Ruins of War by John A. Connell Page B

German advance and their march into Paris. I managed to get out in the nick of time and make my way to London. Then I got assignments covering the London Blitz, and it took off from there.” She caught Mason staring at her. “What?”
    Laura so beguiled Mason that he hadn’t realized he was staring at her. “Nothing,” he said as nonchalantly as he could.
    “All right, boys, that’s enough about me. I want to find out how the murder investigation is going.”
    “You know we can’t divulge anything about that,” Mason said.
    “Off the record, then,” Laura said and held up her right hand. “I promise.”
    “Go ahead, Chief, tell her,” Wolski said. “Maybe she can see an angle we haven’t thought about.”
    Mason still hesitated.
    Laura continued to hold her hand up as if swearing a solemn oath. “Off the record is off the record. Honestly. I wouldn’t be able to do my job very well if I betrayed that.”
    Mason signaled Wolski with his eyes that Anna shouldn’t hear what he was about to say. Laura picked it up right away. “Anna,” she said, “why don’t you wait a few minutes in the ladies’ lounge. I’ll come and get you when we’re finished.”
    Anna glanced at Wolski, who nodded. She looked disappointed, but she left the table and headed for the ladies’ lounge.
    “Okay,” Mason said, “off the record is one thing, but before I go on, I have to ask you not to share this with anyone else. No one. Something like this could create a panic.”
    When Laura agreed, Mason described what they’d found in the factory, how the body was mutilated and displayed on the column, the precision cuts, the severed limbs displayed in the bizarre fashion, the hours of torture the victim had likely endured. He told her about the body in the sewer, and that in all probability it was a victim of the same killer. “I’ve seen and heard about butchering murderers before, but nothing like what this killer does. I think this is just the beginning.”
    “Like Jack the Ripper?” Laura asked.
    “I don’t get how anyone could kill like that,” Wolski said. “And this one being a doctor, for chrissake. Doctors are supposed to save lives.”
    “You think he’s a doctor?” Laura asked.
    Mason said, “According to the medical examiner, every cut the killer made was surgically precise. The guy didn’t just cut off the arms and legs, he surgically removed them.”
    “Some people think Jack the Ripper was a doctor,” Laura said. “Then there’s the doctor everyone’s talking about in France; they’re saying he could have killed up to seventy men, women, and children. It’s all over the French press.”
    “His surgical skills and the fact that he can move around at night after curfew points to someone in an army uniform. In all probability, someone in the U.S. Army Medical Corps. We’ve checked MP and CID arrest records and looked for any open murder cases suggesting a killer with surgical skill, but nothing turned up. This killer has been able to elude detection and probably has no previous record. We need to get into medical personnel files and search for criminal background checks, psychological profiles, reprimands, disciplinary actions, anything that might hint at someone liable to commit this kind of murder. . . .”
    “Only we can’t get clearance to access medical personnel files,” Wolski said. “Our commander has put that strictly off-limits. They’re okay with us searching for a suspect as long as he’s not American.”
    “Hm,” Laura said, tapping her fingernails on the tabletop, a faraway look in her eyes.
    “What is it?” Mason asked.
    “I have an idea . . . if you’re open to it.”
    “Shoot,” Wolski said eagerly.
    Laura looked to Mason, who nodded for her to go on.
    “Let’s make a deal,” she said. “I get you access to the medical personnel files, and you give me exclusive access to your investigation. I get to know what you know, but I don’t publish anything until