PART ONE:

THE SUITE GIRL

January 15th

Grand Marquis Hotel. Downtown. Presence requested ASAP.

Ask for Sergeant Lopez upon arrival.

Presence requested ASAP.

It was probably a dead one or two.

Or more.

She shook her head. No, she didn't need more. The city didn't need more. Not for another night, another week, for eternity.

Hoping for the best, she crumbled the note into a ball before shoving it back into her coat pocket. She checked inside her coat pocket, and relieved to realize that she didn't leave that damn card home again. Her identification. Dr. Jacqueline Farris, Medical Examiner for the Malikan City County Office of the Medical Examiner. She couldn't get pass the caution tape without it.

Jackie took a careful step forward. Not the easiest move to make on an icy sidewalk in a pair of old Converse's she had shoved on while leaving her warm, cozy apartment in haste.

"Okay," she said, determined, bringing the Styrofoam cup to her shivering lips. One cup full of caffeine, two shots of espresso. Robinson with tons of sugar. Goodness, if her doctor was standing by, he would have a conniption. Or force her into the hospital. But what could Jackie do? It was approaching eleven at night. She had a job to do, and she was living off a couple of hours sleep. And this was supposed to be her day off.

Jackie tossed the cup into the garbage can next to her and glanced up. The bright golden sign, hanging high, several feet from her, almost removed the droopiness from her eyes—

The Grand Marquis Hotel. The Waldorf-Astoria of Malikan City. A grand Art Deco building, standing forty stories high, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. It was located several blocks from a major port and train hub. Its rates so obscene that the place was locally known as "Millionaire's Inn" or simply "Millionaire's." It might not be the most creative name, but it stood.

It was also the scene of a murder.

Another murder.

The thirtieth since the year began.

Two weeks ago.

Jackie dropped her head and rubbed her hands together, attempting to stay warm. She studied her surroundings. It was just another chilly winter night in Malikan City. People were rushing past, paying no mind to her. Cars sped past her in the street behind her. There were a couple of police cars in the vicinity but that was the norm.

She took a deep breath, picked up her briefcase, and approached the entrance. Look for Sergeant Lopez, she reminded herself as walked past the attendants.

It was time to get to work.

***

"Dr. Farris. It's good to see you again."

Jackie gave Sergeant Lopez, her escort, a tired smile as she approached him. She had seen him before, a young man, in passing, but never had the chance to put the name to the face. "Wished it was under better circumstances," she said.

Lopez nodded. "Don't we all."

"Yeah..." Jackie trailed off and the two fell into silence. She glanced at the receptionist's desk on her right. "Goodness. Imagine staying in such a hotel..." she remarked, not believing she was standing inside such a luxurious place for the first time. It was everything she had imagined and more.

"Not with our salaries," Lopez joked, but only partially.

Jackie let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, I know."

The cop nodded and remained silent as he led Jackie through the crowd of guests and some police officers to the elevator bank.

Jackie studied her surroundings as she waited for the elevator. She was amazed at the calmness. A crime, a murder, had just occurred on the floors above and everyone was calm. At least, one person, who wasn't a cop, in the crowd had to have known; word traveled fast especially in the world of social media, and yet everyone was calm.

Interesting.

"Victim?" Jackie inquired, shoving off her Robinson faux-suede gloves and jamming them into her wool coat. She followed the cop into an elevator designed for only them, staring down at her dry brown skin, mumbling under her breath about hating the cold.

Lopez pressed the button to the 29th floor.

"Caucasian female. Brown hair. Slim build. Due to the circumstances of her death, can't provide much else."

Jackie grimaced at the cop's words. Circumstances of her death— those dreaded words did not bode well for any plans to have a good night sleep. She should have taken an earlier nap when she had the chance. She shook her head; she might only be in her late-thirties, she was already getting too old for this job.

"ID?"

"None found."

"The room?"

"We're checking on it as we speak."

Jackie nodded. "How does she look?"

"Like the Black Dahlia."

"Wonderful." Jackie stopped to compose herself. This was not the time to react in such a manner. After all, she was a medical examiner. A coroner. An expert at seeing and examining dead bodies. She could handle it. "Show me the way.”

