by Lilya Myers
The detectives held their place for the moment, not quite close enough to get a good view around the M.E. The smell was unmistakable. Joey pulled a jar of Vick’s out of his pocket and passed it to Russ. How does Kaise keep from losing it?
“How long you figure she’s been out here?”
Kaise stood up, snapped off his gloves, throwing them into a sack along with the instruments he’d been using. “I’d say it’s been about four or five days. She’s out of rigor and the body’s well into decomposition but I’ll give you a more definitive time frame once I get her into the shop for a diagnostic.”
They both ignored Kaise’s crude reference. They knew that his kind of humor helped to keep him sane. The detectives moved in closer. The body of what appeared to have once been a young, vibrant woman was reduced to a maze of trails for insects and animals. Kaiser was the only one with the strong stomach. Roma and Scenza had all they could do to keep theirs intact.
“Right off, I’d say she was between twenty-five and thirty-five. No I.D. Can’t tell yet whether the eyes were removed first before the sockets were torched…and whether or not she was still alive at the time. Preliminary looks like, so don’t quote me on it, that was the ultimate cause of death…Teeth are still intact…nipples were sliced off and laid over the eye sockets.”
“Dear God,” Russ said as he looked over at Kaise, “when you get back to the ranch, can you fax everything you’ve got over to my office ….”
“No problem. There’s one more thing. You’re gonna like this even less. Don’t know if she was raped, or at least with what…before, after…” There was so much dried blood and fluids and rotting flesh that, at first glance, her torso and genital area looked like one waxy and repugnant, grayish mixture that hadn’t congealed. “…but it looks like her genitals had been sliced, diced, and sent through a meat grinder. If she was raped and we can get a sample, it would be a miracle. All very precise though, from the looks of it. No amateur. Not his first time, I would say.”
The M.E. picked up his bag and tilted his head back enough so it wouldn’t throw off his equilibrium. “I’ll give you an unofficial cause of death. Right now I’d say that she was alive and possibly awake for most or possibly all of it… until the eyes. I’m all through here. Unless you need more time with her, I’ll have the guys bag her up.” It was really a question.
“Just give us a few minutes and then send them over. I really need a rush on this, Kaise. If this killer is on an expedition of some kind, it doesn’t seem like he’s going to give up the sport any time soon.” He didn’t comment further about the killer’s complexities.
“Nobody waiting in line since I left the shop, so I guess your gal’s first up. I’ll call you.” The M.E. walked off. His left leg had kind of a hitch in it. An old Nam injury he wouldn’t talk about. End of story.
Nothing Russ Roma had experienced in his career, or in life, had prepared him for this. Russ gave Joey a look that said he was about to lose his breakfast. Even Joey, known as the bad boy, yanked a do-rag from his jacket pocket to hold over his nose while he gagged. The pair wasted no time stepping back from the horror.
They stood a short distance away assessing the scene. This was as real as it was going to get. Up close and personal. Russ instantly thought of the kid who found her. Smitty, the officer who called Russ, was there when they drove up and had already pointed out the emergency vehicle where paramedics were still trying to keep the boy calm. Just for an instant, Russ wondered if Nina had gotten there before Smitty. Surely not.
Smitty. The kid. Russ and Joey looked back toward the body and the spot where the boy had tripped over it. The detectives’ heads came up in sync – reacting as if they had been programmed together. They were, sort of. They’d been best friends since they were kids, graduated from the academy together, and had worked side-by-side ever since.
In unison, they muttered, “Oh, shit.” Translated, that meant that the kid who found the vic was going to need some very serious therapy.
That was a thought shared by everyone at the scene. They only hoped the boy’s parents were the kind to understand that too. Of course mom and dad couldn’t pass the core perimeter to verify the story of their pre-teen kid, who they might think may or may not have been prone to embellishing stories in the past. Russ and Joey had seen too many parents who thought their kids were innocent of everything but capable of making up a grizzly horror scene because they watched too many barbaric movies. There was no part of this scene the kid could have made up. There was nothing that even closely resembled anything like it in any movie he’d ever seen. The hope was that the boy would get with a therapist in short order, or else they were going to have one messed up kid. God forbid someday, another Mutilator. That’s what they heard Nina, the reporter call him. Who knew what got into the mind of some people and twisted them enough to commit such savagery?
