The_Amazing_Mr._Howard (18 page)

“Doubtful. Her skin would be gone and the bones scattered. I’m surprised scavengers didn’t find her before you did.” Dr. Moore raised Stephanie’s left arm. “This is interesting.”

“What?” Killgood asked.

Dr. Moore pointed to several small discolored spots on the arm near the elbow joint. “These are needle marks. Did this girl have a history of drug usage?”

A sudden pain shot through Willard’s skull and he grimaced.

Dr. Moore stared at him. “Do the needle marks mean something to you?”

Willard massaged his temples as he thought.

Needle marks, where have I heard about needle marks?

“I’m not sure. I seem to recall hearing something about needles, but I’ll need to check my notes. As far as drug usage, the girl has no history of it.”

Dr. Moore turned to Thomas. “Perhaps the killer drugged her in order to make her relax. It wouldn’t be the first time. The toxicology report will tell us.”

“He didn’t drug her,” Willard said.

Everyone glared at him. “Why do you say that?” Agent Powers asked.

“I’m not sure… but, I don’t think he wanted her drugged. The ligature marks prove he kept her tied up. And since he chose such a remote spot for the burial, I’m guessing the killer lives someplace isolated. Someplace he can come and go from at all hours without arousing suspicion.”

“Perhaps your deductive reasoning is correct, Detective,” Dr. Moore said. “Only time will tell.” Doctor Moore motioned Thomas forward. “Now, let us move our examination inward and see what clues the internal organs hold.”

Thomas leaned over the body. He used a large scalpel to make a Y-shaped incision in the trunk, curving the cut beneath the breasts as was custom with female corpses rather than the straight cut done on men. The tail of the Y extended to the pubic bone, deviating slightly to avoid the navel. When he finished making the cut, Thomas went to work peeling the skin, muscle, and soft tissues off the chest wall.

Willard pressed his hand under his nose and turned away as the smell of the rotting muscles washed over him. The stench reminded him of raw lamb and it took him several seconds to acclimate to it. The high-pitched whirl of an electric saw filled the room as Thomas opened the rib cage. Willard was amazed at the speed with which the doctor and his assistant removed the organs to the dissecting table.

“Interesting,” Dr. Moore said as he drew a blood sample from the heart. “She has suffered considerable blood loss.” Thomas used a scalpel to make an incision around the crown of the head. He divided the skin and soft tissues and with a grunt, pulled the front flap of skin over Stephanie’s face, her identity buried beneath a mask of red meat.

Thomas went to work cutting around the equator of the cranium with a Stryker saw, the blade whining as it sliced, puffs of white rising from the incision. After removing the skull cap, he used a scalpel to sever the spinal cord and Dural reflections, and lifted out the brain. He joined Dr. Moore and together they weighed and dissected various organs. When Dr. Moore opened the stomach, a stench that reminded Willard of a Mississippi outhouse in July flooded the air.

“Look here,” the doctor said, pointing with a scalpel toward the stomach, “there is still food. Do you understand what this means? The suspect fed her and then immediately killed her. That’s why the pyloric valve between the stomach and the small intestine snapped shut.”

Willard took a deep breath through his mouth and forced himself to step closer. He stared at the contents of the dissected stomach and saw gray and tan crumbles, mixed with small pieces of a dark reddish material. “What is that?”

“Some kind of meat and fruit.”

“Looks like Weiner Schnitzel and plum cake,” Thomas said.

Killgood stepped next to Willard. “I thought Weiner Schnitzel was a hot dog.”

A deep chuckle rolled from Thomas’s gut. “Everyone thinks that. Weiner Schnitzel is veal, covered in batter and fried. My grandmother was from Vienna. She used to make us Weiner schnitzel and Viennese plum cake all the time.”

Willard’s headache intensified. “I’m going to take off.” He turned from the table and walked toward the dressing room. Inside, he sat on a bench, peeled off his mask, and took several deep breaths, reveling in the air that didn’t smell like shit. The door opened and Killgood entered. He removed his mask and hair cover.

“Why’d you leave?”

“No reason to stay. We already know how he killed her. The question now is why?” Willard pulled off his hair cover and unzipped his bunny suit. “And why did he need to keep her alive for a week? That’s taking a big risk and this guy doesn’t strike me as a risk taker.”