***

Several minutes later, Jackie was following Lopez down the hallway of the 29th floor. It was odd to see the hotel's grand hallway full of law enforcement, paramedics and crime scene investigators. She appreciated the hallway décor and wanted to check out some of the rooms, but all entrances all blocked by hotel staff.

The actual room was an executive suite. It, too, was well-decorated and in pristine condition. There was no indication of a struggle, a break-in, or even a crime having been committed. Jackie mentioned her observations to the officer. His response was a grimace.

"Follow me," Lopez said, leading Jackie further into the suite, stopping right front of the master bedroom door. He deeply exhaled and with hesitance and fear, slowly opened the door. "She's in here."

Jackie followed right in and abruptly stopped in her tracks. Bringing a hand to her mouth, she breathed, "Holy mother of God..."

She now understood the officer's reference to the eighty-year-old unsolved murder.

Moments later, after grasping the fact that she was standing a few feet from a nude, badly mutilated body, and so much blood, she turned to Lopez who looked like he was about to throw up. He needed to leave the room if he felt that way. "When's homicide arriving?"

"Detective Robinson and Detective Yuma should be here soon. Traffic, you know."

Jackie nodded and glanced down at the victim before pulling on a pair of latex gloves and commenced her inspection.

Her nose scrunched up as she took a first, concerted look at the woman's deformed face. As a seasoned medical examiner, she had seen her fair share of decapitations and dismemberments— perhaps too many to be considered healthy—but this, there was no comparison to the sight in front of her.

The victim was nude, and in half. The parts laid about a foot apart with a pool of blood and intestines strewn between them. There were lacerations all over her face. She was laid out as if she was a disregarded mannequin. Her arms and legs spread apart. The lacerations all over her were clean and concise save for the torso.

Jackie searched for anything that might point to the motive behind such a brutal crime but came up empty-handed. Perhaps, not. There was one thing she could determine: this was a work of a sick person. A sadist. The murder had been committed so passionately, so violently, so intricately. The killer had taken its time disfiguring the victim, ridding the victim of all decency. And the Joker-influenced cut from one edge to the mouth to the other—Jackie had to swallow all urges to vomit.

"I assume she knew her killer," Lopez mumbled, scanning the room as the paramedics packed their things and said their goodbyes. As soon as they left, more cops flooded into the room. "There's no evidence of a break-in. No murder weapon…"

Jackie nodded in agreement and knelt further down. The killer had given special attention to the deformation of the victim's face. "This was obviously personal," she concluded. "This poor girl." She did a once over and nodded; the decomposing process hadn't started yet; the body was still fresh. The woman's face still had coloring. The blood hadn't dried up yet.

"She's most likely been dead for maybe an hour or two. A few, tops," Jackie hypothesized, suppressing yet another yawn as she stood back up. A distinct mark on the victim's body caught her eye. Tilting her head, she studied it—two bite marks on her neck. They were deep, still reaming with blood.

Jackie glanced at the officer to see if he had noticed them as well, but he was busy talking to the newly arrived cops. She looked down again. As disturbing as the bites were, they could make this investigation a little easier. Bites contained saliva and saliva contained DNA. With the help of forensic scientists, they could detect some DNA; they could possibly trace the DNA back to its owner and find out what kind of sick person would do something like this.

She called for Lopez.

"Did you or anyone happen to see any traces of an animal? A snake, maybe?"

The officer aimlessly looked around and shrugged. "No. I'm pretty sure this hotel generally has a strict no-animal policy. Only a few rooms permit it. This room isn't one of them, but I can ask?"

"That would be great, thank you," Jackie said. She watched the officer leave before leaning over and carefully titling the victim's head in search of more marks.

No obvious signs of asphyxiation. No other glaring marks found except for a small heart tattoo placed on the upper neck—

Albanisi.

Jackie snapped her head up when the familiar name reached her ears. A terrifying name right from the lips of one of the cops guarding the scene.

