Damaged by Pamela Callow Page B

been severed by a bone saw,” he said, his voice puzzled.
    “A bone saw?”
    Dr. Guthro nodded. “Yes, like this.” He held up a small handsaw. It resembled a saw Ethan had in his shed.
    “How easy is it for someone to get a hold of one of those?” Ethan asked.
    Dr. Guthro pursed his mouth. “Not too difficult, I would think. They are found in any hospital. It wouldn’t take much to steal one.” Dr. Guthro pulled the skin back on one of the hip sockets. “But it wouldn’t have been used by just anybody. See this—” he pointed to the smooth bone beneath the pink tissue “—this is a very clean cut. It was done by someone who knew how to dissect a joint.”
    Ethan stared at the M.E. “You mean like a doctor?”
    Dr. Guthro nodded. “Yes. Or someone who is familiar with anatomy.”
    He turned to Lisa’s right shoulder. “There is one finding that is unusual. See this cut here?” He pointed to the joint.
    At first glance it looked as smooth as the other cuts. But as Ethan stared at it, he could see a small marking on the bone. “Is that from the teeth of the saw?”
    Dr. Guthro picked up a magnifying glass and held it over the bone.
    Ethan leaned forward to peer through it. “It looks like two lines with a circle in between.” He studied it for a moment longer, then stared at it incredulously. “Those aren’t geometric shapes. Those are letters.”
    Dr. Guthro’s fingers traced the small lines and curves engraved on the bone. “I think you are right. This one looks like an L. ”
    “And the next one is an O, ” Ethan said.
    “And another L, ” said Dr. Guthro.
    “LOL.”
    “His initials?” Lamond asked.
    “Could be. Or it could be an abbreviation for something.”
    There was silence. Then Ethan’s eyes met Lamond’s. “ LOL. Laugh Out Loud.”
    “Jesus,” Lamond murmured.
    “So the killer left us a message,” Ethan said. “A definite fuck-you if I ever saw one.” The back of his neck tingled. This was no ordinary killer. Lisa MacAdam had not been killed in a fit of rage, or as a result of enflamed passion. She had been killed and dismembered in a clinical, dispassionate manner.
    There was a psychological profile for a killer like that.
    Psychopath.
    “How did the killer make the marking?” he asked Dr. Guthro.
    “Looks like he used a scalpel.” Dr. Guthro contemplated the bone. He pulled down his face shield. “Let’s see what the internal examination tells us.”
    The assistant lifted Lisa’s body slightly off the table and slid a rubber brick under her back. Dr. Guthro cut a large Y incision on her torso. A rotting, sweet smell added a new foulness to the air. Ethan’s stomach churned. He had seen this procedure many times, but it still wasn’t pleasant.
    Lamond stepped back a little. Ethan noted he had moved closer to the garbage can.
    Lisa’s ribs were snapped with brutal efficiency by Dr. Guthro, and then the examination of her chest wall and abdomen began. Ethan watched silently as Dr. Guthro inserted a hypodermic needle into one of the veins below her clavicle. “Won’t even bother with the groin,” he muttered to himself. “Not much blood left.” He extracted a small amount for the toxicology tests and the DNAstandard they would use to confirm Lisa’s identity—as well as rule out the victim’s trace evidence against other trace evidence that might show up on or in her body—then sliced through the rest of the veins and arteries, removing her heart and putting it on a scale. Then he removed her lungs—“Doesn’t look like she was a smoker”—and began to work on her abdominal organs.
    When her stomach was sliced open, Ethan braced himself. The smell was awful. He glanced at Lamond. His face was pale and screwed into an expression that in normal circumstances would have made Ethan grin.
    “It would appear from the gastric contents that her last meal was ingested at approximately 6:00 p.m.,” Dr. Guthro said. He eyed the soupy mess. “Looks like