my promises. And as for Dr. Osborne and me… well, we are finished here, according to Osborne. What do you say, Jessica?' asked Repasi. 'Are we finished?'
''Toxicological reports?''
'Indicate sedatives, a heavy dose,' replied Repasi.
'Don't suppose you could possibly tell me if there were any needle marks below the scorched skin?'
'Impossible with the equipment here,' Repasi apologized, but it didn't sound apologetic. 'Still, I found a bruise to the temple after noticing a slight indention.'
'In all that crinkled flesh? Good work,' Jessica complimented Repasi.
'Blood indicated the same high level of sedatives,' added Osborne. 'Some consolation in that nerve endings would've been dulled when it happened. And time of death was as indicated by the fire call.'
'Her nerve endings weren't so dull she didn't scream, Lester,' Jessica countered.
He curtly returned with, 'You know what I mean.'
'Yeah, I do, and I agree with Lester, Karl. We know what killed her. She sounded doped up when she spoke to me. I doubt the internal organs can tell us a thing more than we already know, and given the state of the body… well, it's already disfigured beyond recognition, wouldn't you say?'
'Not entirely,' replied Osborne's quiet assistant as he put away some instruments he'd just cleaned. 'Her father identified her around four this morning.'
'That's what held up the autopsy,' explained Repasi, speaking over the assistant. 'We're given to understand that everyone and everything in Las Vegas waits on this tyrant named Frank Lorentian. As for the autopsy, I think we'd best be complete and thorough. I thought thorough was your trademark, Jessica.'
She ignored this, continuing, 'And I'm sure the family is anxious for Lester to release the remains to them, right, Lester?'
'As a matter of fact, yes. Mr. Lorentian's quite unhappy with us all.'
J. T. added, 'So, she was related to this big casino family.'
'Closely, I'm afraid.'
'The big man's daughter,' added Repasi. 'Read as much in this morning's paper.'
Lester said sadly, 'She'd been in the process of running away, it appears.'
'How old was she?'
'Nineteen, dressed older but quite… immature, I'm given to understand. Frank Lorentian's known for being a doting father,' Lester replied. 'Lavished everything on her but what she truly needed, I suppose… At any rate, she was rebellious, wanted to make a life on her own, outside Vegas, you see, away from her father's lifestyle, so she disguised herself, struck out on her own, but didn't get very far, as you see.'
'How long had she been reported missing?' asked Jessica.
'Four days, according to Missing Persons.'
'I'm sure Lorentian has a few enemies,' suggested J. T.
'He isn't buying that theory,' Repasi replied. 'A kidnapping for ransom, he believes maybe, but not a hit to hurt him. He and the types he runs with, according to Lorentian, know not to mess with family, if you get my drift.'
'But he could be wrong,' J. T. replied.
'But there were no ransom notes, no demands?' asked Jessica.
'No, none forthcoming.'
'Then it tracks back to me,' she said, stepping closer now to the shriveled body of the dead woman. From the look of her, she'd been tall, about Jessica's own height. Her bone structure told Jessica that she was curvaceous, but what remained of her features left no clue as to her beauty or lack thereof. All that remained was a blackened, red- and brown-splotched mask of mottled and fire-bronzed cardboard, the epidermal layer of skin as burned away as the woman's clothes, all to feed the smoking inferno. Her eyes had, of course, been reduced to sockets, the soft tissues having sizzled away like bacon on a hot griddle, the oils easily feeding the flames. Still, somehow, the ugly, eyeless mask looked as if she were crying-impossible and quite unscientific, of course, yet very arresting. Of course, it was simply fatty tissues frozen in a moment of time-at the flash point of superheated air-intermingling with the natural bodily decay. There was no crying corpse here.
'Bring me up to date, gentlemen, please,' Jessica requested.
'Well, no gunshot wounds, no contusions, abrasions, or hammer blows to the skull, nothing to indicate death before the fire reached her,' answered Osborne.
'Except the single sharp blow to the temple, which I detected,' corrected Repasi.
'I was getting to that, Karl,' said Osborne with a moan. 'The temple blow may've stunned her, but it wasn't a killing blow. That's clear.'
'Fire investigation team found traces of butane, just as Fairfax had predicted, along with the gasoline.' Repasi spoke in a near whisper in Jessica's ear. 'Fairfax has quite a nose for such things. What do you think that might suggest?'
J. T. shrugged. 'What do you mean, Fairfax's nose or a butane lighter? Neither fact is of much help.'
''No, the traces of butane were at much greater concentration levels than caused by a lighter, and no lighter was recovered from the bed.'
J. T. exchanged a look of confusion with Jessica before asking Repasi, 'Then they're clearly saying that our killer used some sort of butane torch?''
'That's what Charles Fairfax believes,' Lester Osborne replied, and believe me, Charlie's the best fire investigator in the city. He's an old friend of mine, and he was in the hotel… for the convention.'
Repasi quickly added, 'I'd seen him in the casino, so I had him paged when I saw what I… we had.'
Lester nodded, saying, 'Karl knows I don't even step into a fire-death scene until Charlie's completed his work. Saves me oodles of time and effort.'
'And, last night, more time at the gambling table as luck would have it, right, Les?' Repasi teased. Repasi then turned to Jessica and said, ''We told Lester here what you told us; told him about the whooshing sound you heard over the phone.'
Jessica's eyes glazed over in thought as she pictured a butane torch with a long wand so the killer wouldn't burn his pinkies. Then he leans in over the smoldering body and sticks his fingers into the soup he's created of the victim to pen his cryptic message.
Repasi pushed her buttons further, asking, 'Don't you see, Dr. Coran? You say you heard a great whoosh of air over the phone just before she screamed? Don't you see? Fairfax's instincts verify what you heard, Doctor,' Repasi told her.
'That sounds about right, Karl. Now, is there anything else you two wish to share?' asked Jessica, trying to remain calm.
'Her hands were tied with a man's tie, her feet with a belt, and small remnants of a handkerchief were found amid the charred bedclothes.'
'Any prints on any of these items?'
'None.'
'Burned away, wiped clean, or he wore gloves.'
'The phone?' she asked.
'''Nada.''
''All carefully planned down to the nth detail, and then he leaves prints in the message,' Jessica said, wanting to curse the bastard responsible for this, responsible for killing Chris Lorentian for what appeared to be a random selection just to taunt Jessica Coran into giving him her undivided attention. Or did the killer know Chris? Was the charade some sort of attempt to hide the true nature of the murder?
'How did you know there'd be prints in the message?' asked Repasi.
Osborne added, 'Yeah, Jess, where did that come from?'
'I smelled it, realized it was grease from fatty tissues. I just took a wild guess.'
'Some wild guess,' replied Osborne with a little shake of the head.
'I'd like to talk to Lorentian myself. Learn what I can about Chris. See if it helps,' she suggested.
'My secretary outside has his number,' replied Osborne. 'Feel free.'
Repasi followed her to the door and stopped her, asking, 'Are you making it an FBI matter?'
'I think the killer already has, don't you?'
