else, something like vinegar.’
‘You’ve got a good nose, Hunter,’ Doctor Winston said pointing to one of the corners of the room. ‘That jar over there, it was full of vinegar. You can also smell it over her body, predominantly on the top half. It looks like the killer poured it over her skinless face at set time intervals.’
‘Vinegar also works as a fly repellent,’ Hunter said.
‘That’s correct,’ Doctor Winston confirmed. ‘Now just imagine the sort of pain she had to go through. All the nerves around her face were completely exposed. Even a small gust of wind would’ve caused unbearable pain. She probably passed out several times, or at least tried to. Remember, she had no eye lids – no way of keeping the light away, no way of resting her eyes. Every time she regained consciousness, the first image she’d see would be her disfigured naked body. I’m not even gonna go into what sort of pain the acidity of vinegar poured over open flesh causes.’
‘Jesus!’ Garcia said taking a few steps back. ‘Poor woman!’
‘Was she conscious when she was skinned?’ Hunter asked.
‘Not without being anesthetized, but I don’t think she was. I’d say she was drugged, knocked unconscious for several hours while this psycho went to work on her face. After he was done, she was brought up to this house, tied to the posts and tortured some more until she died.’
‘What? You don’t think she was skinned in this house?’ Garcia asked, looking confused.
‘No,’ Hunter replied before Doctor Winston had a chance to do so. ‘Look around. Check any room you like. Not even a speck of blood anywhere except directly under her body. True, I’m sure the killer cleaned up after himself, but this isn’t the place. Correct me if I’m wrong, doc, but skinning a human being is a complicated process.’
Doctor Winston nodded in silence.
‘The killer would need surgical equipment, operating room lights, not to mention a lot of time and knowledge,’ Hunter continued. ‘We’re talking about one highly skilled psychopath here. Somebody with a great knowledge of medical practices. She wasn’t skinned in this house. She was tortured and killed here.’
‘Maybe the killer is a hunter. You know, knowledge of skinning animals?’ Garcia suggested.
‘Could be, but that wouldn’t have helped,’ Hunter replied. ‘Human skin doesn’t respond the same way animal skin does. Different elasticity.’
‘How do you know that? Do you hunt?’ Garcia asked intrigued.
‘No, but I read a lot,’ Hunter replied casually.
‘Plus animals are dead by the time they’re skinned,’ Doctor Winston carried on. ‘You can simply rip the skin off with no concern for the animal’s life. Our killer kept the victim alive and that is a very delicate procedure in itself. Whoever this person is, he knows medicine. In fact, he’d make a very good cosmetic surgeon, except for the job on her teeth. They were simply pulled out, no finesse, but maximum pain.’
‘The killer didn’t want us to identify her,’ Garcia concluded.
‘He left her fingers intact,’ Hunter shot back after quickly checking her hands. ‘Why take the teeth and leave the fingerprints?’
Garcia nodded in agreement.
Hunter walked around the two wooden poles to have a look at the woman’s back. ‘A performing stage,’ he whispered. ‘A place where the killer’s evil could come alive. That’s why she was brought here. Look at her, her position is ritualistic.’ He turned to face Captain Bolter. ‘This killer’s done this before.’
Captain Bolter didn’t look surprised.
‘No one could’ve handled this sort of pain in silence,’ Garcia commented. ‘This is the perfect place, totally secluded, no neighbors, no one to walk in on the killer. She could’ve screamed her lungs out and no one would’ve come.’
‘The victim, do we have anything on her? Do we know who she is?’ Hunter asked, still examining the woman’s back.
‘Nothing so far, but we haven’t run her prints through yet,’ Garcia answered. ‘Our first look through this house has given us zip, not even a piece of clothing. She obviously didn’t live here and searching the house for any clues on her identity is probably a waste of time.’
‘Do it anyway,’ Hunter said firmly. ‘How about missing persons?’
‘I’ve fed her initial description into the Missing and Unidentified Persons Unit database,’ Garcia replied. ‘No matches yet, but without a face . . .’ Garcia shook his head as he considered the impossible task.
Hunter took a few seconds to look around the room before his eyes rested on a window on the south wall. ‘How about tire tracks on the outside? There looks to be no other way of getting to this place except for that narrow lane. The killer must’ve driven up here.’
Captain Bolter nodded slightly. ‘You’re right. That lane is the only access to this house and all the police and forensic units have driven up and down it. If we had anything, it’s been covered up. And I’ll be having some asses for this.’
‘Great!’
The room fell silent. They’d all seen it before. A victim that had no chance against a deranged opponent – a blank canvas painted with the striking colors of death – but this seemed different, it felt different.
‘I don’t like this,’ Hunter broke the silence. ‘I don’t like this at all. This isn’t your regular spur of the moment homicide. This was planned and for a fucking long time too. Just imagine the kind of patience and determination it takes to pull something like this off.’ Hunter rubbed at his nose. The stench of death now getting to him.
‘A crime of passion perhaps? Maybe someone just wanted revenge over a broken affair,’ Garcia offered a new opinion.
‘This is no crime of passion,’ Hunter said with a shake of the head. ‘No one that’d been in love with her would be able to do something like this. No matter how hurt he was, unless she was dating Satan himself. Just look at her, this is simply grotesque and that worries me. This ain’t going to end here.’
Hunter’s words sent a new chill into the room. The last thing the city of Los Angeles needed was another psychopath killer on the loose, someone wanting to be the next Jack the Ripper.
‘Hunter’s right, this isn’t a crime of passion. This killer has done this before,’ Captain Bolter said finally, moving away from the window. His statement stopped everyone in their tracks.
‘Do you know something we don’t?’ Garcia asked the question on everyone’s lips.
‘Not for long. There is one more thing I want you to see before I let the forensic boys in here.’
Hunter had been intrigued by that since his arrival. Usually the forensic team checks the scene before the detectives are allowed to walk all over the evidence, but today the captain wanted Hunter in there first. Captain Bolter rarely broke protocol.
‘On the back of her neck, have a look,’ he said tilting his head towards the body.
Hunter and Garcia exchanged a concerned look before approaching the dead woman once again.
‘Give me something to lift her hair up with,’ Hunter called to anyone in the room. Doctor Winston handed him a metal retractable pointer.
As his flashlight illuminated her now exposed neck Hunter’s mind went into a whirlwind of confusion. He stared at it in disbelief – the color drained from his face.
Garcia didn’t have a clear view from where he was standing, but what disturbed him was the look in Hunter’s eyes. Whatever Hunter was staring at, it had scared him soundless.
Six
Despite being thirty-nine years old, Robert Hunter’s youthful-looking face and impressive physique made him look like a man who’d just hit thirty. Always dressed in jeans, T-shirt and a beat-up leather jacket, Hunter was six foot with squared shoulders, high cheekbones and short blondish hair. He possessed a deliberate controlled strength that came across in every movement he made, but it was his eyes that were most striking. An intense pale blue that suggested intelligence and an unflinching resolve.
