“What’s what?” Leigh asked.
Bracing his hands on his knees, he leaned over. “There’s something under the body.”
“Debris?” Bree asked.
“No, it’s . . . fleshy. Charred flesh, but definitely muscle tissue.”
“Disarticulation?” Kiko asked. She moved to the other side of the body for a better view. “You mean partially tucked under the wardrobe?”
“Yeah.”
Kiko squinted at it. “I see it. I don’t think that’s from our vic.” She glanced up at Matt, the corners of her eyes creased in concern. “You’re thinking a second body.”
“Too small for an adult. It could be a child, or, worse, a baby.”
Kiko winced and lost a bit more color.
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough. When the morgue techs get here, the first thing we’ll do is move the wardrobe and transfer the victim to a body bag. That will give us a clear view of what’s underneath. And then the real work begins.”
“Oh yeah,” Paul said. “And that’s going to take hours.”
“Why will it take hours after the body is secured?” Leigh asked.
“Because that’s only part of the remains.” Matt sidled out of the debris. “I can already see we’re missing both hands, one forearm, and some of the skull. We won’t know if the feet are intact until we move the wardrobe. Those missing bones didn’t burn away, they’re simply scattered around the body where they fell when the tissue was incinerated. But before we release the site, we need to find every piece of bone and tissue we can. And that means searching and sifting.” Matt turned to Bree. “We’re going to need artificial lighting brought in. Otherwise, once we lose the sun, we’ll be working blind.”
“We have portable lights and generators. I’ll make sure you have what you need.”
“Thanks.”
“We’ll have to do an examination to establish cause of death. Do you have any idea how the fire started?” Leigh asked Bree.
“Not yet.” Bree turned to face a large pile of debris. “But this is definitely the point of origin.”
Leigh scanned the debris and what was left of the walls around it but didn’t see anything in the charred materials that set this area apart from the rest of the store. “You’re sure? The back of the building is in even worse shape. You said that the longer the fire burns, the hotter it gets and the more damage is done.”
“True, but you’re not accounting for the fire load—the amount of flammable material in an area. The showroom was full of wood, fabric, foam cushions, and carpet. But the workroom was full of stain, lacquer, varnish, and paint thinner.” Stepping a few feet to her right, she plucked a can from the rubble. The lid was gone and the upper edges of the can blossomed outwards in razor-sharp petals.
Paul whistled sharply. “That can essentially became a bomb. What’s it made out of—stainless steel?”
“That would be my guess. The heat of the fire caused the contents to reach their flashpoint—the temperature where a flammable liquid will ignite. But trapped inside the can, the chemicals essentially became explosive from the pressure buildup. Projectiles like this ripped away at the walls in the back area, further weakening the structure. And then there’s the dumpster.”
Matt peered over Bree’s shoulder. Outside, behind what was left of the wall, a large metal dumpster smoldered. “What was in that?”
“Pretty much everything that shouldn’t be,” Bree said in disgust. “Discarded cans, dirty rags, scraps of wood. When it went up, it just added to the fire load on that back wall.”
“So add all that together,” Matt said, “and you’ve got an accelerated fire, but not necessarily the point of origin.”
“That’s exactly my thinking. You have to realize how flames move in a fire—up and out, just like the smoke and gases that are produced. So a fire on the floor may have a very small ignition point, but from there, the smoke and heat will rise up and out, creating a V pattern.”
“And you can see that pattern in this room?” Leigh stood with her hands on her hips, scanning the area around them. “I’m totally missing it.”
“That’s because the key here is that part of the pattern is missing. When these buildings were built in the nineteenth century, typical construction involved lath and plaster for the inside walls. Look right there—” Bree pointed to a section on the wall, where the plaster had crumbled away to reveal scorched studs and strips of lath. “—and you can see part of the V.” She held up her hands, the heels pressed together, palms spread in a V shape and examined the wall through them. She pointed to the outside edge of the shape. “As we move out from the rough centerline of the V, more and more lath remains.”
“There’s a void on one side,” Matt said, studying the area critically. “Could there have been something else there? Something else that deflected the flames, or burned and has now collapsed?” He critically studied the piles of debris in front of that section of wall. “Hold on. The wardrobe. It was standing against that wall.”
“That’s my guess, and I’ll confirm it with the owner, if this isn’t him or her. If so, then part of the V pattern is on one side of the wardrobe, but, as it burned, it became unsteady and toppled over, either during the fire, or when we extinguished it.”
“Is it definitely arson?” Juka asked.
“It’s too soon to be definitive. But I can tell you this from past experience—when a fire starts accidentally, if someone is in the room with it, they either try to put it out or run like hell. They don’t usually stand there and let themselves burn to death.”
“But when someone is already dead or unconscious and a fire is set to hide the evidence and the identity of the victim, you’d want that victim as close to the fire as possible,” Leigh said.
“Right. Once the body’s removed, I’ll be doing my own investigation of the site looking specifically for an incendiary device. Are you ready for me to send in the crime scene guys? They did initial pictures with Rowe, but they’ll want to shoot more while you remove the body and do your search.”
