Jump The Line (Toein' The Line Book 1) (20 page)

Chapter 17

Doc says our per
p’
s a mixed offender.  H
e’
s complicated, as in Ted Bundy complicated.  Good to know, but i
t’
ll make solving this case within Captain Meye
r’
s timeframe a bitch, if not impossible.  To make matters worse, I do
n’
t like the way Do
c’
s asking if
I’
v
e“
trouble
d”
myself to go see the latest vic in the morgue.  H
e’
s an irascible condescending bastard.  I might have to show him
I’
m not the barbaric gumshoe h
e’
s pegged me.

What the hell?  Wh
y’
s he acting so pompous?
 “
Not up close and personal
,”
I tell him.
 “
Other than the glimpse I got in the alley last night, I have
n’
t seen the vic.  Not yet.  All
I’
ve got are pictures the coroner faxed me early this morning
.
”

But the way Bite Doc just ordered me to his la
b’
s got me worried.

Instead of going off on him for the remark about seeing a lady even I am not likely to seduce, I say nothing and follow the cave bea
r’
s trail.  Did
n’
t I promise to ignore my heartburn if I could walk away from here with something that advances my investigation? 

Yep, I did.  Following Bite Doc across his lab, I polish off a couple of Rolaids.  We stop in front of a wall of glass-encased shelving, and I wait for him to unlock a cabinet. 

“
Fascinating work you do here, Doc
,”
I say, gazing at the macabre collection of artifacts from various victims Bite Do
c’
s identified for NPD and other law enforcement agencies.

He just harrumphs. 

On display are the plastic impressions of cadaver
s
’ bite wounds captured for posterity.  The
y’
re made of a pinkish-white rubbery material.  Ther
e’
s also an array of stone molds, made from the impressions of victim
s
’ teeth.  Row upon row, all the garish items sport labels marked with a black pen in Bite Do
c’
s spidery scrawl.  To him, this collection represents pieces of forensic evidence, a fascinating puzzle needing solved.  To me, it looks like prostheses from a Hollywood set for a Rob Zombie movie flick.

“
These are impressions of Meer
a’
s bite wounds
,”
he says, selecting a rubbery set. 

I’
m familiar with Meera, Megal
o’
s first victim.  We found her in the alley behind Oma
r’
s several weeks ago.  We just saw photos, so
I’
ve no idea why Bite Doc wants me to look at Meer
a’
s impressions, but
I’
ll go along.  H
e’
s the expert.

Selecting several more rubbery impressions from a shelf, he walks me back across the lab.  Laying them down gently, protecting his precious stainless steel exam table, he chooses one of the impressions resembling a bleached pile of grotesquely etched doggie bile.  Using his scalpel, he points out an indentation.

“
I took this impression from Meer
a’
s mouth at the morgue.  Here, in her maxillary arch, the upper jaw, right quadrant if yo
u’
re facing her, you can see that your perp has removed Meer
a’
s first and second bicuspid
.
”

“
Ah-huh
,”
I say, following along. 

The Rolaids not yet working, my stomach begins churning, adding to my unease.  The impressions all look the same to me, but following Bite Do
c’
s busy scalpel and looking carefully I at last see the deep slash h
e’
s indicating.  It moves upward and then disappears into two gullies inside Meer
a’
s gum line, or what was once her jawbone. 

“
I get what yo
u’
re pointing to, but wha
t’
s your analysis, Doc?  What exactly am I looking at
?
”

“
These are the sockets that held Meer
a’
s teeth.  H
e’
s cut out these two.  Here, the first bicuspi
d
”
—
scalpel poin
t
—
“
and here, the second
.
”

I’
m not easily alarmed, but when I see the slashes, I ca
n’
t stop my heart from racing.
 “
Why?  Why would he do this to these girls
?
” 

“
Perhaps, Detective Hawks, h
e’
s keeping their teeth as trophies.  Hmmm
?
”
 
Bite Doc smiles.  I
t’
s condescending.  That smile says, Must I do
all
the thinking?

All that matters to me is penetrating the mystery of Bite Do
c’
s weird brain, grasping the pattern of the neurons fired by his obsession with forensic dentistry.  And then, also, walking out today with something to move my case forward.  So I hold my temper.

Wh
y’
n hell did
n’
t I go to the morgue before coming here and look inside Angie Mille
r’
s mouth? 

“
What else, Doc
?
” 

I might as well hear the worst, I decide, since
I’
ve been such an ass.  But I do
n’
t ask how much worse this can get. 
I’
ve been working the homicide gig long enough to know.    