Killgood sat on the opposite bench. “Yeah, I’m struggling with that too. I can understand why he’d keep her if he wanted to rape her or torture her, but there’s nothing to indicate torture except for those needle marks.”

“Which neither one of us believes were the result of torture.”

Killgood nodded. “You’re right. Those marks are too precise to have been caused by torture. They appeared to line up perfectly with her veins. Maybe he kept her doped.”

“I don’t think so,” Willard said.

Killgood unzipped his protective coveralls. “He did take her clothes and a locket.”

“Everything he does, he does for a reason. I’m not convinced he wanted her clothes or that locket for trophies.”

Killgood slipped out of his covering. “What’s the deal about the needle marks?”

Willard leaned onto his thighs and rested his head in his hands. “I remember something about needle marks. I’m sure I have it in my notes.” He stood and ran a hand through his hair, damp with sweat despite the cold air in the autopsy room. “Do you figure this case is connected to the disappearance of Ryan Gabbert?”

Killgood’s cheeks flushed. “The cases aren’t related.”

Willard slipped into his jacket. “I know all about your connection to Ryan. Put your mind at ease. I don’t think you had anything to do with his disappearance.”

Killgood sighed heavily. “We should contact Alicia Whitmore to see if she can come up with anything else.”

Willard nodded. “What about Mr. Howard? He’s been unusually silent.”

“When I told him we’d discovered Stephanie’s body, he said that he had a recent vision about her, but didn’t contact me because he didn’t think the information was useful.”

Willard’s right hand balled into a fist. “You told him we recovered the body?”

“Why not?” Killgood’s eyes narrowed. “You still don’t think he’s involved in this, do you?”

“What did Mr. Howard tell you?”

“He said he saw Stephanie in a dark place and something about the land being flat and a tree, and a fence.”

“Which pretty much describes the crime scene.” Willard massaged his eyes. “I find his timing somewhat odd, don’t you?”

“What now?”

He went to Killgood. “I’ve got reading to do. Call me when you’ve set something up with Alicia.”

Willard drove three blocks to find a shady place to park. He opened Mr. Howard’s book on vampires. “Let’s see what you have to say.” He turned to the first chapter,
A Brief History of Vampires
.

Vampires are said to be mythological or folkloric beings that subsist by feeding on the blood or life essence of living humans. They are recorded in various cultures throughout the world and go back to prehistoric times. In the early 18th Century, the term “vampire” became popularized as an influx of vampire superstition spread from areas such as the Balkans and Eastern Europe in Western Europe.

“Interesting stuff, Professor, but not what I’m looking for.” He flipped the pages, quickly scanning the contents, until stopping on a page that talked about the appearance of vampires.

Vampires are, by nature, creatures of the night. Due in part to the death of their own cells at the time of transformation and their reliance on fresh blood from an outside source, a vampire’s skin is typically ashen in appearance. Vampires are sensitive to sunlight, like a human that suffers from Polymorphic Light Eruption or PMLE. Because of this, they must take precautions to protect their skin from direct sunlight. Prolonged exposure to sunlight is fatal to vampires.

Willard looked up from the book. “Son of a bitch. Mr. Howard said he had PMLE.” He fanned through the pages until coming to a section about vampire feeding.

On average, a vampire must replenish the blood within their body approximately once a year. Because a vampire draws energy from the blood source, it is best for them to choose a younger victim in good health, rather than an older adult. A common myth surrounding vampires is the taking of blood by biting the jugular vein of its victim. Real vampires grow fangs for the purpose of self-defense, not for the taking of blood. If fangs were used to extract blood from the victim’s neck as portrayed in popular books and movies, the bite to the jugular vein would produce far more blood than a vampire could ingest during a single feeding. Additionally, a bite that opened the jugular vein would almost always prove fatal. An actual vampire typically relies on either a small dagger to open a vein in the victim’s arm or more commonly a needle. This allows the vampire to control the output of blood and only take as much blood is required to restore the vampire’s energy. It is not necessary for the vampire to kill their victim at the time of feeding; however, newly turned vampires have been known to kill in a feeding frenzy. Because vampirism is taboo in modern society, and because the vampire has a difficult time finding a willing partner in the giving of blood, they may turn to murder as a way to conceal their activities.

