Death By Degrees

by Harrison Drake

  “But she never made it.”

  “No. She never did. They found her bike almost two weeks later outside a bowling alley. We kind of assumed that was where she had left it. It was an old bike that no one would really care to steal, even with the way bike thefts are here.”

  “That bad?”

  “Pretty much the only thing that gets stolen.”

  “Must make your job easy,” I said. “I’m jealous.”

  “It’s different here than in Canada. Our crime rate is a lot lower, but we also don’t have the same number of police officers. And we don’t get paid anywhere near what you guys do.”

  “That bad?”

  “Could be worse. Working for the government has it’s perks no matter what country you’re in.”

  He had a point.

  “Anyway. Megumi was an only child. Her parents were devastated. Mom tried to kill herself on the one-year anniversary of Megumi going missing. She jumped in front of a train but a few people saw her try and managed to pull her back in just in time. Her father comes to the station from time to time to speak to the detectives about the case, see if there’s anything new. There never is. And every time he comes in, he’s drunker than the last.”

  “I can’t blame him. I couldn’t imagine losing a child.”

  “You have kids?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “A boy and a girl.” I took pictures out of my wallet. “Link and Kasia. They’re ten and eight.”

  “Beautiful,” he said, pulling out his wallet. “This is Akane, she turned three last week. My wife is pregnant with our second, only a few months along.”

  “She’s adorable, Arata. Do you know what you guys are having?”

  “No. She wants to find out, I don’t. So far, we’re leaving it a surprise.”

  “We didn’t find out either time,” I said. “I’m glad we didn’t. It made that day even more special.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. But Misaki – my wife – wants to be able to have the baby’s room decorated, have clothes already bought. You know, all that nesting stuff she says she didn’t get to do before Akane was born.”

  “What about going with neutral colours?”

  “We did that for Akane and then I had to repaint and redecorate a few weeks later. Neither of us want to do that again.”

  “I can see that. Oh well, honestly, either way I’m sure when the big day comes it’s still going to be just as amazing. Not to mention I had friends who were having a girl, painted everything pink, but girl’s clothes, a pink stroller, the whole shebang.” I paused for dramatic effect.

  “And?”

  “Their daughter? His name is Michael.”

  Arata burst out laughing. “Guess ultrasound technology isn’t perfect after all.”

  “Apparently not. Everyone else found it hilarious. They eventually saw the humour in it, although it cost them a fair buck in the end with all sorts of things they couldn’t return.”

  “Lincoln, that story may just get her to give up trying to find out. Thanks!”

  “Glad I could help.”

  We kept walking for another half hour or so, Eddie and Najat tailing by about a minute. They were talking and appeared to be very much enjoying each other’s company.

  Had I inadvertently played matchmaker?

  I told myself that I would ask Eddie when I had the chance. He’d be more open to discussing it than Najat, and maybe I could even play wingman for him, help him out a little.

  By the time we reached the first burial site I was drenched with sweat and felt like I’d just done a full workout in a steam room. My lungs felt heavy as I breathed. There was no way that what we’d just put ourselves through was healthy. We all sat on a fallen tree and took a breather before the dig commenced.

  The detectives had been ahead of us the whole way and had already had some extra time to relax. Both were standing a stone’s throw from the site with cigarettes in one hand and portable electric fans in another. Stress relief and a chance to cool down all at once. For a moment, it was almost tempting. When they were done the cigarettes one pulled out a small plastic cylinder and they both put their butts inside. Portable fans and portable ashtrays… what was next?

  Once we identified the grave it was routine once more. The remains gave us nothing new to go on. It had been long enough that there was no tissue left, only bones. This made the cross carved into the skull very easy to detect as we brushed the dirt away. Bits of dirt stayed within the cross making it contrast against the skull. I still didn’t understand the ritual and why he was doing this. There were still so many things we didn’t know.

  The detectives had brought a large digital camera with them, one with far more power than I was used to. I took a number of pictures during the dig and later of the surrounding area and the remains. I had to move around the grave to keep the sun from casting my shadow across the skeleton.

  “Eddie,” I said, snapping picture after picture. “Did any of the reports you compiled mention the position of the body? Like which direction it was facing?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t remember entering that in. I could probably figure it out from the pictures though.”

  “Alright, you just volunteered yourself for a new job. The two we had back home were both facing pretty much to the east, a little south but not much. Finland the body was facing to the south.”

  “Think that has something to do with it?”

  “Kat thought maybe. Burial direction was based on tradition but the two in Canada were facing opposite to the Christian tradition of having the head to the west. Maybe having them turned around would follow along the lines of carving the cross in upside-down, but Finland changed things there.”

  “I’ll see what I can figure out once we’re back to the office.”

  “Thanks. It may be nothing. The two in Canada might have just been coincidental.”

