Page 69 of Made of Steele
“That one is simple.” Dr. Albertson’s eyes brightened. “His name is Kris Forte. We found his wallet with his driver’s license in the back pocket. Same deal for the male on the other table. Carlo Romo. Before you ask, I snapped pictures of the IDs for you.”
“Interesting.” Drew tilted his head. “A destroyed ID on Smiley. No ID on the second guy, but if he was carrying something that could identity him, looks like the killer would’ve left it as he didn’t care to hide their IDs.”
Interesting. Indeed. Teagan was sure she’d never heard this man’s name before, but now that they knew the names of these two men, she and Drew could research them to find their connection to Rossi. “What about cause of death?”
“You know I try to be helpful.” Dr. Albertson went back to work, plunging her hands into the victim’s chest cavity. “But you people always want the big three before we even get started. ID, time and cause of death often take time.”
“I know,” Teagan said, actually feeling bad for pushing the good doctor, but it wouldn’t stop her. “I’m sorry, but do you know his cause of death?”
“Not yet.” She lifted her head. “This level of decomposition will take some time to get through. But to save time so you can get out of here and find whoever did this, Arthur will start the preliminary pictures on Romo.”
As if on cue, Arthur lowered the sheet to Carlo Romo’s waist. “Oh wow. Take a look at this, Doctor.”
Dr. Albertson continued to move something around in Forte’s chest cavity then holding her hands in the air, spun and stepped to the other table. Teagan and Drew followed her.
Long stripes of torn angry red flesh covered the victim’s torso as if attacked by a wild animal, shredding long angry paths down his skin.
“What in the world?” Dr. Albertson ripped off her gloves and bent closer.
Teagan forced herself to study the angry marks. “Animal attack? Maybe a bear. I know we have brown bears in Oregon.”
Dr. Albertson grabbed fresh gloves and bent to examine the stripes. “Not a bear. No animal that I know of. These patterns have only three claw marks. Bears have five. And these are fine. Sharp. Like made from metal points not the thickened claw of an animal. Maybe from a very sharp handheld garden implement.”
“Metal?” Drew looked at Teagan. “Does that make any sense?”
Teagan quickly ran through the facts they possessed so far. “No. Not with what we know.”
Drew shifted his attention to Dr. Albertson. “Doesn’t look like the cause of death though, right?”
“No. These wounds are all superficial.” Dr. Albertson bent even closer and pressed a gloved finger against a hole in the man’s chest near his heart. “I would say this is your cause of death.”
Teagan studied the triangular wound. “That’s not round like a gunshot. Or straight like a knife.”
Dr. Albertson raised her head. “I suspect the injury was sustained by an arrow. A three-bladed tip. Death from an arrow is very rare. In fact, I’ve only ever seen this once before. Turn the victim, Arthur.”
Her assistant grunted as he shifted the body to expose his back to Dr. Albertson.
“The arrow fully passed through him.” She pressed on a hole in the back of the man’s chest. “Likely means he was motionless at the time.”
“Arrow?” Teagan mused. “This is so odd. We have claw-like marks on the body and an arrow killing the man?”
“My preliminary guess for his cause of death, yes,” Dr. Albertson said. “But I won’t know for sure until I do the cut.”
“Which came first?” Drew asked. “Claws or arrow.”
“You can lay him down, Arthur.” Dr. Albertson pointed at the largest gouge from a claw. “See how the edges of the marks are swollen and gape? This tells me it was definitely done antemortem. And I would guess that with the way the wounds fade as they go down toward the feet, that this victim was standing as was the attacker and the killer is taller than the victim.”
“So this guy was first attacked by a person with a garden tool or something like that, and then he was shot with an arrow?” Teagan clarified.
“That’s my best estimation of what occurred.”
“Don’t you find that odd?” Teagan asked.
Dr. Albertson shrugged. “In my line of work, I see many things that most people would find odd, but it’s par for the course.”
“And can you give us an estimate on this man’s time of death?” Drew asked.
She gave Drew an exasperated look. “A guesstimate says he’s been in the ground for three weeks so mid-November or so. But again, I have to consult temps and weather to be more precise.”
