waist high cylindrical tub in the corner. “Far easier than incineration. Just drop the unwanted tissue into the tub, pour in some acid, and let it do its job.”
The tiniest bit of revulsion kicked up in the pit of Danilo’s stomach. While he had a healthy amount of respect for Saiki and the role he was meant to play, the man’s complete disregard for basic humanity was beyond appalling.
Even as Danilo held the bag in his right hand, what the doctor had done was far beyond something even he could manage.
“What about burial?” Danilo asked.
Saiki dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand, chuckling as if Danilo had made a joke. “Why bother? This way is faster, more effective.”
Again Danilo pushed down the feeling in the pit of his stomach, even biting back the urge to punch Saiki where he stood. Perhaps if the man had been the one to track down the girl and remove the fetus from her, he’d be less cavalier about disposing of it.
“How was the sample tainted?” Danilo asked, pushing ahead.
“Venereal disease,” Saiki said, shaking his head. “So many young mothers fail to realize how their sins affect posterity. Most of the time, it is a minor inconvenience, something correctable through antibiotics or a few well-placed treatments. For what we’re doing here though, like I said, it renders the entire batch useless.”
“Hmm,” Danilo grunted, already sensing where this was headed next.
“Naturally, this means I will need another specimen, if you’d be so kind,” Saiki said, bowing his head in faux gratitude, his hands behind his back.
Once more Danilo fought back the urge to lash out, waiting as the venom receded while drawing in a heavy breath between his teeth. “Have you run this by Zall yet?”
“I spoke to our generous benefactor just this evening,” Saiki replied. “He said he would be returning from the mainland shortly and asked that you find a replacement as soon as possible.”
“Hmm,” Danilo said again, nodding his head. He already knew when their employer was supposed to be back, if not for their recent divergent path he would have been on the trip alongside him.
“I also explained to him that there was no way you could have known that the woman carried such a malady. He said he will happily cover whatever expenses you having in procuring a new specimen.”
Again Danilo nodded. The money was not at all what he was concerned with, though his true motivations were not something he was about to discuss with Saiki. “Any word on what to do with the mother? Do we want another public display?”
“That I don’t know,” Saiki said, twisting his head to the side. “You’ll have to take it up with him.”
Several retorts came to mind for Danilo, ranging from smartass comments to outright unease, but he swallowed them down. There was no point in taking out his animosity on Saiki, the man was nothing more than a lab rat performing his job.
More than that, he was a loyal employee and anything Danilo said would most certainly be reported back up the ladder.
“I got what you asked for,” Danilo said, ho
lding the bag out at arm’s length, the weighted bottom swinging back and forth beneath his fist.
It took a moment for realization to set in before Saiki’s face split into joyous surprise, his cupped hands extending out in front of him. “Oh my, such a large batch! How many do you think are in here?”
Danilo watched the childlike wonder on the doctor’s face, his own visage twisting into a scowl. “Four boys. They were all missing at least a couple, but I took every tooth they had.”
“Ages?” Saiki asked, bringing his hands up beneath the bag and squeezing it with his fingers.
“Two of them were very young, no more than five,” Danilo said, disgust thick in his voice. “The other two were a bit older, maybe seven or so.”
“So at least sixty-four teeth,” Saiki said, “maybe as many as seventy.”
Danilo released the bag into the doctor’s hand, happy to be free of its weight. “Maybe as many as seventy?”
Saiki accepted the pouch, its heft dropping his hands an inch. He weighed it up and down twice before cupping the bag in his right hand and using his left to pry open the top of the bag.
Inside was a twisted mass of teeth, their colors split almost in two. The top portion shined ivory white, free of stains or imperfections. The bottoms ran the gamut from faint pink to dark red, thin bands that were the result of years spent imbedded in the dentin of their prior owners.
“Human beings have sixteen baby teeth, thirty-two permanent teeth. Based on their ages you got at least sixty-four from them, probably a handful more adult teeth as well. So, somewhere between sixty-four and seventy total.”
“But again, they were all missing at least a few,” Danilo said, nodding as further repulsion set in. For a moment he stood and thought back on the night before, taking the young boys to his workshop and diligently removing each tooth, using needle-nose pliers to pry them out of their mouths.
Halfway through the image of doing the same to Saiki entered his mind, the thought of ripping the man’s teeth from his head with great malice almost bringing a smile to his face.
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