O’Hagan glanced up from the body. “We’re about to begin, gentlemen.” She held Leo’s gaze pointedly. Maddocks could feel the ice in it. The doc, on the other hand, clearly appeared to like the female detective. She reached up, clicked on the mike that hung above the table, and stated time and date and that she was commencing a preliminary external visual examination.
She spoke her observations out loud, starting from the head, as her assistant meticulously took more photos from all angles.
“The more vertical slope of the forehead and size of the head is indicative of a female. Smaller mandible and maxilla. We’ll have the odontologist look at the dental work if necessary, but extensive cosmetic dentistry is immediately apparent. Anthropophagy on face is extensive. From the feeding patterns, likely primarily saltwater shrimp, perhaps some other crustaceans and invertebrates. First site of attack appears to have been the softer tissue of the lips, eyelids, ears.”
Maddocks stepped forward for a closer look. Leo fidgeted behind him, paper crackling as he opened another stick of gum. O’Hagan brought her magnifying glass down by an extendable arm and peered closely at the decedent’s opaque, bulbous eyes. The strings of the cello rose.
“Petechiae,” she said quietly, bringing the magnifier with its built-in light closer. “Tiny pinpoints. Clusters.”
Maddocks was intimately familiar with the term for the small red or purple spots—hemorrhages—that occurred when blood leaked from the tiny capillaries in the eyes. The cause of the ruptures was usually due to increased pressure on the veins in the neck when airways were obstructed. If petechial hemorrhages were present, it was a strong indication of asphyxia by strangulation as cause of death, whether by manual strangulation, hanging, or smothering.
“Looks like multiple events,” she said.
“As in tightening, releasing, tightening again?” Maddocks said. “As in erotic asphyxiation, or breath-control play for sexual arousal?”
“Possible,” O’Hagan said. “The presence of petechiae does not prove strangulation, and their absence does not disprove it. They’re simply a marker of increased cephalic venous pressure. But ineighty-five percent of manual strangulation cases, petechial hemorrhaging presents. Takes only about thirty seconds of sustained pressure.”
She moved her light again and looked into the other eye. “When the carotid arteries are compressed, the sudden loss of oxygen-rich blood to the brain and the accumulation of carbon dioxide can lead to feelings of giddiness and pleasure, all of which will heighten sexual sensation. Combined with orgasm, the rush is said to be no less powerful than cocaine and highly addictive.”
The cello music rose to a crescendo, then fell to a seductive whispering as the dieners combed through their Jane Doe’s hair, removing seaweed, other vegetation, small invertebrates, and foreign particles, meticulously bagging and documenting each piece of trace. The fauna and flora trace in her hair might help determine postmortem interval, or PMI. It could also help determine where their Jane Doe might have entered the water and from where she could have drifted.
“A lock of her hair has been cut,” said one assistant suddenly. “See? Right at the hairline, near the center of the forehead.”
Maddocks shot a glance at Leo. Both knew about Gracie Drummond’s lock of hair. It was all over the media now. Photographs were taken of the cut sprouts of hair.
O’Hagan turned her attention to the victim’s neck.
“The rope securing the tarp to her neck looks to be the same kind of rope used to bind up the rest of her body. Knots also appear consistent.” She measured the length of the loose end. “Three point nine five meters from the knot cluster at her throat.”
“Looks like polyester, maybe three-strand,” Maddocks said quietly. “Common marine equipment that you can buy anywhere. Recently bought several meters exactly like it myself. And those look like reef knots. Any mariner, climber, Boy Scout, Girl Guide, or fisherman knows how to tie those knots to join pieces of rope.”
“You got a boat?” Leo said.
“Hmm.” Maddocks watched closely as O’Hagan moved her attention to the plastic tarp, checking for external trace—hairs, fibers. She reached suddenly for forceps and carefully extracted something minute from the fibers of one of the knots.
“Looks like some kind of hair has been trapped inside some of the knots and caught in the rough weave of the rope.” She brought her magnifying glass back down close again and began to painstakingly remove and examine the evidence. “Some as long as two centimeters. Some blondish, others dark brown. A white one. Coarse.” She fell silent a while. “Quite a few. Not human. More like the outer guard hairs of an animal. And what appears to be softer, finer fur.”
“Dogs? Cats?” Leo said.
“We’ll get the lab to tell us,” O’Hagan said. “Hairs are composed primarily of the protein keratin. Each species of animal possesses hair with characteristic length, color, shape, root appearance, and microscopic features that will enable our forensic techs to identify one species from another.”
The hairs went individually into paper envelopes and were labeled by the dieners.
“Might help associate her with a crime scene,” Maddocks said quietly. “On land—because I’m guessing that’s not hair from a sea creature.”
The cello notes fell, almost silent now, creating a kind of tension in the room before the anticipated next crescendo. The minutes ticked by. Maddocks began to feel hot in spite of the cold in the morgue. Stainless steel instruments clacked against the sink.
“There are some scratches in the tarp fabric,” O’Hagan said. “Could be traveling abrasions from being dragged along by the current.” These breaches were noted, photographed. “Let’s flip her over then, shall we?”
The assistants aided O’Hagan in hefting the cocooned Jane Doe onto her stomach.
“Striations on the back of her head are almost four centimeters deep and nine centimeters apart.” O’Hagan picked a tiny, wiggling shrimp out of one of the wounds. It was bagged.
“Eating into her brain. Shit,” mumbled Leo.
Maddocks inhaled slowly to reach for calm, but he regretted it instantly because it filled his nasal cavity with the briny smells of the woman’s death and the morgue.
More photographs were taken. Again, O’Hagan worked her external examination from head to foot. Deep-purple marks were visible under the plastic.
