Mostly Murder by Linda Ladd

town, right? Let’s go to the Bayou Blue , okay?”
    â€œYou bet. I need some downtime, too. Black’s coming home late afternoon on Tuesday. So I’m all yours tomorrow. After seeing what I’ve seen today, I am definitely ready for some fun.”
    â€œGreat, me, too. Get on some gear and let’s get this done.”
    Claire was not thrilled, not one iota, but she donned the protective garb and breathing mask and trailed Nancy into the autopsy room. Finding a crime victim, stabbed or burned or strangled to death by some psychopath, was enough tragedy for her, but standing around watching already abused bodies being sliced, diced, and put on little glass slides didn’t remotely ring any kind of happy bells. Autopsies were not trips to Disney World. She’d seen lots of horrible, inhumane things done to other human beings during her career. More than she could count. Zee was even more resistant about venturing into Nancy’s domain of the dead. He did everything he could not to step into the room filled with its sickening odors of antiseptic and death and chemicals, so this time Claire bit the bullet for him. Next time, it would be his turn to enter the dead zone.
    Claire stood across from Nancy at the steel autopsy table. “Okay, I’m ready.”
    Nancy nodded, settled the microphone headset, and switched on the tape recorder. Claire fixed her own breathing gear more securely as Nancy gave the date and place of autopsy.
    â€œThe body is that of Madonna Christien, a Caucasian female homicide victim. Observing is Detective Claire Morgan on lend from the Canton Country Sheriff’s Office in Missouri and lead detective in the investigation. Measurements indicate the body weight at ninety-nine and one-half pounds; height is five foot and one-half inch. The body shows signs of progressive deterioration. Eyelids and lips have been sewn shut with heavy embroidery thread. Time of death is not definitive, but is estimated at three to five days.”
    Nancy continued, each step precise and meticulously documented, but Claire only stared at the severe bruising on the body, distinct and graphic and brutal. Abrasions and contusions mottled the sloughing skin. Along with the serious head injuries, the poor girl had been pummeled with doubled fists or some kind of blunt weapon until she stopped breathing. The extensive injuries fit very well with the disarray at the Carondelet murder scene.
    Claire’s guess was that the assailant had thrown Madonna’s slight body around and slammed her repeatedly into walls and furniture, and her bruises certainly bore proof of it. Which meant whoever the perpetrator was, he had to be strong. On the other hand, Madonna Christien was a tiny little thing. So small that she could have been overcome by a female perpetrator, especially if dazed by an initial head injury. Her fingernails were broken and ragged, indicating that she had fought desperately against her assailant. Nancy had taken nail scrapings, and Claire hoped that the victim had managed to get her assailant’s DNA.
    Nancy continued her description. “The skull and facial bones are damaged and swollen. A gaping five-inch laceration appears on the back of the head. There is a hemp rope secured tightly around her neck, indicating probable death by asphyxiation.”
    Picking up a small pair of scissors from the instrument tray, Nancy carefully snipped through the black threads holding the eyelids closed. She put down the scissors and lifted the victim’s right eyelid with a gloved thumb. “After cutting away the thread holding the eye together, petechial hemorrhaging is observed, also an indication of death by strangulation, as is the bruising around the throat and the discoloration of the facial skin after the paint was removed.”
    Claire watched and wondered about Jack Holliday. Was he really capable of inflicting these massive injuries to a woman half his size? Maybe a guy