One thing was for sure though; her vocal cords and throat area had been slashed. The coroner would determine if the vocal cords themselves were actually cut. Kate didn’t really want to get close enough to take a better look. But, in spite of herself, she knew she had to.
As she tilted the woman’s head slightly to the side and up, Kate confirmed that her throat had, indeed, been cut. Swearing slightly to herself, she stepped back, muttering, “Torture is one thing. This is something else again.”
At her side, Rodney looked at her. “What did you say?”
She shrugged. “Some torture is obvious”—she pointed at the dead body—“but this seems to be a step above.”
“Is there a step above?” he asked cynically. “It looks just like murder to me.”
“It does, but then why cut the vocal cords?”
He looked at the woman’s bloody throat and shrugged. “If it’s her vocal cords, it was probably part of the throat slashing that killed her.”
Kate frowned as she studied the body. “I don’t know that we can put a cause of death to it yet.”
He snorted. “I get that we have to wait for the report,” he noted, “but her throat has definitely been slashed.”
She nodded. “Yeah, and both wrists are broken. Both ankles are broken, and you can see bone on the back of that calf, where some of the muscle has been stripped back.”
He looked, then turned back to her and frowned. “But again, none of those would be cause of death.”
“No.” She sighed. “I guess I’m just hoping that the asshole who did this had her so drugged that she didn’t know.”
Rodney swallowed. “You’re thinking all that was done while she was alive?”
Kate nodded. “Yes, I do. But again, we’ll have to wait to hear it from the coroner.” Just then his vehicle drove up. She turned and nodded as Dr. Smidge got out. “He’ll be happy with this.”
“He’s never happy with us,” Rodney quipped with a half smirk. “But we’re just doing our jobs.”
“He’s not even upset with us,” she admitted. “We’re just the messengers.”
Smidge walked toward her, a glare in his eyes.
She nodded and gave him a bright smile. “Lovely day, isn’t it, Doc?”
His eyebrows shot up, even as the rain poured over him. “I didn’t bring a hat or an umbrella,” he announced.
“Won’t matter,” she said. “You won’t do much here anyway.”
He continued to glare at her, stepped up, and looked down at the woman inside the bin.
“God damn it,” he muttered. “We’ll need to go through all that garbage too.”
She nodded. “Absolutely. Forensics is on their way.”
“Interesting.” He shook his head. “As if she were the last thing tossed in.”
“And no attempt to cover her up either,” Kate murmured.
He nodded at that. “Was the lid open?”
She nodded. “It was open. Body was found by a homeless man.” Kate turned to look around the corner, where the man should still be sitting. He was, thankfully, but he was tucking into a big bottle of some golden liquid at a pretty fast rate. Probably to haze out the scenes in his mind. It would be her job to pull those scenes back up front and center again, so he could tell her anything he might be hanging on to. “Shit. He’s the one over there, drinking up,” she murmured.
The coroner looked at him, nodded. “I would be too, if I were him.”
She smiled. “Well, I’d like a coffee myself, and the dang coffee shops aren’t even open yet.”
“The street vendors aren’t here either,” he grumbled. He bent down, took a look at the body, without actually touching her, then pulled out gloves and started doing an exam. She opened her mouth, when he flat-out stated, “Don’t even ask.”