style="font-size:15px;"> It was morning, and Riley felt remarkably rested herself. Her bed had been soft and comfortable, and neither nightmares nor real intruders had disturbed her sleep. She had badly needed a night like that. Lucy and Chief Alford also looked alert – but the coroner was another story.
“This is as bad as Marla Blainey’s murder five years ago,” Tooley said. “Worse, maybe. Lord, after that one, I’d hoped we’d put this kind of awful thing behind us. No such luck.”
Tooley showed the group a close-up of the back of the woman’s head. A large, deep wound was visible, and the surrounding hair was matted with blood.
“She sustained a sharp blow to the left parietal bone,” he said. “It was hard enough to crack the skull slightly. Probably caused concussion, maybe even a short interval of unconsciousness.”
“What kind of object was used?” Riley asked.
“Judging from the pulled hair and scraping, I’d say it was a blow from a heavy chain. Marla Blainey had the same kind of wound in about the same place.”
Alford shook his head. “This guy is all about chains,” he said. “Reporters are already calling him the ‘chain killer.’”
Lucy pointed to some tight close-ups of the woman’s abdomen.
“Do you think she was beaten generally, over time?” she asked. “Those bruises look bad.”
“They’re bad, all right, but they’re not from being beaten,” Tooley said. “She’s got contusions like that all over from being chained so tightly. Between the chains and how tight the straitjacket was, she spent a lot of time in severe pain. Same with Marla Blainey.”
The group fell silent for a moment, mulling over the significance of this information.
Finally Lucy said, “We know that he’s small and not very strong – and we’re assuming that it really is a ‘he.’ So it looks like he must’ve subdued each of the women with a single sharp blow to the head. When they were dazed or unconscious, he lugged them into a nearby vehicle.”
Riley nodded with approval. It struck her as a good guess.
“So how was she treated during her captivity?” Alford asked.
Tooley shuffled the photos to reveal images of the dissected body.
“Pretty badly,” he said. “I found almost no stomach contents. Not much in her intestines either. He must have kept her alive on water alone. But he probably wasn’t trying to starve her to death. That would have taken much longer. Maybe he was just trying to weaken her. Again, it was the same with Marla Blainey. The slashed throats were the decisive and fatal blows.”
Another silence fell. There was little left for anyone to say, but much to think about. Riley’s head was abuzz with too many questions to ask. Why did the killer hold these women captive? The usual motives didn’t apply here. He didn’t torture or rape them. If he’d always intended to kill them, why had he taken his time about it? Did it take time for him to build up the will to do that?
Obviously, she thought, the killer was obsessed with rendering his victims helpless. That gave him some kind of satisfaction. He’d probably suffered similar helplessness himself, maybe in childhood. She also suspected that he’d starved the victims for other reasons than simply to weaken them. Had the killer been starved himself at one time or another?
Riley stifled a sigh. There were so many questions. There always were this early in a case. Meanwhile, there was a lot of work to do.
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