The City Beneath (12 page)

Sudden and complete memory loss is becoming a common calling card,
I thought.
Damn Dominic.
“Well, maybe the bodies will help.”

“We can only hope,” Dr. Chunn stated. “But, honestly, the evidence here only makes this case more confusing.”

“I'm guessing that's where I come in,” Walker interjected.

“Astute, as usual, Mr. Walker. We can begin with this one, if you'd like,” Greta said, pulling back the sheet on the nearest bed.

“Of course,” Dr. Chunn began, “Stephan Mathews, age thirty-six, died of cardiac arrest from blood loss.”

I'd seen my share of bodies at crime scenes and at the morgue, but seeing a dead body was gut churning every time. Five years had passed since I'd identified the bodies of my parents. Nothing could compare to the blow of seeing them white and still and somehow unreal, but seeing others in the same state on the same white sheets always brought back the roiling nausea, grief, and bone-deep anger.

I pushed back the memories and buried them beneath the anger, as usual, to focus on the present body. “Are the bites at his carotid the bites that killed him?” I asked, pointing at his neck.

“No,” Dr. Chunn said, her voice hardening. She pulled the sheet down farther. The man's arteries weren't the only part of him bitten. He was ravaged everywhere, worse than I'd been bitten. The vampires had feasted on him. His neck, arms, torso, stomach, and thighs had all been chewed raw.

This would have been my fate if Dominic hadn't found me in time last night. I pushed back another wave of emotion.

“The bite to his carotid was one of the first to occur, but one of the bites to his chest actually punctured the aorta. He died relatively quickly after that injury, if not immediately,” Dr. Chunn stated.

Walker pulled a large, black DSLR camera case from his briefcase along with a ruler, legal pad, several forms, and a pen. He slid the pen over his ear and unzipped the camera case. “May I?” he asked, stepping closer to the body.

Dr. Chunn waved him forward. “By all means. You have access to my reports and photos, as well.” She handed him a pair of latex gloves. “And we have the materials to make casts if you're still interested. My assistant said that you called ahead.”

“I did. She was extremely helpful. I'm most obliged to use your materials, ma'am.” He snapped on the gloves and measured the bites meticulously, noting the location and size of each on his forms. He placed the ruler on different places over the body while he took a variety of shots, but there were so many bites that the ruler often laid across one wound while he photographed another. I imagined him placing the ruler back in his briefcase and took a shallow breath against the nausea.

“Have you ever seen bites like these in a city?” Greta asked. “Could it be something as simple as someone's loose dog?”

“Or something exotic, like from one of the borough zoos?” Dr. Chunn added.

Greta shook her head. “We've checked the zoos. According to their records, all animals are accounted for.”

“I need to analyze these patterns for consistency before narrowing the possible species, but—”

“Consistency in what?” Greta interrupted.

“In bite radius.”

Greta's eyes widened. “You think there could be more than one animal loose in this city?”

Dr. Chunn blew the bangs out of her eyes. “It's difficult to accept that even
one
animal is out there, let alone a pack.”

“Where there's one, there could easily be more, and with this many victims, it's certainly possible,” Walker said grimly.

There certainly
are
more than one
, I thought miserably.

“See here? The animal appears to have exceptionally long canines.” Walker pointed to a particularly gnarly bite on the man's upper chest. “See the deep grooves there and there?”

Greta and Dr. Chunn nodded.

“In this bite, however,” Walker continued, pointing to a different wound, “the long canines are also present, but they're positioned differently in the mouth. They're closer together, implying smaller or narrower incisors, and therefore, a different animal. Just by a cursory examination, I can tell we're dealing with two animals, at the least.”

“Wonderful,” Greta whispered.

When Walker finished examining Stephan Mathews, we moved on to the next body and then the next in the long line of victims. Carl Rogers, fifty-two; Lillian Grat, seventeen; Ronald Ramirez, forty-five; Victor Jones, forty-three; Hanna West, thirty-nine; Frank Holand, twenty-two; Terrance Holand, twenty; and Jill Darby, fifty-one, had all died from either cardiac arrest or exsanguination. No connection could be found between any of the victims. They were from different neighborhoods, backgrounds, ethnicities, careers, and social circles. Vampires apparently don't discriminate against who they attack. Walker measured each victim's bites, notating page after page of descriptions and measurements.

Hanna West's bites were particularly difficult for Walker to measure. Her bites had more tearing and evidence of frenzied gnawing compared to the other victims. Walker worked with what he could measure on her neck and torso before folding the sheet down to examine her thighs.

Dr. Chunn turned from her conversation with Greta. “That victim doesn't have—” she began, but Walker had already pulled the sheet clear of her torso.

Hanna West didn't have legs. The pelvic bone socket was exposed. The skin where her hip should have dipped into her thigh was ragged; long, jagged pulls of flesh dangled over the wound and rested on the gurney, and between those strips of flesh was red, shiny muscle. I looked away quickly. My eyes caught on the basin next to Hanna's gurney.

“What parts of her legs did you find?” I asked carefully, trying to keep my voice modulated and my eyes focused on the basin.

Greta's voice was clipped and deliberately modulated, as well. “Not much. A few toes. The instep of her left foot. Her entire right foot. One of her knees.” She shook her head. “Not nearly enough.”

I nodded. “Why are her injuries so much more devastating than the others?”

“That hasn't been determined,” Dr. Chunn replied.

“If the other victims were already being eaten by larger members of their pack, assuming this was a pack attack, two predators of the same size will fight over food. This could result in a tug-of-war-style fight until one wins the prize,” Walker offered.

“Or until they each tear away a part for themselves,” I murmured.

“What pack of predators would be roaming Brooklyn?” Greta asked, perplexed.

