My partner took another breath, this one markedly shallower than the one before. ‘The scent of urine and faeces is predominant. Next is the coppery smell of blood, and under that is something kind of sweet.’ He grimaced. ‘And something else. Something … acidic?’
‘Right. The acidity comes from the stomach juices. That coppery tang is there as soon as blood is spilled, but that faintly sweet edge develops after three or four hours. So, we’re definitely more than a couple of hours post-mortem, but less than eight. How else can we nail down the time of death?’
‘Rigor mortis?’
‘Right. Check his jaw. Rigor starts in the small muscles first – jaw, eyelids, neck.’
Channing reached out and gently prised the jaw open. ‘Some resistance,’ he murmured, almost to himself. ‘It feels almost rubbery. Stiff but not yet set.’
‘Which tells us what?’
‘We’re three to four hours post-mortem, not much more. Five hours post and the jaw would be locked.’
‘So what’s our estimated time of death?’
He looked at his watch. ‘It’s 8.30am now. He died between three and five hours ago, so any time from 3.30am to 5.30am.’
‘You got it,’ I said, pleased. ‘ME will confirm, but that’s our ballpark. Update SPEL and McCaffrey. Now, what can you tell me about the injuries?’
Channing leaned closer to the wounds, careful to remain out of the blood and guts pooling underneath the chair. ‘Two points of incision. The angle’s upward through the diaphragm into the chest cavity. Victim was sitting, and the wounds were made at close range. The tearing here,’ he pointed, ‘means the weapon wasn’t withdrawn cleanly.’
I arched a brow. ‘So?’
‘So we’re not looking for a knife,’ he said slowly. ‘The entry point is almost rounded.’ He stood and turned to face me. He had reached the same conclusion I had, and he was no more happy about it than I was. ‘I’d say we’re looking at tusks. Ogre’s tusks.’
I kept my face carefully blank. He was bang on the money. I’d seen wounds like this before, most recently on Einar.
I was trying to keep a lid on my agitation. If one of Krieg’s ogres were responsible for this – andallogres were his – then we were going to have to lock horns over it, and his were bigger. Okay, so his horns were technically tusks, but either way, this wasn’t going to be good for us.
Hopefully the ogre in question had a valid contract in place. The Other had a warped sense of justice, and as long as the assassin had a legal contract in place, he would have no legal responsibility for the death. Then I could focus on whoever had ordered the hit rather than the hands – or tusks – that had done the killing.Ifthere was a valid contract, I’d be able to wrap this case up by the close of business. If there wasn’t…
None of that turmoil showed in my voice as I calmly said, ‘Good. And what about defensive wounds?’
‘There are none. The cuffs on the deceased’s wrists are magic-cancelling cuffs – Connection-issue – so he had no access to his magic at the time of death. There are faint marks around the wrists and ankles, but no lacerations.’
‘Which tells us what?’
‘The deceased was secured to the chair when he was killed, and he didn’t have the time, consciousness, or wherewithal to fight his restraints.’
‘Right. How quickly would a wound like that kill him?’
Channing considered the question before speaking. ‘It depends on what the tusk hit. If it tore the aorta or nicked theheart, he’d have been unconscious in a minute, dead in two. If it missed the major vessels but ripped the intestines, he’d have bled out more slowly. Five to twenty minutes to collapse. Half an hour of life, tops, before death, if he was lucky.’
‘Not lucky,’ Loki interjected.
My caladrius companion was right. Lasting half an hour while eviscerated was the opposite of good luck.
‘In this particular case, I’d say he was lucky,’ I murmured. ‘It looks as though it was all over fairly quickly and he didn’t suffer for too long. Judging by the volume of blood loss and the way he’s slumped, the tusk probably went through the diaphragm too. We’re likely looking at a collapsed lung and massive internal bleeding. He’d have been out in seconds, dead within a few minutes. A small mercy.’ I looked at my partner. ‘Anything else to note?’
Channing’s head tilted as he considered. ‘No signs of forced entry into the property. Marlow’s protective runes were nullified before the perpetrator gained access. He had a Common security system too, but it was disengaged.’
‘So what does that tell us?’’
‘Whoever did this was a pro.’
‘Exactly.’ I rubbed my bottom lip. ‘But if we’re looking at a professional hit – and we’re assuming at this point an ogre carried it out – then the whole set-up seems … off.’ I was mostly thinking aloud, picturing the moment that Robbie had killed Einar with his tusks. Robbie had been moving fast, and he’d used momentum and his tusks to kill the rogue ogre. Einar had been pinned up against a wall and – like all ogres – he’d been tall. Robbie hadn’t had to do much more than lower his head as he’d charged, yet here …
I shook my head. ‘Marlow is secured low on the chair. I can’t get the mechanics to line up.’
