The Fregoli Delusion by Michael J. McCann

they
got in, Karen started the engine and cranked up the air conditioning.
    “As far as I’m concerned,” she
said, “Holland’s alibi was bought and paid for, and he’s a lying son of a
bitch.”
    Hank buckled up.
    “Come on, Lou. My gut’s telling me
Brett Parris was right on the money.”
    “We’re going to need a hell of a
lot more than a gut feeling.”
    “Understood. I’m not a fucking
rookie.” She threw the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. She drove
in silence for a block before looking over at him.
    “You just watch me,” she said.
“I’m going to peel that bastard Holland like an onion.”

 
    11
    The body of Herbert Joseph Jarrett
had already been the subject of intense scrutiny at the Glendale Forensic
Medical Center for several hours on Friday morning before Hank arrived at 1:00 p.m. to attend the autopsy . It had undergone the normal external
examination, including complete photography, clothed and unclothed, weighing
and measuring, fingerprinting, fingernail scraping, washing, and a thorough
visual examination noting every feature, no matter how small and innocuous. Dr.
Sarah Chalmers, assistant medical examiner, presided over this stage of the
proceedings, assisted by Harry Shaniwatru, the diener of Thai descent who boxed
professionally in the flyweight class in his spare time. Harry was the most
trusted of the attendants on staff at the center, and so it was a foregone
conclusion he would be the one called in to assist.
    After Chalmers pronounced this
phase of the external examination complete, Harry then wheeled the corpse down
the hall for full-body computed tomography, at which point Dr. Jim Easton
joined Chalmers and the head radiologist, Dr. Paul Oldfield, to pore over the
resultant imagery while Harry patiently moved the body next door for x-rays.
Easton was of the belt-and-suspenders persuasion when it came to the death
investigation of the fifth-richest person in the state and didn’t think twice
about the expense of running both the CT scan and the x-rays. It was crucial
that he be able to answer every possible question that would be raised in this
case, and he needed to be able to say he’d left no stone unturned.
    As a result, when Hank walked into
the main autopsy theater at three minutes after one o’clock, tying his
protective gown behind his back, Easton and Chalmers already had a very good
sense of what they would find when they dissected the body.
    “Ready for the big show?” Easton
eyed Hank over the gold wire frames of his glasses. His voice was slightly
distorted behind the mask that covered the lower half of his face.
    “Ready when you are, Jim,” replied
Hank, putting on a pair of latex gloves.
    “We’ve already covered the virtual
dimension,” Easton said, “and I’m prepared to cut you a break. The deceased
sustained a single gunshot wound to the left temple, and other than the
expected injury to the back of his head where it struck the ground when he
fell, there’s nothing else of note. This, in and of itself, should be of
interest to you, I’d think.”
    “No signs of a struggle or a
fight, nothing defensive.”
    “Exactly.”
    “You’re suggesting the shooter
deliberately brought the gun to the scene with the intention of using it?”
    “I suggest nothing. I’m a
scientist, pure and simple. I leave the speculation to you. And so, being the
considerate person that I am, I’ve decided to start our dissection with the
head so you can get your hands on the bullet and get the hell out of here.
Sarah, show him the CT images while Harry and I get started.”
    Chalmers led Hank over to a
MacBook set up on a trolley close to the autopsy station to enable the
pathologists to consult still images from the CT scan as they proceeded with
the dissection. “The x-rays are there,” Chalmers said, pointing to the x-ray
view box mounted on the wall near the head of the dissection table.
    A strand of her wavy red hair
threatened to escape from