Walker shook his head. “Hard to say, but I'm doin' my best to find out.”

When Walker was finished and the bodies were once again covered, Greta offered Walker copies of the police files, which included images taken at the scene. Walker met my eyes. I opened my mouth, but Walker shook his head. I'd snatch the files from him in private anyway, so I closed my mouth.

“Thank you very much, ma'am,” Walker said, sounding genuine, but the tone in his voice was more strained than usual.

I cleared my throat. “Yeah, thanks, G. I appreciate you calling me in.”

Dr. Chunn shook my hand. “It was a pleasure meeting both of you.”

“Thank you for allowing me to observe.”

“Of course. This was your call, Ms. DiRocco. Detective Wahl wouldn't have had it any other way,” she said.

I glanced at Greta and winked. “Always happy to oblige local law enforcement. You know my motto: shining light on Brooklyn's darkest secrets.”

“Yes,” Greta said, having heard my joke on several occasions. “I know your motto.”

I grinned and turned to follow Walker out of the room.

“DiRocco,” Greta called. “Can I talk to you for a moment in private before you leave?”

Walker glanced back at me, smirking like he'd gotten away with something that I hadn't. I ignored his look, turned on my heel, and followed Greta, feeling suddenly like a student following her teacher to the principal.

We walked into one of the other empty examination rooms down the hall, and she shut the door behind us.

“Why do I suddenly feel like I'm about to be interrogated?”

“Because you have goddamn good instincts,” Greta said, facing me squarely. “How the fuck did we miss the bites on these victims when we wrote the report on this case?”

I raised my eyebrows.

Greta sighed. “
We
as in my team.”

“I don't know who took point on your end,” I said, cringing inside for throwing her team under the bus, but who would believe the truth? “All I know is that when I wrote the article, the facts were clear and obvious. I had photos and recordings as proof. You know that I never supported that retraction.”

She narrowed her eyes and took a step forward. “And you don't know anything more about these bites? You can't confirm if it was an animal attack?”

“I wasn't at the scene during the attack, G,” I said, keeping my voice dry and sarcastic to cover my quickening heart. “How
would
I know?”

“You tell me.” Greta crossed her arms and waited.

I cocked my head to the side. “I arrived at the scene with everyone else. I wrote my article based on facts that you gave me. I don't know why you, your department, and even Meredith changed your minds, but I never did. I'm the only one who stood her ground and was right, so why am I the one getting squeezed right now?”

“I'm not giving you the squeeze, for heaven's sake, DiRocco. I'm just trying to understand.”

“If you want a clearer understanding about why the bites were missing from the report, maybe you should talk to the officer who wrote the report,” I suggested, feeling miserable. I'd been indignant about my article and the retraction, but if I'd known the endless pile of shit imbedded beneath the rubble, I never would've started turning up stones. When Dominic woke later that evening, most of the local law enforcement would once again know about the bites. He hadn't wanted to kill me before I started undoing all his handiwork, but he'd surely want to kill me now.

“Believe me, I intend to.” Greta swiped a hand down her face. “Let me know if your digging unearths anything. Stay in touch with me on this one, all right?”

“Yes, ma'am,” I said in my best Walker twang.

Greta grunted. “Get out of here.”

Walker was waiting in the lobby for me, and when the receptionist buzzed me through the locked double doors, he stood and walked me outside.

“You didn't have to wait up, but I appreciate the gesture,” I said, reaching for the police reports.

He held them out of reach. “Hands off.”

“I just want to see how the vampires altered the pictures,” I said, still reaching.

“They didn't alter the pictures. They altered everyone's mind, so their brains couldn't see the truth in the picture.” He pushed me back. “These are confidential. I need them for my research.”

“Yes, I'm sure researching the bites will be a lot of hard work for you,” I grumbled.

“It will, actually,” Walker said, falling into step beside me. “Even if
we
already know the cause, I still need to report something plausible to the authorities, and I need to find something that another expert, if called in, can verify.”

“That doesn't sound easy,” I admitted.

“More like impossible. So, like I said, I still have to do the research.”

I puffed out a long breath. “Jesus. Everything is so screwed up.”

He nodded. “What did G want with you?”

“She doesn't like that she and her officers missed the bites, not that I blame her. And, of course, she knows that I know more than I'm telling her.”

Walker took hold of my upper arm and stopped walking. His grip was gentle but firm, so I had to stop in the middle of the sidewalk to face him. “What did you tell her?”

I raised my eyebrows and glared at the hand holding my arm, but he didn't budge. “I stalled and blamed her team for missing obvious evidence, but that's not enough to satisfy Greta. She's going to ask more questions when you give your report. Impossible questions to which we unfortunately know the answers.” I shook my head. “How long can we possibly play dumb?”

“Forever. Remember, we're just as dumbfounded by the evidence as everyone else.”

“That might go over fine for you, but I blew my cover from the start by requesting that autopsy,” I griped. “Greta's already questioning why I know so much about this case when she and her department know so little.”

“What are you trying to say? That you want to tell her the truth?”

I shook my head. “I don't know what I'm trying to say. No one would believe the truth. And if they did, the vampires would mesmerize them and wipe their memories anyway. Unless we find a defense against the vampires and undeniable proof of their existence, telling anyone the truth is an exercise in futility.”

“Agreed.” Walker stroked his thumb over my skin while still holding my arm. “What are you doing tonight?”

I frowned. “That's none of your business.”

“I'm certainly making it my business. You're the only other night blood in New York,” he said, grinning.

I sighed heavily and finally admitted out loud what I'd been too scared to admit over the phone with Nathan. “That's not entirely true. I think my brother might be a night blood, too.”

Walker's hand stilled on my arm. “You think or you know? Did you talk to him about it?”