Dead Man's Song

Ferro drifted along behind the ME, making the young doctor nervous by peering over his shoulder as he examined the wounds, palpated the flesh on the throats of each victim, and took temperature readings. As the doctor worked Ferro continued to read the scene himself, not liking what he was seeing for a hundred different reasons. “Well?” Ferro asked after the ME had finished his cursory examination.

“Well, I guess I have to officially say that they’re dead. They are. Boy are they.” The doctor’s face was as sweaty as Bernhardt’s.

“Cause of death?”

The doctor pursed his lips. “I’m going to let Saul Weinstock do the post, but I’ve lived in hunting country my whole life, and I’ve hunted bear in Potter County here in Pennsylvania and in Minnesota, where I grew up.”

Ferro frowned. “What are you saying? That a bear did this?”

“A bear? No, the bite radius doesn’t look big enough, but if I was to make a horseback guess here, Detective, I’d say that yeah, some kind of animal was involved.”

“You’re calling this an animal attack?”

“Detective, I’m not calling this anything but two dead guys. I mean, two dead officers. What I’m saying is that from a superficial analysis—lacking the specifics of a postmortem—the wounds appear to be bite marks, which suggests animal attack.”

Ferro stepped closer and dropped his voice. “Has Dr. Weinstock shared with you the nature of the wounds he identified on the victim found yesterday?”

“Tony Macchio? Yes. Among other things he was bitten.”

“It was Dr. Weinstock’s opinion that the bites were made by human teeth. He lifted impressions. No trace of animal attack, according to him.”

Colbert nodded. “Right, I know, but that’s not what I think we have here, and mind you, it is possible that an animal came upon the bodies after they’d already been killed, but what I see—what I think I see—are different kinds of bite marks. And before you ask, no, they are not human bites. No way. Human bites are nasty but the teeth are pretty blunt. The skin is bruised more because human teeth aren’t used to biting through living skin, there’s more blunt tearing and ripping than we have here. Plus, it’s generally easy to differentiate between human and animal bite patterns just from observation. Look at an apple that’s had a bite taken out of it, you can tell if it was a man, a dog, a cat, whatever.”

Ferro looked over at the clear impressions made by a set of shoes other than the pairs worn by the cops—marks that almost certainly had to have been left by the killer—and then looked down at the bodies. He looked around for animal prints and saw nothing. “So what kind of bite do we have here?”

Colbert mopped frigid sweat from his face. “I don’t know. Maybe a dog. It’s big enough for a dog, if we’re talking dog. A German shepherd or something bigger. Nothing smaller, that’s for sure.”

“And you’re sure these wounds aren’t postmortem. I mean…it seems pretty clear that there was a third man here, and there’s a good chance it’s one of the fugitives involved in the manhunt. Are you saying that this wasn’t a murder but that these two armed officers were instead attacked by an animal?”

“Detective, I’m not sure of anything. I said that this was a horseback guess—I don’t want you to hold me to it. Whatever left the bite marks could have come along postmortem, sure. The state forest is a stone’s throw away from here, something might have smelled blood and come prowling after your fugitive killed them. Bottom line is I don’t really know.”

Ferro nodded. “Fair enough. One more thing, doctor…what do you make of the amount of blood?”

Colbert looked at him for a moment, then looked around, opened his mouth to say something, then stopped and looked at the scene again. “Hunh,” he said.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Well,” Colbert said, nodding at the bodies as he stripped off his latex gloves, “there is certainly a great deal of visible blood spill and spatter…”

“But?”

“But given the severity of the injuries—to two grown men—the amount of visible blood is less than you would expect.” He cut a look at Ferro. “That’s what you’re referring to, isn’t it?”

Without directly answering, Ferro said, “I would appreciate it if you noted that in your preliminary report.” When the doctor nodded, Ferro added, “Dr. Colbert, I’d prefer you only spoke with Dr. Weinstock about this, and no one else. Are we clear on this?” His brown eyes bored into Colbert’s and the ME nodded, then moved away without another word.

As the doctor left LaMastra ushered the police photographer and the techs onto the scene. The photographer’s flash was popping wildly as Gus Bernhardt lumbered heavily up, his eyes now dry but still looking hurt. He had a cell phone in his hand and was flipping the lid closed as he approached.