Joey stepped away to talk to another cop while Russ ruminated on the investigation. It was past one in the morning. Three things were for sure. The police had no leads, no ID, and no solid evidence that could point them in some direction. Any direction. The other was that Nina Talk-Too-Much finally went home. Small blessings on top of curses. They had plenty to sort through since the kid’s reaction had compromised the scene.
Joey and the cop assigned to the crime scene returned to where Russ was standing. Russ turned to the cop, and said, “Call me if anything comes up. Since there’s nothing more we can do here tonight, maybe we can get a quick shower and start early.”
Russ was frustrated, angry, and sick. His first big case and they had nothing. “No one comes in and no one comes out of here and the surrounding areas leading to any of the roads. I need everybody on site first thing – the minute we’ve got daylight. We’re going to walk a grid over every inch of these woods.”
CHAPTER 31
DETECTIVE SCENZA WAS talking to one of the CSI’s who was packing up while he waited for Russ to finish up on the phone. They didn’t have much to go on at this point when Russ yelled over to him. “Joey, come on, we’re going.” Russ and his partner left the scene in silence. Until he dropped Joey off, neither said a word. They were both absorbed by their own investigative thoughts. Exhaustion and frustration made for a toxic cocktail that promised them no peace that night. And a lot of nights to come.
Joey hesitated for a minute before getting out of the car when Russ pulled up to his house. Russ’s phone jangled just as Scenza let the door click shut. Roma put a hand up, signaling Scenza to wait. He leaned back into the window to rest both arms on the open frame.
“Roma.” It was the M.E. calling. This case was spawning hostility unnatural to Russ’s personality and he almost allowed it to spill over onto Kaise before he stopped himself. Roma listened for a moment, then said, “Hey, man. I really do appreciate it.” He ended the call and filled Joey in on the new information.
“First off, we got an unofficial ID. Found a security badge with the remains. Woman named Selena DeManta. Twenty-eight years old. She’s…she was a home care nurse. The only family she has listed in her employee file is a young child and an aunt. Husband was military, killed six months ago…”
“Damn. Single mom, recent widow. Kaise gave you all that information and it’s only what …” Joey flicked his wrist to look at his watch. “2:17am?”
Russ sighed with a pang of guilt.
“Yeah. To make a long story short, his niece works as a receptionist at the We Care Home Health and is friends with…was…never mind.”
“Yeah, too much information for tonight, Russ,” Joey said stifling a yawn. He opened the door of the unmarked and sat back down in the passenger seat. “Long story short, and?”
“Kaise happens to know the Director very well and got him out of bed to check the woman’s file. So, we believe she’s our vic. The time coincides. She was off for two days and that’s why it didn’t raise a red flag with anyone at work. Well, except for the receptionist, Janelle something.” He checked his notes. “Ja
nelle Nouveau. She and Ms. DeManta were friends…” Russ could see he was losing Joey. The rest could wait until morning anyway.
“Hey, Joey. Just this and then go get some shut eye.” Joey’s stamina wasn’t up to perk yet since he got shot. “Kaise says the woman didn’t bleed out in the woods. That sick…” He didn’t want to cuss again. “… killed her somewhere else. This changes things for tomorrow.” Russ began checking off the to-do list out loud. “Bassetti and Lanzo will supervise the search, Paulie and Danny talk to the aunt, and Angie can interview the vic’s co-workers. Selena had a long-term assignment with an old female patient. You and me are gonna pay her a visit in the morning.”
“Your gut, my gut, and Kaise’s gut all think this guy ain’t done?”