“
H
e’
s taking teeth ante mortem, before sh
e’
s dead
,”
he explains for my benefit
,“
and without using anesthesia
.
”

Bite Doc just confirmed my worst fear. 

“
Meer
a’
s mouth was filled with blood when I visited her in the morgue
,”
he adds.

The explanatio
n’
s unnecessary, but I listen anyway, humbled.  I really shoul
d’
ve gone to the morgue and looked inside my vi
c’
s mouth before visiting Bite Doc.  It woul
d’
ve saved him some explaining this mornin
g—
and me some embarrassment.

“
Cadavers do
n’
t bleed
,”
Bite Doc explains, drilling down unnecessarily on my stupidity
,“
so blood inside Angie Mille
r’
s mouth proves her teeth were cut out while she was alive
.
”

“
Uh-huh
,”
I agree.  This is gruesome, even for me.  My anxiety skyrockets, my heart rate slamming along with it.  I ca
n’
t take anything having to do with teeth, especially cutting or drilling.  The root canal I had in my teens traumatized me.  But this perp has cut out the vi
c’
s teeth while she was still alive.  And without anesthesia. 

“
This line
,”
Bite Doc continues
,“
is the incision from the knife, or perhaps . . . a scalpel, which he used to extract the teeth.  Now recall
,”
he adds
,“
Meera is missing two teeth in her upper right quadrant as yo
u’
re facing her
.
” 

I watch, fascinated.  Bite Doc pulls another rubber impression from his Meera collection, giving me an even clearer view.
 “
If you take time to pay a visit to your latest victim
in the morgue
,”
he emphasizes
,“
yo
u’
ll find Angie Miller is also missing her bicuspid and lateral incisor, but in the upper left quadrant as yo
u’
re facing her
.
”

My heart rate climbs.  I feel a mounting desire for several beers with the guys this evening.
 “
But, Doc, why cut out two teeth
?
”
 
If I had
n’
t been in homicide the last six years,
I’
d think it a mighty damn illogical thing to do.
 “
Why not remove just one?  Or three?  Hell, why not remove all of them
?
”

“
Detective, dentistry is an art of extreme symmetry.  No one with your per
p’
s obsession with pain would pull just one tooth, or even two from just one victim.  That would be . . . completely imbalanced artistically. 

“
In time
,”
he adds, watching my face
,“
I suspect h
e’
ll pull enough teeth from his victims to complete a full set of teeth from sixteen adults.  Most likely, all female
.
”
 
He chuckles, watching me frown.
 “
To keep things balanced, Detective Hawks, but you would
n’
t get that, would you
?
”

“
Sixteen . . . victims?  All women
?”
I ask, ignoring Bite Do
c’
s jab.

“
Yes
,”
he says, clearly exasperated.
 “
Sixteen.  All women
.
”

My stomach churning, I run my tongue over my teeth in an attempt to do the math.

“
That would be thirty-two
,”
Bite Doc says, not bothering to suppress another chuckle.  I ca
n’
t lay my finger on it, but for some reason h
e’
s pissing me off all over again.  I
t’
s the persistent way he looks so damn superior, like
I’
m some provincial rube misfortun
e’
s plopped within his worldly sphere of influence.

“
You have thirty-two adult teeth, including your wisdom teeth, assuming you have not had any pulled
.
”

What kind of man would do this? 

I force myself to a cold steely calm, to a guiltless plane where my own male sexual fetishes feel petty. 
I’
m
nothing
like Megalo. 
I’
ve got an over-active libido, yes. 
I’
ve got a foot fetish, too, bu
t—
giving myself a pat on the shoulde
r—
i
t’
s okay to want a woman, or two, or even three or four, as long as I respect her as she deserves.  As long as I never hurt or harm her.

I’
m coming for you, Megalo.
 

I
t’
s my job. 
I’
m going to find out what kind of sick bastard would do something like this to an innocent girl, and
I’
m going to catch and lock up his ass. 

“
Jesu
s
—
”
I start to say, but catching the blasphemy before it escapes my lips, I instead make a mental note:
I’
ll rabbit to the morgue soon as I get done here and get a look inside the latest vi
c’
s mouth.  Although
I’
ve little doubt h
e’
s right, i
t’
ll help me confir
m—
or den
y—
Bite Do
c’
s theory that Megalo is removing the vic
s
’ teeth while the
y’
re still alive.