“The boys being banished was the blushing bride’s idea,” said Stuart Mastro. “Garrett called to tell us but his heart wasn’t in it. That’s Garrett.”
“Goes with the flow.”
“That’s one way to put it. He doesn’t have strong opinions on much except the Dodgers and the Lakers.”
Marilee said, “You’re making him sound insipid, hon.” To us: “Garrett’s smart and sweet but not a fighter.”
Stuart said, “Goes along to get along.”
I said, “That’s not the bride.”
A beat. Stuart shook his head.
Marilee said, “I’m sure she’s a fine person. We don’t really know her that well.”
“Not a lot of contact before the wedding.”
“The two of them visited my parents on Thanksgiving and Christmas and that was about it. Apparently her parents aren’t big on family holidays, they were off on some sort of vacation.”
I said, “So pretty limited contact.”
Stuart said, “Never met her parents before today, only met her twice. Our conclusion was they’re superficially a cute couple.”
“Superficially.”
“First impressions are by nature superficial,” he said. “Now that I see them together, I’m assessing that they’re totally different from each other. But maybe opposites can attract.”
I said, “Can you think of anyone who’d want to destroy their wedding?”
“By murdering someone?” he said. “That’s kind of flat-out insane, no?”
Milo said, “You heard there was a murder.”
Stuart blinked. “Well, no, I didn’t. What we were told was someone died and then detectives showed us the photo of that girl. With all the police presence plus detectives it’s pretty obvious this wasn’t a slip-and-fall or a suicide, right?”
Milo said, “Mind taking another look at the photo?” He handed it to Mastro.
“Yup, that’s the postmortem look. I know it because third year in med school I took an elective with the Riverside County coroner. Nope, same answer, never seen her.”
He passed the shot to his wife. She said, “We were just discussing it before you called my parents over, and no one on our side has any idea who she is.”
I said, “Should we concentrate on the bride’s side?”
“I’m not saying that — actually, I guess I am. Simply on a probability basis. Nearly everyone here is from her side.”
“What’s the breakdown?”
“Our side is basically us and a few of Gar’s college buddies.” She looked at Stuart.
He said, “If there are a hundred people here, my off-the-cuff would be eighty-five to them, fifteen to us.”
I said, “We noticed there were plenty of bridesmaids but no ushers.”
Marilee Mastro said, “Another official policy, she thought it would take up too much time. Though to be fair, Garrett’s never been real social. Maybe she’ll draw him out.”
“If opposites attract,” said Stuart, “these two sure have a chance to prove it.”
Marilee said, “Given how few of us are here and the fact that your victim’s a young woman, wouldn’t you say she’s more likely to tie in with Brears? Not that I’m pointing fingers.”
“At this point, Dr. Mastro, any information is welcome.”
“I wish I could give you more, Lieutenant. It really is a horrible thing. Brears was so into it.”
Stuart shook his head. “One day in their lives, it’s the rest that count. If there’s nothing else, Officers, can we find out how our little savages are doing?”
The table was down to Leanza Cardell still playing with her hair and studious Amanda Burdette, who’d produced a yellow felt-tipped marker and was underlining. As Milo got up to head there, he was distracted by something to his left.
CSI Peggy Cho, still suited and gloved, caught his attention with an upright index finger. We went over and she said, “A couple of things came up, probably better to talk up there.”
We followed her out of the big room and up the stairs.
When she got to the landing, she said, “First off, the prints. It’s a mess, there are tons of latents, which isn’t surprising considering it’s a john. Don’t imagine you have a list of candidates for comparison-elimination.”
“If I need one,” said Milo, “I’ll recontact everyone who used those upstairs rooms. What I’m hoping is you’ll find something that links to AFIS and we go after a nice convenient criminal.”
“Wouldn’t that be great,” said Cho. “I’ll do my best to lift everything but there’s all sorts of overlays and smudges. Top of that, the analysis will be crazy. Lab’s going to love you, Lieutenant. Even with scanning, it’s going to take time. Now the main thing. I found what looks like a needle puncture on her.”
“C.I.’s didn’t say anything about that.”
Cho shrugged. “Everyone misses stuff. Once I found it I looked for others. There aren’t any on the rest of her unclothed skin, and this doesn’t look self-administered. Unless you’ve heard of people shooting up back here.”
Hooking her arm back, she pressed a spot at the base of her own skull.
Milo said, “Needle in the head?”
“Right where the spine enters the foramen magnum — that’s a little passageway back here. I found it by accident, shifting her around so I could get prints from the walls of the cubicle. I was holding on to her shoulders trying to ease her down but my hand slipped and I reached out, got hold of her neck, and felt a bump. She’s got thick hair, you wouldn’t see it unless you parted the strands. Once they do a full autopsy at the crypt and shave her, it will be obvious. I just thought you’d want to know as soon as possible.”
“Definitely, appreciate it, Peggy.”
I said, “A bump could mean a fresh puncture. Incapacitated before she was strangled.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Cho. “Because you know how long it takes to choke someone out, and especially with a wire cutting through flesh you’d expect to see signs of a struggle — lacerations on her hands as she fought to get loose. But there are none. I didn’t even pick up any dirt under her nails, let alone skin.”
Milo said, “Needle in the back of the neck. You ever seen that before, Peggy?”
“First time for everything.”
He cracked a couple of bulky knuckles. “Killer dopes her, then takes time strangling her... show me.”
Chapter 5
Two burly morgue drivers waited in the hallway facing the bathroom. One played with his phone, the other raised his eyebrows. “We good to go?”
Milo said, “Not yet,” and followed Peggy Cho into the cramped fetid space. The body was prone on the floor.
Cho said, “Let me turn her.”
“Want help?”
“No, I’m fine.” She rotated the head gently, deftly parted the woman’s dark mane, and revealed a bright-red dot on the nape of a long, graceful neck.
If the injection had pierced the spinal cord, the result would’ve been blindingly painful. A high-voltage shock.
I said, “No struggle says whatever she was injected with put her out quickly.”
Cho said, “Maybe a fast-acting paralytic.”
“Or a fast-acting opioid. Fentanyl comes to mind.”
“You know, that makes sense,” said Cho. “A proper dosage for pain can take only minutes, right? Squeeze in more and we could be talking seconds.”
I said, “Margin of error’s not that great. It could also be fatal.”
“Oh, yeah, we’re seeing tons of O.D.’s.”
Milo said, “This shot probably wasn’t fatal, at least not immediately.” He pointed. “Look at all the blood around the ligature wound.”