“Kaise’s gut doesn’t count. He’s a decent guy and all, he just needs to stick with poking and probing dead bodies. We’ll do the investigating. Otherwise, yeah, great minds think alike.”
Russ rubbed his hands over his face. “Nah. He’s far from done. Given what we just saw, I’d say he’s got his Masters and he’s working on his Ph.D., you know what I mean? And I seriously doubt that the vic was his lover, or even a pickup. I’ll bet ten dollars to a donut that she didn’t even know him at all. But he sure had one serious vendetta against her.”
Joey stifled another yawn. It had been an even a longer day for a man who had taken a bullet in the shoulder only two months before. “If you ask me, our perp is one twisted son-of-a-bitch. And I don’t think the perp chose her randomly either. So, he didn’t kill her there. There would have been a lot of blood around. The hunch is that he’s got a place nearby…but we’re not going to actively pursue a hunch without evidence to support it right?”
“Yeah, not actively, as they say. Leave the hunches for what little Miss Talks-Too-Much likes to put in her paper. We’ll be sure to keep her in the loop, of course.” Russ chuckled.
Joey pulled on the handle of the door and unfolded his long legs out of the car, grunting as he hoisted himself up. He closed the door and leaned back in the open window to say, “I’ll be ready at six, partner. See you in the morning.”
***
Russ tossed and turned until he finally fell into a fitful sleep. No sooner had he begun snoring his way into a deep slumber, than his phone rang at 5:30 a.m.. It was the watch commander. “Russ, how soon can you get down to the station?”
“I’m on my way.”
He hung up, and was out the door in minutes. Russ rang Joey as he pulled out of his garage. Joey answered on the third ring.
“The station called. I’m headed your way right now, sweetheart. No time to get dolled up for me.” He clicked off without waiting for a response and slipped the phone into his pocket with a grin. Like clockwork, Joey was outside waiting for him.
The station was buzzing with activity as the two detectives arrived. There was no mistaking that they had the muscle and the moxie to take whatever came their way.
Russ was just a hair over six foot two. He had a stride that exuded confidence and sexiness, all rolled into one. Every strand of his dark brown wavy hair fell naturally into place. Even in sweats and a ragged t-shirt, Russ could look as though he had just stepped off a shoot for GQ magazine. His emerald green eyes were disarming.
Joey Scenza topped out at a pinch over six foot, his legs making up a good deal of his height. Every inch of him was absolute iron and steel, making detective dress code uncomfortable. His department issued weapon found little comfort under his tailored suit jacket…steel on steel. Joey’s rugged, testosterone-fueled good looks contrasted Russ’s more sensitive facial features. His eyes evenly matched his almost-black hair. Those eyes could be warm and inviting, or turn dark and ruthless when faced with danger. He still wore his hair long from the time he worked narcotics. It violated code for homicide, which he managed to circumvent. If Joey had it his way, he’d come to work outfitted like someone off the cover of Soldiers of Fortune.
They definitely made an odd but striking pair as they strode down the hall of the station. Loud raucous noise told them it must have been a busy night. The bars on Long Island closed at different hours so there was a constant flow of drunk traffic en-route to the holding tanks. The bright fluorescent lights did little to shake off the lack of sleep. The pair stopped at the break room to grab a cup of coffee that had long since become dark and bitter.
Joey took a sip. “Mm-mm…The Eighteen Hour blend. Arnold must have made this yesterday morning.” His partner held his cup and grimaced.
Russ poked his nose in the Chief ’s office as they passed by. He really didn’t expect the former drill sergeant to be there but it was worth a look. Russ commented out loud, “No doubt he’s already sitting in the task room strumming his fingers even though we’re five minutes ahead of lift off.”
Joey shook his head. “I swear, the man probably catches forty winks standing up.” A couple of other detectives who were right behind them grinned in agreement as they filed into the room. Smiles and such were checked at the door.
CHAPTER 32
THE NATURE OF the murder was more bizarre and horrifying than anything anyone in the department had ever seen or cared to ever see again. Nor would they ever forget. The Chief barely waited for them to sit down.
