Wounds by Alton Gansky

the house, can’t get you to leave a crime scene, can’t pry you out of the office. You’re a difficult woman to move.”
    She bit into the sandwich. Perfect. Much better than a six-month old granola bar. “Took you longer to get back from the ME than I thought it would.”
    â€œHe’s a little upset about the nature of the crime. You’d think a man who has seen what he has wouldn’t let such things bother him.”
    â€œIt was especially brutal.” Carmen spoke around the food in her mouth.
    â€œThat’s a fact. You just saw the outsides. His innards were a mess. Blood in the lungs, liver perforated, spleen damaged, broken bones . . . well, you heard that part.”
    Carmen opened the file and was greeted by a photo of the deceased with his chest cut open. More disturbing was the damage done to the face. Had the man lived, he would have had to endure a number of reconstructive surgeries. She hoped Jews believed in closed-casket funerals. She chewed her food and glanced at the other material in the folder.
    â€œI got copies of the X-rays because I wanted you to see this. I’ve been thinking about it on the drive back. This is a crime of passion. This man wasn’t killed in anger. Doc thinks it was a protracted beating. It was torture. Look.” He picked up a print of the digital X-ray.
    Carmen saw a rib cage that looked as if someone had taken a baseball bat to the man’s chest. “Any trace?”
    â€œNot on the body. We looked for wood fragments . . . we looked for everything. Doc is a thorough man. I was in the room when he called you, so I know he mentioned the fist imprint. A monster fist. We’re looking for a brute. King Kong’s little brother. Look at the ribs. See how they’re busted up? Doc thinks the perp strung the guy up and went all heavy weight on him.”
    â€œHe told me that.”
    â€œWhat he didn’t tell you was the thought that went into the beating. You may want to put your sandwich down for this.”
    â€œI can take it.”
    â€œSuit yourself. Here’s what we think happened. Black Hat abducts the vic, subdues him, maybe knocks him out with a blow or maybe sedates him somehow. Tox will tell us that. Anyway, the guy is hanging by his wrists, arms over head, exposing the rib cage. Our guy starts his workout, first punching the torso in such a way that the ribs snap. There’s no indication that he used any blunt instrument other than his fist. But he’s not done, see. He then starts aiming at what are now free-floating ribs.”
    â€œWhy would . . . oh.” Carmen set her sandwich down. “You’re telling me this guy was trying to drive rib fragments into the vic’s lungs?”
    â€œAnd liver. The guy flailed the chest. He pounded on the sternum so it cut into the liver. So the vic begins to hemorrhage.”
    â€œThat’s sick.”
    â€œThere’s more. Look at this.” Bud pulled another X-ray from the folder. This one showed two busted up legs. He then pulled photos of the victim’s bare legs. He pointed at several spots on the photo. “See these bruises?”
    â€œThe short stripes? I see them.”
    â€œNotice the roundish bruise above it. Notice anything weird?”
    â€œNo—wait. The skin is broken at one of the stripes.”
    â€œLook closer and you’ll see that’s true for two of the marks. Now, this is where you jump up and sing my praises. The short, rectangular strips are from the protruding sole of a work boot. The semi-round bruises are from the steel toe of the boot.”
    â€œYou’re guessing.” Carmen was impressed. “But it’s a great guess.”
    â€œGreat? It’s brilliant! We can’t prove it—yet, but I think it’s on the money.”
    â€œSo the killer pounds the body with his fists then changes it up to break the victim’s legs by repeatedly kicking him?”
    â€œYou