Matt glanced at his students—they were ready. “Let’s get started.”
Sunday, 7:17 p.m.
Wharf Street
Salem, Massachusetts
Matt slammed the door on the coroner’s van and gave it two sharp raps with his fist. The van pulled away into the darkening evening and disappeared around the corner as it left the wharf and headed back to Boston.
He made quick work of shedding his Tyvek jumpsuit, rolling it up inside out and jamming it in a nearby trash can. He tugged at the neck of his T-shirt, trying to separate the material from his sweaty skin. The fall breeze felt refreshingly cool against his overheated body after hours inside the steamy fire scene.
He walked over to where his students stood on the green space by the wharf, stripping out of their suits and chugging the water bottles Bree had provided. “Good work today, guys. We’ll pick this up again tomorrow at nine. I’ll call Rowe tonight when I get home, and we’ll decide where to go from here.”
“What about starting with an autopsy?” Paul suggested, grinning at Juka.
“Funny,” Matt said dryly. “Yes, a standard autopsy will be done, but I have something else in mind first. I’d like to do a 3D autopsy using the MRI facility at Mass Gen. We can reconstruct the body from the inside out before Rowe even picks up a scalpel. It will show bone damage as well as soft tissue damage in layered 3D. It might even show us the cause of death if the fire itself wasn’t responsible.”
Kiko whistled. “Sounds cool.”
“I’ve never done it myself, but I’ve seen papers on it. This would be the perfect time to try it out.”
“What about the dog?” Juka asked.
Matt thought of the tiny charred body they’d unearthed beneath the victim. He needed to actually examine the bones to confirm, but he was ninety-five percent certain it was a small dog. “Too pricey and time consuming to use on the dog. We’ll necropsy it the old-fashioned way.
I don’t know if it’s a clue or collateral damage, but either way, it’s evidence.”
“Too bad there wasn’t a tag,” Paul commented. “That might have given us victim ID.”
“We’re never that lucky,” Matt said dryly. “Now, everybody got a ride home?” There were nods all around in response. “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He swung his bag onto his shoulder and started down the street, past the last engine still on site and around the corner. Leigh’s midnight-blue Crown Victoria sat at the curb halfway down the street. Her car was draped in long shadows between the streetlights, so he didn’t see the top half of Leigh’s body hidden inside the car until he was almost beside her. He lowered his bag silently to the concrete as she backed out of the passenger side and slammed the door.
She let out a gasp of surprise when his hands landed firmly on her hips, spinning her to press her back against her vehicle. He stepped into her, trapping her between cool metal and warm skin.
“Matt!” Her hands slapped against his chest. “What are you doing?”
“Huddling over charred remains wasn’t exactly how I envisioned our date ending. I’m trying to recoup some of our day.” He moved closer.
She pushed back against him, and he allowed her an inch of space. “I’m filthy. I’m covered with soot and God knows what else. And I’m sweaty.”
He grinned at her, thinking that the dark smear along her cheek was an endearing testament to hours of hot, miserable work. “So what? I am too. It was a hundred degrees inside that scene and a steam bath to boot. Relax. You’re not going to make me dirtier than I already am. And my olfactory sense got blown out in there. If we smell sweaty, my nose won’t notice for at least another twelve hours.”
Ignoring her halfhearted, spluttered protests, he leaned in, using his body to hold her still while he cupped her jaw in his hands, his fingers slipping gently under her hair. He brushed his lips over hers, feeling her still instantly. Her body remained frozen, her hands pressing against his chest for only a moment, then she relaxed into him, one hand sliding over the damp cotton of his T-shirt into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as her lips opened under his.
His fingers gripped her hips reflexively, holding her tighter, simultaneously reveling in the length of her pressed fully against him and cursing their lack of privacy on a public street—
“Matt, I forgot to ask. Did you want to meet at the lab or at the ME’s office . . .” Suddenly spotlighted in the warm glow of a streetlight, Kiko stammered to a halt as she came close enough to the couple tucked into the shadows to realize she was interrupting a private moment. “Wow. Sorry. Never mind, then. I’ll just touch base with you tomorrow morning. As you were.” With a wide grin, she spun and jogged off down the sidewalk.
Matt tipped his head down to rest his forehead against Leigh’s. A puff of air feathered over his lips as she let out a frustrated laugh. “Foiled again. We’re never going to get a moment alone at this rate.”
He tipped up her chin with a finger and pressed a soft kiss to her lips before he reluctantly released her and stepped back. “Not that this is the time or the place, but I just couldn’t help myself.”
“Typical man,” Leigh scoffed, but her eyes were smiling as she lightly ran her fingers down his forearm. “When are we going to try to make up that date?”
“When we’re on a case? Your guess is as good as mine. But I’ll make you a deal. The first evening we both have free, even if it’s just to steal a few hours at the end of the day, let’s do something, just the two of us.”
“Deal. You need a lift to your SUV?”
“Nah, it’s just a block away and I’m enjoying the cool air after all that heat and humidity. Give me a call tomorrow morning and I’ll let you know what Rowe and I decided. Have a good night.”
