“Of course, the tongue is missing, too,” Dr. Aubrey told them. “Pretty similar to the other two women discovered in Maryland and DC.”
Matt nodded. He moved forward, making a pretense of studying the woman’s face as he set his hand on her cold body. Nothing. He looked into the young woman’s face. She hadn’t been in the water as long; she wasn’t as damaged or bloated as the others. He could envision her the way she’d been in life.
“Was this chopping done with any kind of medical skill?” Matt asked.
“In my opinion, no,” Aubrey said. He demonstrated. “The tongue was cut out first. I’d say the guy has some strength. It’s harder to cut up a human being than you’d imagine.”
“And the slash down the torso—a brutal slash, too?” Meg asked.
“Yes, and sloppy. Stupid, too. He stuffs the body with rocks but doesn’t create a decent cavity,” Aubrey said. “I don’t really understand how you guys classify these things, but he’s leaving no DNA that we can gather. And, of course, he’s using the river to help him with that, too. He has to be covered in...blood and guts when he’s done, but no one’s seen anything, that I know of.”
“No,” Meg said. “Not that anyone’s reported.”
“I guess it’s easier to kill undetected than one would think,” Aubrey said. “He must knock the women out and transport them before he does his killing. There’s no lack of wooded areas during the summer in Virginia. So, he takes them somewhere—kills them, rips them apart and throws them in the river. I read up on the other cases. He may be getting sloppier. This one popped up within hours.”
“Maybe he was tired or in a hurry,” Meg murmured. “Time of death?”
“Between 2:00 and 4:00 a.m.,” Dr. Aubrey told them. “What do you think about the tongues?”
“My theory?” Matt asked. “He means to silence them. Silence them about the murders? About something in his life? Or something he perceives they know? I’m not sure. It could also be that he just wants a signature—and that’s his signature.”
Detective Wharton, who’d been called to the site where the body had been discovered on the James River, cleared his throat. “We were lucky to get a quick ID,” he said. “City cops were called in by Ms. Gonzales’s neighbors when her dog barked and cried endlessly. They saw her picture and everything fell into place. Her next of kin in Louisiana has been called, but that was a ninety-year-old grandmother in a nursing home.”
“There was no disturbance at her house?”
“Nothing other than that the dog tried to eat shoes and the poor thing had been scratching at the toilet bowl.”
“She was working at a coffee shop in Richmond?” Meg asked. “That’s been confirmed?”
“Yeah. She’d hardly been there a month. She was a newcomer to the area,” Wharton said. He was a man in his early forties, polite enough, but somewhat stiff. He’d greeted them with professional courtesy; in autopsy, he’d let the doctor do the talking. “I was told the feds would be taking the lead on this case and that a few agents would be down in the morning. Then I got another call saying you’d be here tonight. So, are you going to be the lead?”
In Matt’s experience, law enforcement agencies generally worked well together. Every once in a while, though, someone felt a jurisdictional urge. He liked to be as deferential as possible—unless someone acted like a dog peeing on a tree to mark his territory. But he didn’t feel Wharton was a jerk—just a man concerned about how it was all going to work.
“This is a task force with everyone needed,” Matt said. “Two agents from my office will be down here to work the Richmond angle, but they’ll be consulting with you. We’re following a couple of other leads and won’t be in the city that long. We have DC and Maryland police working it as well, and plan to have a communication system in place so we can all keep in touch. No one knows a given area like the police who work it. But this killer is crossing state and district lines, so we have to be mobile to keep an eye on him.”
“We’re grateful for how quickly and efficiently you’ve handled this,” Meg told Wharton. “And for your willingness to see us now.”
The detective warmed visibly, but Matt suspected that his words, no matter how careful, hadn’t been what had changed Wharton’s opinion. Meg’s sincere appeal seemed to do the trick.
“Of course.” Wharton nodded. “What else can I do?”
Matt requested Wharton’s report from the scene and assured him he’d be included in the task force meeting the next morning.
Meg told the ME again how much they appreciated his time and help.
Outside the Richmond OCME, Wharton hesitated. “You need help with anything in the city?” he asked.
Matt smiled at him. “I was actually born here.”
“And I’m from Harpers Ferry, but I went to college here,” Meg said.