inside her head. All the killer had to do was
suspend her by her feet, nothing else. Gravity does the rest. He didn’t even have to be in the room anymore. The pressure would’ve just kept on building up inside her head until it
brought her gradual loss of consciousness, and then finally death as the brain would signal either respiration to fail, or the heart to stop pumping blood.’
Uneasily, Hunter shifted his weight from one foot to another.
‘How long?’ Garcia asked. ‘How long before she died? How long could one stand all that pain before the gradual loss of consciousness and death?’
Doctor Hove gave the detective a subtle, unsure headshake. ‘It would depend on several factors, Carlos, like strength and health of the victim. She appears to have been very healthy
– good muscle tone, non-smoker, strong lungs, healthy liver and kidneys. But even if I’m wrong, the killer could’ve prolonged the whole process for as long as he wanted simply by
returning her to a right-side-up position, decreasing the pressure in her brain, and then starting it all over again an hour or so later.’
‘Do you have an approximate time of death?’ Hunter asked.
‘Supposing that her body was always kept at room temperature after death,’ the doctor explained, ‘and I found no indication to the contrary, I’d say that she’s been
dead for about thirty hours, give or take a couple.’
Hunter and Garcia knew that Nicole Wilson had been abducted seven days prior to her body being found, which meant that her killer could indeed have tortured her for five and a half consecutive
days.
Before she spoke again, Doctor Hove took in a deep breath and held it for several seconds.
‘But that’s not all,’ she finally said.
Hunter and Garcia both looked at her, surprised.
‘Everything I’ve told you about this victim . . . about how she was tortured, about how she was murdered . . . I’d say none of it is scary in comparison to this.’
‘In comparison to what, Doc?’ Garcia asked.
The doctor turned and retrieved something else from the instrument table behind her – a clear plastic evidence bag containing a white piece of paper.
‘To this.’
‘And what is that?’ Hunter this time.
Doctor Hove looked down at the evidence bag for a couple of seconds before locking eyes with Hunter.
‘This is a note from the killer. He left it lodged inside her throat.’
‘Wait. What?’ Garcia asked, lifting a hand as if he hadn’t heard it properly.
Hunter didn’t move.
‘This piece of paper was first rolled up into a tube,’ the doctor explained, ‘then carefully inserted into the victim’s throat.’ She handed the plastic evidence bag
to Hunter. ‘The note speaks for itself.’
The piece of paper inside it was about eight inches long by five wide. Plain white. No lines. Across the center of it, written in blood, were three words.
I AM DEATH.
Fourteen
After leaving the LACDC, it took Hunter and Garcia forty-eight minutes to reach the location where Nicole Wilson’s body had been found – a large, unoccupied green
field just a stone’s throw away from Los Angeles International Airport. The field itself was half a mile long by a quarter of a mile wide. Most of it was densely populated by bushy trees like
wax myrtles, white ash and California pepper trees, with the exception of two small areas occupied by untreated grass and a few small shrubs and bushes – one on its west side and a much
smaller one on its southeast side, where the body had been left. Oddly enough, as if it had decided to run away from the forest-like field, a lonely tree stood in that southeast clearance. Nicole
Wilson’s body had been placed just a few feet from it.
Neither detective said much throughout the entire trip. They were both lost in their own thoughts, silently running over everything Doctor Hove had thrown at them and trying their best to make
sense of a senseless act.
But even in silence, they both shared
suspend her by her feet, nothing else. Gravity does the rest. He didn’t even have to be in the room anymore. The pressure would’ve just kept on building up inside her head until it
brought her gradual loss of consciousness, and then finally death as the brain would signal either respiration to fail, or the heart to stop pumping blood.’
Uneasily, Hunter shifted his weight from one foot to another.
‘How long?’ Garcia asked. ‘How long before she died? How long could one stand all that pain before the gradual loss of consciousness and death?’
Doctor Hove gave the detective a subtle, unsure headshake. ‘It would depend on several factors, Carlos, like strength and health of the victim. She appears to have been very healthy
– good muscle tone, non-smoker, strong lungs, healthy liver and kidneys. But even if I’m wrong, the killer could’ve prolonged the whole process for as long as he wanted simply by
returning her to a right-side-up position, decreasing the pressure in her brain, and then starting it all over again an hour or so later.’
‘Do you have an approximate time of death?’ Hunter asked.
‘Supposing that her body was always kept at room temperature after death,’ the doctor explained, ‘and I found no indication to the contrary, I’d say that she’s been
dead for about thirty hours, give or take a couple.’
Hunter and Garcia knew that Nicole Wilson had been abducted seven days prior to her body being found, which meant that her killer could indeed have tortured her for five and a half consecutive
days.
Before she spoke again, Doctor Hove took in a deep breath and held it for several seconds.
‘But that’s not all,’ she finally said.
Hunter and Garcia both looked at her, surprised.
‘Everything I’ve told you about this victim . . . about how she was tortured, about how she was murdered . . . I’d say none of it is scary in comparison to this.’
‘In comparison to what, Doc?’ Garcia asked.
The doctor turned and retrieved something else from the instrument table behind her – a clear plastic evidence bag containing a white piece of paper.
‘To this.’
‘And what is that?’ Hunter this time.
Doctor Hove looked down at the evidence bag for a couple of seconds before locking eyes with Hunter.
‘This is a note from the killer. He left it lodged inside her throat.’
‘Wait. What?’ Garcia asked, lifting a hand as if he hadn’t heard it properly.
Hunter didn’t move.
‘This piece of paper was first rolled up into a tube,’ the doctor explained, ‘then carefully inserted into the victim’s throat.’ She handed the plastic evidence bag
to Hunter. ‘The note speaks for itself.’
The piece of paper inside it was about eight inches long by five wide. Plain white. No lines. Across the center of it, written in blood, were three words.
I AM DEATH.
Fourteen
After leaving the LACDC, it took Hunter and Garcia forty-eight minutes to reach the location where Nicole Wilson’s body had been found – a large, unoccupied green
field just a stone’s throw away from Los Angeles International Airport. The field itself was half a mile long by a quarter of a mile wide. Most of it was densely populated by bushy trees like
wax myrtles, white ash and California pepper trees, with the exception of two small areas occupied by untreated grass and a few small shrubs and bushes – one on its west side and a much
smaller one on its southeast side, where the body had been left. Oddly enough, as if it had decided to run away from the forest-like field, a lonely tree stood in that southeast clearance. Nicole
Wilson’s body had been placed just a few feet from it.
Neither detective said much throughout the entire trip. They were both lost in their own thoughts, silently running over everything Doctor Hove had thrown at them and trying their best to make
sense of a senseless act.
But even in silence, they both shared
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