“Get this,” the burly guy said. “Two of the accidental deaths were guys that fell out of trees while trying to rescue cats. Dumb shits. Who ever saw a cat skeleton up in a tree? The damn things will get down when they want.”

“They were probably trying to impress their girlfriends,” Vince said.

The girl rolled her eyes. “Any woman who wants a guy that stupid should be taken out of the gene pool.”

Vince flashed a grin at her. “Now where’s your sense of romance?”

She laughed again. “I don’t bring it here.”

“Anyone seen Mikado?” Dixon asked.

“Third suite,” the big guy said. “He’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Good to see you, Cal.”

“You too, Buck.”

Vince winked at the girl, pleased that she winked back. Maybe he didn’t look so bad after all.

He fell in step beside Dixon.

“You pulled some big strings to get your vic bumped to the head of the line in this place.”

The LA County morgue was legendary. Open 24/7/365, something like twenty thousand autopsies were conducted there every year. There were around two hundred fifty corpses stacked on stainless steel shelves in the crypt on any given day.

“I spent a lot of years spinning those strings,” Dixon said. “If there was ever a time to pull them, it’s now.”

They went into one of the three autopsy suites and slipped into yellow gowns and booties, and white surgical masks so as not to contaminate or be contaminated. The pathologist and his staff were in blue gowns. Some wore goggles or face shields. One wore a small gas mask. Introductions were made by Dixon.

“Mik, this is my detective Tony Mendez and Special Agent Vince Leone, FBI. Tony, Vince: Assistant Chief Medical Examiner-Coroner Dr. Mik Mikado. “

Mikado was the one in the gas mask. He raised his eyebrows. “Wow. You’re bringing in the BIG guns, Cal.” He nodded to Vince. “Pleased to meet you. I’m a big fan.”

Vince rolled his eyes. “No autographs, please. I’m just here helping out. There’s the star of this show,” he said, nodding toward the dead woman laid out naked on the stainless steel table. “Let’s see what she has to say.”

They settled into the serious business. On the far side of the suite, another autopsy was well under way, the coroner and assistants moving quietly around one another, like dancers performing the same choreography for the hundredth time. A bone saw whined. Steel instruments clanked against steel trays. One of the gowned people approached the table with a huge red-handled tree pruner for cutting ribs.

Mikado began the visual examination.