He gave her a gentle push toward the driver’s side door and then stood by as she started the car and waved through the windshield. He watched until her taillights disappeared from view around the corner.
After picking up his bag, he made his way into the deeper shadows of the night.
CHAPTER FOUR: VENTILATION
* * *
Ventilation: the operation of opening or removing windows and doors, and cutting holes in the highest points of the structure to clear smoke from a building.
Monday, 10:55 a.m.
Office of the Chief Medical Examiner
Boston, Massachusetts
Matt pushed through the door of the autopsy suite just as Leigh turned the corner at the end of the hallway. “Good timing. I was just going to call.”
Leigh glanced at her watch. “I thought we weren’t starting till eleven.”
“We aren’t. But Rowe’s champing at the bit to begin and I want to review the 3D autopsy results first.”
“It’s already done?”
“Rowe pulled a few strings after I called him last night. He knows someone in the radiology department at Mass Gen who arranged time for us on the scanner at six this morning. I owe the guy a bottle of Glenfiddich for sneaking us in so quickly and then doing the analysis right away.”
“Let’s take a look, then.” Leigh reached for the door handle, but Matt put a hand against the door, holding it closed. “What?”
“I just want to warn you. This is going to be unpleasant.”
She frowned. “Autopsies always are.”
“I know how much they bother you. But even with full ventilation, it’s bad.”
“I smelled the body yesterday.”
“You smelled the fire yesterday. This could put you off pork indefinitely. Just be prepared.”
Entering the autopsy suite, the smell of charred flesh assaulted Leigh. Her gorge rose and she swallowed hard to keep it down. Across the room, Kiko, Paul and Juka stood clustered together in a tight knot; none of them even glanced in the direction of the body lying on its side on the table. She forced herself to look, struck afresh with horror by the dark, crusty tissue, the contracted, curled limbs, arched spine, and charred, shattered skull. More pieces of the skull lay on a tray on a nearby countertop. The small, charred body of the dog lay on a tray on a second autopsy table.
Already gowned and gloved, Dr. Edward Rowe gave her a nod of greeting. “Good, we’re all here. Abbott, did Lowell explain what he’s showing us this morning?”
“I think I’ve got the gist of it—a virtual autopsy in three dimensions done by X-ray.”
Matt motioned Leigh and Rowe over to the counter that held his laptop, his students following. “That’s right. This procedure gives us the ability to look at a certain part of the body based on its ability to block X-rays. We’ll be able to see both soft tissue and bone damage in layered 3D.”
“Why did you go to all this trouble?” Leigh asked. “I mean, we’re doing a real autopsy anyway.”
“This actually provides more information than the real autopsy. Remember, the body is so badly damaged from the fire that simple things like gender and age are completely masked.”
“But I’ve seen you figure out age and sex from just the bones.”
“Sure, but these bones are so fragile, they could be destroyed when we strip them. The 3D autopsy gives such detailed information that I can virtually visualize the landmarks I need to make my estimates without ever physically handling the bones.”
Matt opened a series of windows and an image of the victim spread across his screen in tones of gray. The external form was clearly visible, depicting the exaggerated positioning and rough texturing of the burned tissue. “As you can see, the 3D recreation is very realistic. But from here we can go inside the body.” With a few clicks, Matt brought up the skeletal components of the body and zoomed in on the pelvis. “I had an hour or so with the scans this morning, so I can tell you from the skeletal structure of the pelvis and the intact section of the skull that our victim is female. From the pubic symphysis and the sternal end of the fourth rib, I’d place age between early forties and early fifties.”
Rowe whistled. “Now I see why you were pushing for this. I guarantee I’d never be able to get that close. Could you clearly visualize the bone trauma?”
“Yes.” Matt opened up a new window, a view of the skeletal torso. The blade of the knife was clearly visible as a solid white lance sliding between two ribs. “The blade enters between the fourth and fifth ribs, just to the left of the sternum piercing the left ventricle of the heart.” He pointed out the contact point and everyone leaned in, squinting. “But if you pull back and look at the rib cage, minus the knife—” Click. Another window. “—you can see that this wasn’t the only knife strike.
“There’s a break in the shaft of the third rib, and the ends of ribs two and three show nicks near the sternum. And this furrow?” Matt pointed to a jagged mark on the surface of the sternum, mid-chest. “That’s where the knife tip skidded across the surface before penetrating the chest wall. It looks like three knife strikes before the final blow where the knife was planted. Of the four blows, at least three of them pierced the heart.” Another view, this time showing the internal tissues. “And if you look here and here, those are tissue infiltrates. Blood clots, basically.”
“So the vic was alive when she was stabbed,” Leigh stated. “But was she alive when the fire started?”
“That would depend on the lag time between the knifing and the fire,” Rowe said. “With the heart pierced, she would have bled out within two minutes, tops. But if the victim was alive and breathing at the time of the fire, the heat would have seared the tissues in the nose and throat, and the smoke will have left visible traces of soot in the airway and lungs. If those tissues are clear, then that knife is your murder weapon.”
A Flame in the Wind of Death Page 4