It was the first time David had seen her lose her temper.
'… didn't want to scream,' Sandra said. 'Didn't want to open my mouth so he could throw the stuff down my throat.' A halting breath. 'I don't want to be like Nancy.' Her voice went high, and broke, so her next words were almost soundless. 'Oh God. Oh God.'
'You're all right.' David wanted to stroke the unmarred side of her face, feel it soft beneath his fingers, but he did not. 'Nothing went in your eyes or down your throat. You just sustained burns on one side of your face, which we have under control.'
'It stung,' Sandra said. 'It stung so bad but I couldn't scream. I couldn't open my eyes.' A single tear beaded at the pointed corner of her eye and streaked down her perfect cheek. David wiped its trail away with his thumb, wanting to keep the cheek pristine.
'Why did someone do this to me?' Her head rolled loosely to the right so she was facing him. The blistering had blown her cheek out of shape-a weeping, pitted bulge of ruby and white. Much of the hair had fallen from the side of her head. The flesh at the base of her ear had been eaten away, the divots pooling with serous fluid and saline. Her tragus was burnt down to a small nub.
David felt himself shot through with a burst of anger so sudden and intense it left him nauseous. He shook his head and laid the backs of his fingers across the unscathed skin of her forehead. 'I don't know.'
His legs were shaking when he rose from his crouch.
Dalton tossed the In-N-Out bag in Yale's lap. Yale quickly picked it up, trying to work a spot of grease out of his pants with a fingernail.
'Sorry,' Dalton mumbled. He raised the remaining crescent of double cheeseburger to his mouth and angled it in.
Yale glanced inside the bag, closed it, and set it aside on the bench. He stretched his legs, running his eyes around the grassy quad of the Medical Plaza.
A burly male patient in a hospital gown flirted with a nurse near the wide steps of the hospital entrance. He leaned in to whisper something to her, and she drew back slightly.
Dalton wiped his nose with his sleeve. 'I took another look at the construction guys on Le Conte. Two of them have arm tattoos, but neither one resembles a skull. One of the guys is a parolee, got popped for a B and E in '96, but he's alibied three times over. Other guy's tat looked like jailhouse ink. I'm gonna run him, but he's also got a solid alibi.'
'We're looking for a disorganized offender,' Yale said. 'He's smart enough to wear latex gloves, but discards evidence at the scene. I think he gets close to the victims by necessity-he's not sophisticated enough to figure out how to do dirty work from afar.'
'I don't know about that. There's a hundred easier ways to fuck someone up.' Dalton sighed. 'It's just too bad neither vic got a good look.'
Yale signaled to Dalton that he had a crumb on his cheek. 'That could be something psychological, not just strategic.' He pressed his fists together, lining up the knuckles. 'Maybe there's another motivation to his not wanting to be seen. Maybe he's got some physical impairment he's ashamed of.'
'Limp or something?'
Yale shook his head. 'Probably not. Too memorable. Someone would've noticed-and remember, he's vanished into thin air twice. I'm thinking something less immediately visual. Something you only notice if you talk or interact with him. Glass eye. A lisp. Bad acne. Something. I think he doesn't want to be seen. I think he's afraid to be seen. Self-conscious. Avoids eye contact. As soon as the victims are aware of him, they have Drano flying in their eyes.'
'Not a single fucking eyewitness. The goddamn ER doesn't post guards at the doors. Everyone comes in in their vehicles, so the guys in the parking kiosks are the gatekeepers. No one walks to the ER.'
'God bless LA,' Yale said.
Dalton scratched his head. 'Well, now that we have two vics, at least we can rule out a personal attack on Nance.'
'I don't know,' Yale said. 'We gotta cross-check records, see if there's any patients both Nancy and Sandra Yee treated. Could make sense. Nurse and doctor. Maybe they fucked someone up, pissed him off.'
'They're reading like crimes of opportunity to me. We've found no evidence to show he stalked either of the victims. And believe me, me and Jenkins dug hard for any unusual shit in Nance's life.' Dalton picked a loose string off his shirt. 'I think anyone who stepped through the ER doors into the ambulance bay at that moment was gonna catch the faceful of lye. Yee just got unlucky.'
'Smoking kills,' Yale said.
'I think he would've hit anyone.'
'Male or female?'
'Crimes like this, I'd guess he's at least sex-specific.'
'Yeah.' Yale nodded. 'Yeah.'
Dalton pushed a hand through his hair, leaving his bangs sticking up on one side. 'Maybe he's got a vendetta against the hospital.'
'Or nurses, or doctors. Or professionals, for all we know. Like you said, he's not picky with who he's hit so far. Tall Caucasian nurse and a short Asian doctor. Sounds like a porn.' Yale popped a smile, then lost it at Dalton's glare. 'Gallows humor. The one saving grace of the job. Lighten up. I want to bust the piece of shit as much as you do.'
'You may want to bust the POS,' Dalton said, 'but I got three years in uniform with her brother, and I've eaten food off her table after more than one graveyard shift. I'm looking forward to losing a few bullets in this guy's skull.'
'I understand,' Yale said. 'But that's of little utility.'
Dalton glanced down at the ground, his neck wrinkling into another chin, and scratched his forehead. Then he nodded.
'Both assaults occurred during conventional work hours,' Yale said. 'Maybe our boy's unemployed.'
'That would fit the low sophistication level of the crimes.'
'The fact that we're dealing with an insecure, disorganized offender tells us something about the victims he chooses. And the locale. They'd both be within his comfort zone. This isn't the kind of guy to stray to new territory to hit his marks.' Yale took in the breadth of the plaza. 'I think he knows his way around here, maybe even works nearby, and he's familiar with doctors and nurses.' He tapped his chin with a knuckle, a rare inexpedient gesture. 'We should check records for plaintiffs in malpractice suits against the hospital.'
'Though pursuing legal avenues would imply resources and wherewithal not necessarily in keeping with our profile,' Dalton added.
'True.' Yale snapped his gum. 'I'm thinking he's too old to be a student at UCLA, but we probably can't rule it out given we're right on campus. You talk to CAD?'
'They're running a PACMIS and a CCAB, seeing if anything rings the cherries,' Dalton said. 'Should hear back tomorrow.' When the Crime Analysis Detail officer put the alkali assaults through the Police Arrest Crime Management Information System and the Consolidated Crime Analysis Database, similar crimes in the area would show up immediately. The list would include anything in Westwood, on campus or off.
Dalton sat on the bench beside Yale, and they watched the burly patient near the hospital steps try to embroil a passing woman in conversation. She smiled curtly and kept walking. 'Could be anyone,' Dalton said. 'Could be that fucker right there.'
Yale shook his head. 'No sir. Our guy fears women. That guy… ' He stabbed a finger in the man's direction. 'That guy's got confidence.' A note of admiration found its way into his voice. 'He'd be a keeper and a player, not a hit-and-runner. He'd be a Bundy. Our guy's a welfare Berkowitz.'
Dalton stared hungrily at Yale's unopened In-N-Out bag. 'The alkali came back from lab. Danny said they're all pretty much sodium hydroxide and sodium hypo-something, but the surfactants are different. Our boy's using DrainEze. Ever hear of it?'
'No.'
'Exactly. Aside from being sold in a few drugstores, it's mostly used institutionally. Schools, factories, warehouses… '
'And hospitals.'
