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Authors: Thomas Laird

BOOK: Cutter
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Chapter Two

 

He was reading poems to me as we headed toward the Lakeshore. Doc, the PhD copper with the degree in English Literature from Northwestern University in Evanston. He was reading poetry to his guinea homicide brother detective. Some Polish woman who’d just won the Nobel Prize for Literature in Stockholm, Sweden. I told him the Swedes are better known for big tits and manic depression, but he never skipped a beat, he just went on reading to me until we arrived on scene.

He was driving our new squad car — a navy blue Taurus that any street cheesedick could make as a copper ride in less than a heartbeat. But we’re homicides, so we didn’t usually have to sneak up on anyone’s ass.

We saw the lights and the yellow barrier ribbons as we came to a halt. I saw my temporary partner from a few years back. Jack Wendkos. He worked a double homicide with me when Doc was supposedly retired in order to finish his thesis at that very expensive university, north of the city. Doc never landed a teaching position, so he came moping back to homicide just in time to help me finish off several murders at a place called Cabrini Green. It was the time I lost two women inside twelve calendar months. First my wife, Erin, died of breast cancer. Then the woman I fell in love with later on found a way to get herself removed from my life via a street punk named Abu Riad. But that was another thing altogether.

‘Jack. How’ve you been?’

‘Jimmy. Just fine. I see the senior partner is still breathing.’

‘Hiya, sonny. What’ve you got for us?’ Doc cracked.

‘I don’t know that I can describe this one for you, Lieutenant Parisi.’ Wendkos grinned. It was one sorry-assed grin, too.

‘That bad?’ I asked.

He headed toward the victim.

‘Jesus. Holy Jesus,’ Doc lamented. I mean he truly sounded sad, moved. And he’d seen more stiffs than I had by a far piece.

The plastic had already been removed from her remains, and I felt as if the air had been sucked out of my lungs.

‘Oh my,’ was all I managed. I couldn’t come up with any on-site quip.

She was torn open from the throat to the pubic hair. Now I knew why all the uniforms were keeping their distance from this victim. They didn’t want to become ill: it was considered pussy to lose your dinner in front of a trio of homicide investigators.

I noticed the half-dozen or so stab wounds below the slit that had eviscerated this young woman. I also saw that her eyes were closed. Interesting. Either the knife guy closed the lids, which I doubted, or she was knocked out while he did his cutting.

‘Yeah. Her eyes are closed. I can see that,’ Doc told the forensics officer. ‘See if you can get any prints off the lids or off the eyeballs.’

The evidence copper was not enthusiastic about getting very close to our corpse. He looked like he was becoming a bit green. But he was part of the same fraternity we were and he clenched his cojones and decided he was not going to back away like some of the uniforms had. 

Doc put his latex on and so did I. Jack Wendkos had the gloves on when we arrived.

‘Beautiful girl. She was until a little while ago, anyway,’ Wendkos said.

‘The ME is en route?’ I asked Jack.

‘Yeah. He’s on the way. I’m sure he’ll look into an assault. But other than the stab wounds and the gaping slice, it doesn’t appear that she was cut or abused elsewhere. At least I couldn’t make any bruises, contusions or whatever.’

Jack was a blond Polski with an oft-broken nose from his days in Golden Gloves. He took a second at his peak, and the guy who took first in that same bout ruined an otherwise GQ-handsome puss. He’d look like an actor if it weren’t for the mauled beak.

Dr Gray pulled up just then. He strode slowly toward us.

‘Why is it that we never meet socially?’ The doctor grinned. ‘I always get to say hello to you all in front of some flat-on-her-or-his-ass stranger ... What’ve we got?’

He never waited for an answer. He always went right at it. When he found out what he was after, he had some of the quickest response time I’d ever seen from his branch of the department.

‘We’ll have to wait to see on the sexual contact, if there was any. I can’t make a quick visual, Jimmy. Even with the klieg lights it was too hard to see. But it looks like he was a cutter, not a putter.’

It was his little bon mot for a rapist. No one ever laughed. Including Dr Gray. He was a very serious medical examiner.

When we’d scoured the immediate area, we wrapped it up when Gray said his preliminaries were finished. The doctor came up to Gibron, my partner, and Jack Wendkos. It seemed that Jack had been assigned by our red-headed Captain to assist us.

‘She is missing some equipment, Jimmy. Boys, there are some missing parts in this stiff. I know because I took Anatomy. Got an ‘A’ in dissection, too.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I asked the ME.

‘There are a few organs missing is what I mean. As in major organs that are required to keep the motor running. As in liver, one of her lungs, and the big pump, as well.’

‘Her heart?’ Jack asked.

‘Yes indeed. The crux of her very being. The very subject of all that Valentine’s Day malarkey. The pump that pushes that serum through her arteries — at least, it pushed all that blood around sometime earlier in the day ... I’ll give you a call, Jimmy. Doc. See you, young Officer Wendkos.’

He walked toward his car. He never turned back to us.

‘Don’t even say it,’ I warned Doc.

He wanted to hit me with the FBI attitude. But he had nothing good to say about the FBI and neither of us liked working with the Fibbies. The only Federals we really respected were the US Marshal’s people. Most of the hackers and cutters we got were not nearly as flamboyant or bizarre. We got guys who sliced and diced and chopped, but had an average IQ of about twenty in the hole. No super-villains or geniuses.

‘So is it a sex thing or a control thing or is it all or none of the above?’ Doc mused out loud.