A stabbing pain spread through his stomach as if a hand grabbed hold of his guts and twisted.
That’s where I’ve heard of a needle before. When they recovered Cynthia Rhodes body in Maryland, the ME found needle marks in her arm, just like Stephanie Coldstone
. He scanned through the book until coming to a section titled, Avoiding Detection.

It is imperative for a vampire to fit into modern society without drawing attention. A vampire will find an occupation that does not produce suspicion, while allowing the vampire to work at night. The average vampire lives alone, in a home away from the general public that provides the privacy needed for hunting. They have few friends, although the vampire may become involved in a sexual relationship with a living human. A vampire must choose their victims with care, focusing on individuals who live on the fringe of society such as prostitutes, and avoid anyone whose disappearance would bring unwanted attention from the media or the police. A vampire will seek to gain the trust of law enforcement officers through cooperation and assistance. Because vampires are closer to the realm of spirits than the living, they are prone to see the spirits of their victims. This can prove unsettling for a vampire that has formed an emotional attachment with a person prior to killing them. With this in mind, vampires typically find ways to reunite the body of their victim with the victim’s family rather than risk continued visits from the spirit of their victim who is seeking peace.

Willard stared out the window. The afternoon sun beamed through the glass and perspiration dotted his brow. Heat rising like in the Eastern Mississippi woods, a flame that consumed the energy and hope of people with none to spare. He tried not to think about baking in his car as he considered what Mr. Howard had written. He snapped the book closed and tossed it on the seat. With a flick of the wrist he started the car and drove out of the parking lot. “You’re not writing about mythical vampires you no ‘count son of a bitch, you’re writing about yourself.”

Mr. Howard stood with his back to the class, staring at the floor. The top of his shoulders ached as if supporting a heavy weight. His students whispered, no doubt wondering what was wrong with him. All the while an expectation repeated inside his head.
Alicia Whitmore is going to lead the cops straight to me.

He recalled everyone he’d killed throughout the ages. Most of them were young women. Beautiful roses that withered at his touch.

Perhaps it is my time. I have been cruel and evil and must pay the price.

He’d never survive in prison. Where would he obtain the fresh blood his body required? There was an alternative. A stake to the heart and his problems were over, unless of course, the Devil had other ideas. Whatever the course, it ended with him burning.

It didn’t help his sullen mood that Ryan’s spirit appeared earlier inside the bathroom as Mr. Howard showered. Ryan whined and moaned about living in a hole in Mr. Howard’s backyard, and complained nonstop about his penis amputation. He continued to grumble even after Mr. Howard explained to Ryan that he didn’t need a penis in the spirit world. Getting rid of most spirits proved easy enough—once their bodies were reunited with their families they vanished like smoke in the wind. There were, however, exceptions. The ghost of Molly O’Neal haunted him for over five decades until he left Europe for America. She used to wake him from his dreams and follow him everywhere he went, singing:

Goosey goosey gander,

Whither shall I wander?

Upstairs and downstairs

And in my lady's chamber.

There I met an old man

Who wouldn't say his prayers,

So I took him by his left leg

And threw him down the stairs

If there was a way to murder a ghost, he would have killed her long before he moved.

“Mr. Howard, are you all right?”

Jennifer Tolliver stood nearby, eyebrows gathered as she considered him with a concerned gaze. The overhead lights cast a warm glow across her pale skin. Her beauty would have inspired the ancient poets. She was Helen standing on the wall of Troy, watching with trepidation as her beloved Paris battled Menelaus in a failed effort to end the war. A weak smile quivered on his lips. “I apologize. I did not hear you come into the room. Are you here to sit in on my class?”

“You invited me, remember?” Now her eyes held a wounded look.

“Yes, yes. Please, have a seat.” He motioned toward an empty spot on the front row next to Karen. Jennifer took a deep breath and exhaled with a soft puff before walking to the chair and easing onto the seat. Her gaze traveled to the short skirt riding up Karen’s thighs and she cleared her throat. Mr. Howard fought back a laugh as he strolled to the podium. Reaching into his pocket, he began to pull out his eyeglasses, and stopped upon seeing Jennifer watching him. He peered down at the open book, grateful he’d memorized nearly everything on the page.