  “No worries. It’s worth checking it out.”

  I nodded then went back to the photos.

  After a few hours of muggy heat and dripping sweat the skeleton was fully exposed. We had been joined by other officers and a coroner who were there to assist in removing the bones and bringing them to the nearest hospital for the post-mortem. And now we had to walk about a kilometer back more or less in the direction we had come.

  We left the officers and coroner behind. Two were to stay and search the area for any evidence - something I expected they wouldn’t find. It had been almost two years and we hadn’t known Crawford to leave anything behind. Someone also had to handle the task of filling the grave back in. Not the nicest task, and for me it seemed more morbid to fill in the empty grave than to exhume the body.

  The next gravesite was easier to find even though it was a little further from the trail. The dirt was piled higher leading me to believe the grave had been dug shallower. If that was the case, it meant Crawford was moving faster than he had wanted to. For whatever reason, he didn’t have the time to dig a deeper grave.

  “This one will be shallower,” I said to Najat. We both crouched down and began removing the dirt.

  “Because the pile is higher?”

  “Yes. It almost looks like he barely dug a hole and just piled the dirt up over the body. See? If you look around here you can see we’re in a bit of a depression.”

  The earth around us looked like those pictures of the splash a water droplet would make when a really high-speed camera was used. There was a ring around us where the ground was lower and then it rose up again in the middle where the body was buried. Had it been closer to the path and not hidden behind the trees and bushes, I had a feeling this grave would’ve been discovered earlier by someone passing through on a hike or something.

  “Who do we have here, Arata?”

  “Hidenori Kobay
ashi. Reported missing two days after Megumi but last seen the night before she went missing. He was a business bachelor, so he lived alone.”

  “Business bachelor?”

  “A man who lives and works in one city while his wife and family live in another. They usually stay in the city for a couple of weeks then go home for a visit.”

  “An odd set-up.”

  “Yeah, not ideal by any stretch. There are a lot less these days. Most of the guys my age don’t want that. I think it was just that they didn’t want to have to relocate the whole family and they probably hoped that with the experience the man gained at the job he’d be able to find something back home. Hidenori had been doing it for seven years though.”

  “Shit. That’s a long time to be away from your family and only visiting occasionally.”

  “I agree. Family dynamics, especially for older generations, are different than what you’re used to. It’s just the way it is here. Men work and work and work. That has to be their lives or they lose their jobs. Drink with the boss after work, never turn down overtime or a business trip… going against the grain isn’t really accepted here.”

  “So he just didn’t show up for work and they called?”

  “No, his wife hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days. The day he was last seen, he’d been fired for poor performance. The investigators, his coworkers, even his wife believed he’d killed himself. Losing his job, especially at his age, it would have been a huge hit to his sense of honour.”

  “The suicide rate is pretty high here, isn’t it?”

  “It is. I think we push people too hard, in school and in work. Losing your job or failing out of school shouldn’t be seen as the absolute end of the world. I think it’s improving though, but it’s hard. We really don’t see failure as an option.”

  “I kind of wish we were more like that. A little more hard-working than we are.”

  “Pros and cons, just like with everything else.”

  “Too true.”

  “Hidenori actually lived close to here so these woods were checked when he went missing. People come into the woods here to hang themselves. I guess we should’ve been looking to the ground and not the trees.”

  “What if he came in here to kill himself and stumbled upon Crawford burying Megumi?”

  “Hmmm, you might be on to something,” Arata said.

  Najat and I continued brushing the dirt away revealing the skull first. The telltale cross was there once more, but this time it wasn’t alone. A deep crack ran along the top of the skull and down the right side. It must have been a few inches in length.

  “I think my theory might be right,” I said. Arata came over and looked down at the skull.

  “That definitely looks fatal. Cause of death, perhaps?”

  “Seems that way,” I said. “I wonder if there will be any more injuries.”

  “What was the cause of death on the others?”

  “So far we know one for certain and it was a stab wound to the abdomen. That body still had enough tissue left for us to determine the cause of death. We just excavated a body in Finland though that had what looks to be a blade mark on one of the lumbar vertebra. Fits with a stab to the abdomen.”

  “So this doesn’t fit then?”

  “Not at all. There hasn’t been any evidence of blunt force trauma.”

  “Then Hidenori interrupting Crawford makes a lot of sense. Crawford would’ve needed to have a shovel with him.”

  I nodded, knowing what he was getting at. “A shovel definitely could have cracked the skull like that.”

  We dug deeper, revealing more of the remains a little at a time. The shroud was there again, linens wrapped around the body. The arms were positioned along the sides with the linen wrapped around the arms and torso together. With the other victims, the arms had been left free. I pulled back the linen as much as I could and noticed straight away that the right arm had been violently broken. Both the radius and ulna were in pieces. Bone fragments lay upon the linen.