She gulped; she tried to tell herself that she must have misheard the man, but then he said it again. This time with more conviction. Her breathing slowed down as she heard another cop berate her comrade for making such a remark.

Shit.

"Dr. Farris, is everything alright?"

Jackie snapped out of her trance and peered up at the concerned officer. "Yeah…" she whispered, and then more convincingly, "Yeah, I'm good. It's just… you know.” She took a deep breath. “This is a bit overwhelming, even for me."

"No kidding." Lopez stopped and looked beyond Jackie. "Oh, great," he announced, visibly relieved. "They're here."

Jackie looked behind her and saw the two homicide detectives, Marcus Robinson and Teresa Yuma, standing in the doorway with more back up. She stood up when Robinson reached her. "Detective Robinson, nice to see you... and Detective Yuma, again."

"Dr. Farris," Robinson greeted, giving the woman in front of him a small smile. His dark brown eyes were friendly as usual but laced with fatigue. He must be working a double for the fourth time this week.

Yuma barely acknowledged Jackie as she directed more officers around the crime scene. But when she caught Jackie's eyes, she nodded at the other woman. Jackie just waved, not expecting much else from the detective. Their relationship had always been complicated.

Robinson walked around the medical examiner to further inspect the body. He stopped a couple of feet of it, right beyond the yellow take and stared at it, horrified. He removed his hat and held it to his chest. "Christ," he breathed.

"I know," Jackie mumbled, moving around the pieces, searching for more distinctive markings.

Yuma soon came up behind Robinson, and based on the dismayed expression on her face, she shared the sentiment. She cleared her throat and asked, "What do you got so far?"

"She knew the killer. I think. There were no signs of struggle, not around the room, not on her—I don't think." Jackie hated sounding so indecisive. "Oh, there is something you should see." She bent down and pointed at the nape of the victim's neck. "What do you say?"

The detectives knelt down on opposite sides of the doctor, peered at the mark, then at each other, and then back down.

"A bite mark," Yuma simply stated moments later. "Where do you think it came from?"

Jackie examined the bite further. It couldn't have been done by a dog. It was far too small and far too clean. "I… don't know. At first, I thought it was an animal, but…"

"You think someone bit her," Robinson finished. "A person."

Jackie nodded, but doubt was still in her mind. The skin had been punctured by something sharper than human teeth. Perhaps by fangs. "Yeah, a person."

Robinson turned to his partner. "Human or…?"

"Or?" Jackie's eyes shifted from detective to detective. "What other kind of person is there?"

"Human." Yuma directed a glare at her partner. "Only human."

"Yeah, human."

Jackie watched the exchange, suspicious of the detectives' invasive behavior. Robinson sounded unconvinced. Yuma sounded downright annoyed. It was too suspicious, but Jackie chose to remain quiet. The questioning could wait for a time when she wasn't kneeling next to a dismembered body.

Robinson ran a hand down his face and groaned. "I just can't believe—First case since the Transfer and I gotta deal with a goddamn sadist. Jackie, Dr. Farris, when can we get some results?"

Jackie took a glimpse at the victim. She couldn't provide an accurate timetable. But it should be soon. Although she did have a string of cadavers waiting to be inspected, this case was going to be a high-profile one. It would have priority. "Tomorrow," she decided. "I should be able to provide, at the very least, the estimated time of death."

"The full autopsy needs to be done ASAP," Yuma said, crossing her arms.

Jackie gave the detective a look. "Of course."

Another cop rushed into the bedroom to announce: "The press is here!"

Yuma cursed under her breath and announced that she would be heading to the lobby to meet any reports before they caused any more havoc. Robinson chose to stay behind.

"That didn't take long," Jackie remarked, standing up. Less than an hour ago, it seemed that no one had noticed the crime. She quickly disposed of her gloves, pulled out a work-approved camera and began taking pictures of the body. "That really didn't take long at all."

"I'm sure a guest or two reached out to them," Robinson said, becoming annoyed. He was not in the mood to participate in an impromptu press conference. His captain would bust a nerve. "And I'm sure the increasing police presence outside isn't helping…"

"I'll say."

Jackie put away her camera.

For now, her job was done.