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Contreras frowned. “It seems unusual that all of the bullets would be lodged in the victim’s head. We’ll see what the autopsy reveals. Did you get much?”
“Some fibers, blood samples—our victim put up a fight—a few hair samples, and what looks like saliva. Hopefully, that and the blood won’t all be his.”
“Right.” He scrubbed a palm over his face. “We’ve got to catch this fucking psycho before he strikes again.”
“We’re trying.” Roberto gestured to two men standing by a black vehicle. “They’re here to collect the body. Call me after the autopsy.”
“Will do,” he replied and watched as Anchondo strode away.
The coroner’s assistants unloaded a stretcher from the van and tugged it, the wheels clunking over the concrete pavement. Stone-faced, Contreras watched the men bag and load the body onto the gurney before sliding it into the vehicle.
Shaking his head slightly, he snapped his notebook shut and strode toward his car.
* * *
“The injuriesyou thought were gunshot wounds were blows to the head delivered with the claw end of a hammer,” Dr. Tom Haven said. “There were at least a half-dozen strikes to each side of the victim’s skull. It was brutal.”
“That explains why CSI didn’t find any bullets or casings,” Onofrio muttered. “What a sick bastard.”
The medical examiner leaned forward in his chair and propped both elbows on his desk. “The victim was also kicked in the abdomen so hard that it ruptured his liver. He put up a strong fight as evidenced by the defensive wounds on his hands and arms, but he was no match for the brutality of this attack. The multiple stab wounds were made after the victim died.”
Silence fell over the room as the detectives and the sheriff processed the victim’s last few moments on earth.
Wexler shook his head. “The level of rage boiling inside this perpetrator is dangerous.”
Contreras nodded. “To try and understand what type of emotions or anger are present in a person who could so something like this is beyond imagination.”
“And he is getting more vicious and bold,” Dr. Haven said. “There is no doubt in my mind that the person responsible for this murder was the one who killed the last four men. The method is the same, only with each killing, the brutality of the murder is becoming worse.”
“We have to find this psycho,” the sheriff said. “Any luck with the witnesses you interviewed?”
Onofrio shook his head. “No—no one said anything. The alley was behind a few warehouses and shops that were closed for the night. Felix and I will see if we can get anyone from the homeless population to talk with us. Someone has to have seensomething.”
“The hard part will be trying to get them to talk. Fear is a powerful thing,” Contreras added.
“Tom, do you have a time of death?” Wexler asked.
“Between one and four in the morning. The victim had only been dead a couple of hours before he was found. I’ll have my full report to you tomorrow morning.”
The sheriff rose to his feet. “Thanks.”
Contreras and Onofrio followed suit, and the three men walked out of the office and into the bright sunshine.
“Make sure your CSI team sends that report over to Christine Evans. She’ll be back from vacation on Monday.”
“Of course. She and Roberto have been comparing notes in the last two cases. He’ll bring her up to speed.”
“Sounds good. Do you guys want to grab some chow at Leroy’s in a few hours?” Wexler asked.
Contreras nodded. “That’ll work. Right now, Vince and I are going to see if we can get some of the street people to talk with us.”
“How long will you be sticking around town?”
“Tonight for sure, maybe tomorrow night, but then we’ll head back to Durango.”
“I know this guy’s going to strike again,” Wexler said, exasperation evident in his tone.
“It’s time to let the media in on this. The homeless in the area need to be aware of what’s going on and that there’s a dangerous person out there preying on them.”