  “He tried to defend himself. Must have caught Crawford while he was burying Megumi. Crawford attacked and Hidenori put his arm up to block it; looks like the blow was powerful enough to pretty much shatter his bones. Unless we find more injuries, and I doubt we will, the second strike was the killing blow.”

  “You think it was just two hits?”

  “The amount of force required to break the bone like that, I’d say it would’ve taken an overhead swing coming down on the arm from above. If he’d hit him that hard, Hidenori probably would have been in too much pain to defend a second time.”

  Arata leaned over the grave and looked at what remained of the arm bones. “Yeah, that does look like it would’ve taken a very violent swing. So this one wasn’t planned then?”

  “Doesn’t look like it. Crawford would not have been happy about that. He was too used to having things always go his way.”

  “How many people has he killed, Lincoln? Sixty-something?”

  “Sixty-five counting Hidenori. At least that’s how many were identified in the e-mails. What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. If he’s going for a certain number, do you think he would count this as one or two?”

  I had to think about it for a minute. Did he have a goal in mind where he would stop, or was he just killing until he got caught? My mind wandered back to my first serial killer case only two years ago. Saunders never seemed to count his crimes, but he was definitely affected when he unknowingly murdered a pregnant woman. It had caused him to attack again quickly, much faster than he had before, in order to restore balance to his life and “work”.

  “Eddie, are you able to access your program from here?”

  “Of course,” he said. He took his backpack off and unzipped it, taking his netbook out. “What did you want to know?”

  “How long was it before the next killing compared to the average time?”

  “After this one? Let me see.” He was holding the computer in his left hand and typing with his right. Even one-handed he typed faster than I could. It only took him a couple of minutes to get the information, and most of that was probably waiting for the program to load. “Fifteen days. Pretty average.”

  “So this didn’t change his plan at all. It’s almost like this didn’t even affect him.”

  “He was protecting himself to a degree,” Arata said. “He probably used that to justify his killing of Hidenori. Even though it wasn’t part of the plan, it became part of it.”

  “Even though he’s clearly nuts, he seems rational in his thoughts. I guess he was able to rationalize this killing and move on without any ill effects to his psyche.”

  “Kind of frightening,” Arata said.

  “I’ve always believed that there is nothing more dangerous than a purely rational mind. I mean, it takes much more than just rational thought, but if you can, sometimes in an instant, justify a course of action to yourself as being the only logical course to take…”

  “And they’re always harder to catch.”

  “Yeah, they’re smarter. They don’t panic and they plan before, during and after – even if it is a spur of the moment thing. It’s like the mind never stops planning. But a rational serial killer? I don’t think they exist. Sooner or later, they crack. Sometimes they did before they even started. Sure they may have rational moments, plans and everything, but can they hold it together?”

  “That’s where you’re at with Crawford, isn’t it?”

  “It is.” Arata was quite intuitive. It didn’t seem like he was anticipating my answers, it was that he already knew the answer. He was going to make a hell of a detective one day.

  “They aren’t too in to this,” I said to Arata, gesturing casually toward the two detectives.

  “They’ll follo
w up on it after. I think they’re worried about not speaking English. They probably know enough to get by, they just don’t want to be wrong. Part of the culture.”

  “I hear that fully. We’ve traveled a bit with this case and everywhere we go I’m terrified of working with someone where they don’t speak English and I don’t speak their language. We need Babel Fish.”

  Arata laughed. I wasn’t sure he was going to get it. References to Douglas Adams’s classic The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy were usually lost on a lot of people. The Babel Fish was a small yellow fish that was put into a person’s ear and allowed the person to instantly understand anything said in any language. It also later became the name of an online translator.

  “They would make things easier, although weren’t they also responsible for a number of bloody wars throughout history?”

  “They were. Nice to meet another fan.”

  “Likewise.”

  More officers arrived as we finished the dig and the coroner, just as sweaty as we all were, was back for his second trip. He had to be into his sixties and was very thin, although he seemed to be in good shape. Still, I had to think that the humidity and terrain had to be wearing him down. The rest of us were decades younger and we were hurting.

  The dig seemed to slow toward the end and I wondered if part of it was due to trying to prolong the inevitable. The longer we took, the more time we had before we had to hike back down the mountain. It didn’t seem to matter that it was getting to be late in the afternoon. The heat and humidity hung on, refusing to die. It felt like every step involved walking through a wall of thick, wet air.

  “Is it always like this?” I said, pulling my tie back and forth to loosen it.

  “In the summer… yeah. Pretty much. It’ll stay like this for a while then we’ll get a typhoon and a month’s worth of wind and rain in a day. Then a day later it’ll be like this again.”