Jack Wendkos snapped his latex and Doc and I involuntarily jerked to attention.

‘That’s a good way to get your ass shot off on a site like this.’ Doc smiled. It was another particularly lame grin he shot us.

‘Sorry,’ Jack told us. Then he walked toward his vehicle. ‘I’ll see you both downtown in a few minutes.’

Doc removed his gloves smoothly and quietly.

‘So you don’t think this cutter eats what he kills,’ Gibron murmured.

I snapped off my pair of latex, and it caught my senior partner off guard, just like Jack had.

‘Goddammit, that ain’t funny at all, Jimmy P.’ 

He looked spooked, truly scared, so I didn’t press my luck. This had been the most silent crime scene I’d ever worked.

The specialists had the body bagged, and they were putting her aboard the retrieval vehicle. Some people — old-timers — still call it a hearse.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

Ther
e
wa
s
a
wa
r
fo
r
m
e.
Ther
e
i
s
alway
s
a
wa
r
fo
r
a
ma
n
i
n
thi
s
countr
y.
I
t
wa
s
fough
t
ove
r
th
e
usua
l.
Propert
y.
Texa
s
Te
a,
mor
e
specificall
y.
Oi
l.
Mideaster
n
blac
k
gol
d.
W
e
kille
d
a
quarte
r-
millio
n
Iraqi
s.
I
t
wa
s
lik
e
poppin
g
mallard
s
i
n
a
barre
l
.

I
wa
s
a
medi
c.
Th
e
medica
l
fiel
d
seem
s
t
o
hav
e
bee
n
m
y
callin
g.
N
o
pu
n
intende
d.
I
t
too
k
m
e
jus
t
si
x
month
s
t
o
ge
t
mysel
f
canne
d
fro
m
me
d
schoo
l.
I
t
seem
s
I
ha
d
a
dru
g
proble
m.I
sa
y
‘seems

becaus
e
I
wasn’
t
th
e
on
e
wit
h
th
e
proble
m—
m
y
customer
s
ha
d
th
e
addiction
s,I
didn’
t.
Th
e
peopl
e
a
t
th
e
U
wer
e
no
t
a
t
al
l
forgivin
g.
The
y
threatene
d
t
o
pu
t
th
e
polic
e
o
n
m
e
i
f
I
didn’
t
leav
e
th
e
schoo
l
immediatel
y,
s
o
i
t
wasn’
t
a
s
i
f
I
ha
d
a
choic
e.
Whic
h
le
d
m
e
eventuall
y
t
o
wher
e
I
a
m
toda
y.
Yo
u
migh
t
sa
y
I’
m
a
n
‘arm

o
f
th
e
medica
l
professio
n
.

I
t
wa
s
a
pit
y
tha
t
I
washe
d
ou
t
o
f
th
e
busines
s.
N
o
one’
s
bette
r
wit
h
a
knif
e
tha
nI
a
m.I
ca
n
cu
t
yo
u
an
d
yo
u
don’
t
fee
l
th
e
incisio
n
unti
l
yo
u
se
e
yoursel
f
leakin
g
al
l
ove
r
th
e
floo
r.
I’
m
tha
t
goo
d.
N
o
shi
t.
Tha
t
goo
d
.

Wha
t
I
d
o
i
s
calle
d
immora
l,
bu
t
I
don’
t
se
e
i
t
a
s
an
y
mor
e
horribl
e
tha
n
wha
t
w
e
di
d
t
o
thos
e
poo
r
raghea
d
bastard
s
i
n
th
e
Gul
f.
The
y
cam
e
ou
t
o
f
thei
r
hole
s
wit
h
thei
r
hand
s
hig
h
i
n
th
e
ai
r
beggin
g
fo
r
u
s
no
t
t
o
slaughte
r
the
m.
The
y
wer
e
jus
t
a
s
innocen
t
a
s
th
e
innocent
s
I
mee
t
u
p
wit
h
i
n
m
y
ne
w
busines
s
ventur
e,
s
o
who’
s
t
o
sa
y
what’
s
murde
r
an
d
what’
s
justifiabl
e
homicid
e?
I’
m
n
o
lawye
r,
bu
t
I
don’
t
se
e
muc
h
distinctio
n
betwee
n
th
e
killing
s.
Th
e
governmen
t
sai
d
i
t
wa
s
al
l
right so we cappe
d
a
quarte
r-
millio
n
san
d
nigger
s.I
d
o
a
littl
e
busines
s
o
n
m
y
ow
n
an
d
I’
m
lik
e
tha
t
ga
y
blad
e
fro
m
Victoria
n
Englan
d.
Yo
u
hav
e
t
o
admi
t
tha
t
th
e
lin
e
I
walke
d
acros
s
i
s
rathe
r
blurre
d,
don’
t
yo
u
?

I
t
i
s
wha
t
I
d
o,
afte
r
al
l.
An
d
a
ver
y
goo
d
livin
g
i
t
i
s.
Al
l
I
nee
d
i
s
a
littl
e
ethe
r
an
d
on
e
workabl
e
blad
e.
Ther
e
ar
e
n
o
middleme
n
o
n
m
y
en
d
.

Th
e
remarkabl
e
thin
g
i
s
tha
t
the
y
al
l
com
e
runnin
g,
literall
y
runnin
g,
t
o
m
e.I
neve
r
hav
e
t
o
see
k
possibilitie
s.
The
y
fin
d
m
e
a
s
surel
y
a
s
i
f
I
wer
e
a
huma
n
magne
t
.

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