“Get a haircut, Scenza. You’re not working vice anymore.” The Chief didn’t skip a beat to the next sentence.
“Her name is Selena Marie DeManta, age twenty-five, single. She and her three year old son were living alone but they were in the process of moving in with her aunt. Husband was in the military – Army Ranger. Killed in the line of duty six months ago.” This was mostly for the sake of the other detectives brought onto the team.
A low rumble of expletives and mumbling immediately followed. The Chief continued, “She’s a nurse. Yeah, I know. Was a nurse. We got a call a little while ago from a…” He had to slip his readers on and bring his notes closer, “Lisa Gentra, the babysitter. Selena was expected home sometime after midnight three nights ago but she never showed.”
A few of the detectives began to protest but the Chief held up his hand to finish. “The babysitter said she fell asleep waiting but Selena never came home from a patient’s house – Selena was a home care nurse. She always called if she was going to be too late. The babysitter attends the community college so she just dropped the kid off at the aunt’s house on her way to class the next morning.”
A voice from the back of the room. No one needed to turn and see who it was. Angie Badillo, tough and feisty. A well-respected detective. Everyone at the station had grown accustomed to Angie’s heavy Puerto Rican accent and her indignant, in-your-face delivery. Partner or perp, she held back nothing when it came to telling you what she thought of you or what she thought should be done to you. In graphic detail. Her reputation as a great interrogator preceded her. Most everything about Angie was petite and lean except when it came to a particular area that was situated between her ribs and her neck. Finding a good diagonal carry holster for her Glock had been difficult. Finding room for the gun was worse. Angie popped out of her chair ready to object. Roma cut her off with a smile.
“Detective Badillo, save it. I already know what you’re thinking.”
But Angie said her piece anyway, and not without a lot of gesturing and arm swinging. “And so say what? You telling me that the aunt hadn’t wondered why her niece never showed up for her child in three days? Three days? What about her work? If that was my niece, I sure as hell wouldn’t wait three days to start wondering! And she still wasn’t the one to call in that her niece was missing!” Angie looked around the room to make sure everyone was nodding in agreement. Except for the Chief, who tried to hide his amusement over Russ’s handling of Angie’s animated but sincere outrage.
Everyone was used to Angie. Sometimes she had to “get things off my chest,” as she’d say. And one of the guys usually followed with, “and with a chest that size, no wonder it takes you so long.” It was something that even Angie could joke about
with these guys who were like brothers. She never took offense and she could dish it right back. Her motto was “get some skin and a backbone if you’re that damn sensitive.”
She worked homicide in a rough area of the Bronx for several years. When she finally kicked her no-good, cheating husband out, she decided it was time to move to the suburbs for her kids’ sake. Where her kids, or anyone else’s children were concerned, Angie would fight to the death on their behalf. Hearing about the aunt’s reaction, or rather inaction, was like a high voltage jump start to Angie’s crusade for kids.
Satisfied to have made her point, Angie sat down and Detective Paulie Catrone spoke up. Unlike his partner Danny, who was sitting next to him and had leaned all the way back against the wall until the chair’s two front legs were airborne, Paulie was hunched forward on his seat. “We talked to the aunt. She said that Selena works a lot of extra hours so her schedule is all over the place – never seems to take free time for herself. The aunt thought that maybe Selena just needed some space and took off to be alone for a couple of days. Selena’s only been a widow for a short time. A young widow with a small child. Mix hard worker with the death of a spouse and at some point the shit’s finally gonna hit the fan in your head.”
Paulie and his partner, Danny, were good detectives, too. They had grown up in the same neighborhood of Brooklyn. Paulie liked to ascribe to his Italian grandmother’s philosophies, Danny liked to think in terms of Psych 101.
Danny spoke up from his perch. “So, I got the sense that the aunt isn’t unkind. It coulda’ just made sense to her that Selena needed to disappear for a few days…”