Free Bloodborn by Kathryn Fox Page A

are moving toward me and I use a fair amount of force…” She slowly pressed her fist into his upper abdomen until he flexed at the waist.
    Anya continued, “Because your skin is being pushed backward. Once it recoils to its normal position, the end depth of the wound is going to be longer than the blade. It depends on the degree of force used.”
    Wheeler’s face brightened. “That makes sense.”
    “I always say you have to see these things to understand them.” Jeff Sales seemed to enjoy the demonstration. He preferred interaction with staff, or classical music if no one else was around, and reveled in any chance to educate police.
    “Similarly, the length of the skin wound can be equal, less than or greater than the width of the knife.”
    “I must be thick. You’ve got me again,” the younger detective mumbled.
    “Always admit when you’re unsure or don’t understand. There’s no such thing as a stupid question.” Liz patted Wheeler on the back. “Mistakes come from not asking. And don’t care what anyone thinks of you. Chances are, if you want to ask it, so do others.”
    Wheeler put the notebook in his back pocket and folded his arms. “Okay. How can the entrance wound be longer than the blade is wide?”
    “Another good question.” Jeff was in his element. “If the blade has one cutting edge, it can slice through the skin, lengthening the incision. Skin is also elastic and that can make the wound shorter than the blade’s width.”
    Liz frowned. “There’s something I don’t quite get. The pink top had a bloodied fingerprint in it. You think it might have been used to gag her, but before she was stabbed, given the amount of blood she lost.”
    “Correct.”
    “Then why does it have bloodstains on it?”
    “Maybe she screamed at the first stab wound and that’s why it was put in,” Jeff suggested.
    “Her hands were tied to the bed, she wasn’t going anywhere. So he stabs her, then stops, with bloodstains on his hands, to stuff her shirt down her throat. We know she’s still alive because of the swelling you mentioned. Then he goes back to stabbing her.”
    “Or moves on to the sister. He could have immobilized Rachel, then attacked Sophie and cut her throat. Thinking she’s dead, he goes back to finish off his first victim,” Wheeler suggested.
    Liz shook her head. “The sadistic bastard would have had blood all over him at that stage.”
    Anya recalled that the house didn’t show signs of someone traipsing through back and forth, with blood on them.
    “Maybe he’s organized,” Wheeler suggested.
    “Or there was more than one killer,” Anya said.
    The prospect of two people combining to commit that degree of violence was even more disturbing. She needed to know more about the pattern of genital injuries.
    “Jeff, what do you notice about the vaginal area?”
    “There’s marked purpuric bruising inside the thighs, as you can see.” He moved one knee to face outward and a series of large purplish bruises was apparent.
    Anya moved closer. “There’s tearing of the fourchette and a large hematoma.”
    The lab assistant arrived with a digital camera and without speaking began to photograph the injuries Jeff described.
    “We’ll need closeups, thanks. I’ve taken some swabs,” the senior pathologist added, “but we’ll have to wait and see. There were a couple of darker pubic hairs, none with roots, I’m afraid.”
    Jeff concluded the gross examination with photos of the probe through each incision. Then began the long process of internal examination.
    Anya’s mind wandered to the scene. “Were any of the locks damaged?”
    Liz shook her head. Whoever it was walked in the front door, or pushed their way in once it was open. The girls could have known their attacker or attackers.
    “Do you have any suspects yet?”
    The female detective frowned and waited for the stryker saw to stop.
    “Still canvassing the neighbors, who don’t seem to have seen or heard anything.