cops and the FBI out after a maniac—while stealing human organs? There’s huge money in it.”
They all considered it for a minute. “It’s certainly possible. Doc, what about the first victim?” Keenan asked.
“Very similar.”
“Same organs taken?”
“Yes,” Beau said.
“Removed elsewhere, and the body brought to the dump site?”
Fred cleared his throat. “Yes. Very little blood found at the site.”
“But the organs were cleanly removed. Possibly kept in usable shape?” Keenan asked.
Beau Simpson nodded gravely. “Um, Jess Marlborough’s body is still here,” he said quietly. “There’s been no one to claim her. And we’ve stalled...hoping someone might show up.”
“She did look just like this,” Fred said.
“May we see her?” Keenan asked.
Beau nodded gravely. He nodded to his assistant to cover up the remains of Billie Bingham and led them from the autopsy room to another that held a wall of small freezers. Beau headed straight to one whose location he appeared to know well. He pulled out the drawer and gently removed the sheet that covered her.
Jess Marlborough’s face hadn’t been as badly slashed as Billie Bingham’s. She had been young, only twenty-eight, Keenan knew from the notes he had studied. All traces of makeup were gone, and it was easy to see at some point she had been a pretty young woman with rich, curling black hair. Her mouth—despite the slash that ran through it—had probably easily turned to a smile, he thought. She was a bit haggard—the cost of life on the streets—but somehow, no matter what she’d been doing, he had the sense that she had been hopeful.
From the neck down, she did look much the same as Billie Bingham. Torn apart, organs removed so that all that remained was a strange shell of flesh and cracked bone.
He thought he heard Stacey make a little sound. The contrast between the still-pretty face and the destroyed body was somehow more shocking than the previous corpse they’d seen. Not that any one death was any more or less heinous than another, but because even after such butchery, it was obvious the victim had been young and full of life, and time should have stretched before her.
They were done here, Keenan determined. They had learned all they could.
They thanked Beau and headed out.
“We’re going to Fairfax to attempt a meeting with Cindy Hardy,” Keenan told Fred. “You remember the case?”
“Sure, I remember the case. Wife of a slimy politician. Wronged and then threatened with a lawsuit. I thought she left this area long ago. But you know the news here. Something more outrageous each day, and thus even the outrageous is forgotten. I should have thought of her after the identification was made on Billie Bingham. But I don’t see a woman, a tiny woman, managing all this. Unless she had help.”
“Always possible. You’re welcome to come with us. And I’ll notify your counterpart in Virginia, Jean Channing,” Keenan said. “We all need to be sharing information.”
Fred nodded. “I’ll let you take this on. I’m going to follow up on Jess Marlborough.”
Stacey nodded. “Her friends, coworkers...someone has to know something.”
“There is already fear on the streets,” Fred noted. “After this, it may be hard to get anyone to talk to us.”
“Jess Marlborough. Twenties,” Stacey said, looking to them both. They stared back at her. She sighed with a bit of exasperation, Keenan thought. “Young. In good health. She was just down and out. She wasn’t an addict. She’d offer good organs.”
Fred nodded gravely. “You’re right. But the media has named the man, and everyone is hooked on the notion we have a psycho on the loose. Well, sorry, whether there’s an agenda here or not, anyone who can do that to another human being is a psycho to me. But we’ll investigate known associates. I’ll get you a list. Seems like she crashed at an apartment with some other girls in a rough section of town. But I’ll also list local convenience stores and such.”
“Thanks. We’ll get out there by tonight or tomorrow. Fairfax isn’t far. And we could hit a wall with Cindy Hardy. We’ll be back soon. Thanks, Fred.”
“No, thank you,” Fred said. “This thing... Man, it’s got to be solved—fast.”
He started out; they turned and headed for their own company vehicle.
“Why are they always black SUVs?” Stacey muttered, sliding into the passenger’s seat.
He was surprised that he smiled. “This is DC. I’m not sure you’re allowed to drive anything other than a black SUV or sedan with tinted windows.”
She smiled and nodded, not looking his way as they moved