Page 95 of Sharp Force

“The crime scene unit’s already searching the tunnel,” he says. “I walked through it with them, a lot of dusty old rooms that once were treatment areas. It leads directly to the administrative wing of the hospital.”

As I listen, I’m seeing something strange. Using plastic tweezers, I grip a white cylindrical object embedded deep in a bite wound on the left buttock. I extract what looks like a snapped-off animal incisor.

I hold it up to the light, and it’s polished smooth, about half an inch long and sharply pointed.

“What the hell?” Marino says in amazement. “It looks like a freakin’ vampire fang. Or a fang from a wild animal.”

“Definitely not real. Fake like special effects teeth actors wear,” I observe. “Something like acrylic, maybe three-D printed. Explaining the weird bite marks we’ve been finding.”

“He’s biting his victims with fake teeth?” Marino is incredulous and spooked at the same time.

“Part of his elaborate sexually violent fantasies,” Benton says. “A new one for the books.”

He looks on as I drop the bloody broken fake tooth into a small cardboard evidence box Marino holds open for me.

“This is someone with rituals that mean something intensely personal to him,” Benton continues. “He does the same thing every time. Only the violence is escalating. He’s getting more out of control.”

“Definitely the Slasher,” Marino says. “Whoever killed her also killed the other three.”

“I agree,” Benton says.

“Since the fake tooth was embedded deep in tissue, maybe the bleach didn’t get to it,” I tell them. “Maybe we’ll be lucky with DNA for once.”

“We need to find out what kind of crap Zain’s been buying off the internet,” Marino says.

“Already being looked into,” Benton says. “Every purchase he’s been making. And agents are searching his apartment in Williamsburg as we speak.”

“Are they finding anything interesting?” Marino looks at him. “Maybe a three-D printer? Maybe extra sets of fake teeth? Maybe bottles of lab-grade bleach?”

“Nothing like that,” Benton replies.

“If you’re about ready,” Marino says to me, “I’ll get her moved out and into the van. Clark Givens can help. Then he can do his thing with the laser scanner while Fabian drives the body to the office. Doug Schlaefer’s there waiting with bells on.”

“The linens go in with her. Same thing we’ve done before.” I step out of the bedroom. “When the body is in transit, let Doug know. He can get started right away charting her injuries. That’s going to take a while.”

I’m curious about her gastric contents, also what’s in her small intestine. I want a STAT alcohol level, I explain, as Marino sends a text with my instructions.

“If you’re done in here, I want to show you something,” Benton says to me. “Zain’s bedroom.”

“You go ahead, Doc,” Marino replies as if I need his permission. “I’m heading outside to deal with Fabian and Clark.”

CHAPTER 31

Changing our PPE, Benton and I begin climbing the uncarpeted oak stairs. I notice faint smudges almost indistinguishable from the dark wood. Possibly dirt. Or scuffs vaguely squarish. Maybe from the heel of a shoe and barely visible.

Pausing to open my scene case, I get out the bottle of Bluestar. The smudges glow sapphire blue as I spray the chemical reagent.

“Possibly blood,” I tell Benton. “Marino didn’t notice.”

“Understandably. I almost can’t see whatever it is. If it’s blood, is it recent?”

“I don’t know.”

He watches as I swab suspicious areas on the first three steps, the cotton tips turning a dirty deep red.

“The smudges get fainter as we go up.” I shine a flashlight on the steps as we follow them. “Now I’m not seeing anything at all.”

“The implication’s not good,” Benton says. “Did Zain kill her, then head back up to his room, tracking blood on the steps?”