CHAPTER EIGHT

The body of Lucinda Masters lay on the examination table, telling a brutal story. Rachel had long ago learned the lesson that the extremity of violence was rarely captured in pictures, no matter how expensive the camera or how gruesome the scene. Seeing the body with your own eyes was so much worse; it removed the filter of distance and replaced it with intimacy. It was no longer a body on a screen or a print, it was right there in front of you, a very real and bloody thing.

The coroner stood to the back of the room as Rachel and Jack observed the body. Lucinda had apparently kept in good shape; she had toned legs and arms that looked vaguely muscular. Her breasts, though obviously affected slightly by age, showed no signs that she had borne children or nursed them. Again, Rachel thought of the prenatal vitamins in Lucindas bathroom.

As you can see, the coroner said, the cause of death is quite simple. Multiple stab wounds. Even without an official autopsy, I can look at the angle and bleed rate to determine the internal areas that were affected. Clearly, the lower abdomen was targeted, though not with any sort of precision. The stomach has been lacerated, both kidneys punctured, intestines cut in several places, and Id suspect the uterus has also been badly damaged.

You said there was no real precision, Jack said. What makes you say that?

Even before the coroner answered, Rachel thought she knew. Killers that knew what they were doing typically stabbed in certain areas, and they did it in a way that each stab would pierce something vital. What Rachel saw on the table in front of her was the work of a man with no clear path of attack. Hed just stabbed blindly.

It reminded her of something from her pastone of the cases that had so far defined her career. It was a case she always thought of time and time again. Whenever she allowed her mind to go there, it was accentuated with the face of a frail-looking man staring at her through thick glasses, a smile on his face that chilled her.

The wounds are made by an amateur, the coroner said, breaking apart Rachels thoughts and stopping her from revisiting that dark place. Blind rage. Id also suggest that the knife he used was rather dull. There are a few wounds that almost look as if she was impaled by something rather than stabbed with a knife.

Is the first victim still accessible? Rachel asked.

Yes, come this way, please.

The coroner led them out of the primary examination area and led them down the hallway, to a larger room. Inside, what looked like several small metal doors were installed into the wall. Rachel had been in more than her share of these and knew this was body storage area. If shed had any doubt, the drastic change in temperature would have clued her in.