As you can see here in photo fourteen, there’s none of that."

"Thank you," said Ziegler. She turned to the jury. "And my apologies for the gruesome nature of the testimony — we should be on less gory ground from now on. I hope you all understand why it was necessary." She looked at Dale. "Your witness, counselor."

Dale rose. Damn, but Ziegler was good. She’d apologized for the graphic testimony, and promised the jury it was over — meaning Dale would look insensitive by going over it again in his cross. "Dr. Flemingdon," he said, "you spoke about ‘hesitation marks.’ "

"Yes?"

"The tentative initial cuts made by someone unfamiliar with using a knife?"

"That’s right. They’re best known as a feature of wrist-cutting suicides, but medical students make them all the time, too, until they’re used to working with scalpels."

"Medical students," repeated Dale.

"Yes."

"Human medical students."

"Ah, well, yes. Yes, but—"

"No ‘buts,’ Doctor. Now, let’s talk about the missing body parts. Dr. Flemingdon, wouldn’t you say that Cletus Calhoun was a celebrity?"

"Well, this is Los Angeles, Mr. Rice. I’m sure Mr. Calhoun is a big fish wherever he’s from—"

"Pigeon Forge, Tennessee."

"Right, well, by Pigeon Forge standards, I’m sure he’s a big name, but out here? He was on PBS, for God’s sake."

A few snickers from the spectators. Judge Pringle rapped her gavel to silence them.

"Actually," said Dale, "Dolly Parton is also from Pigeon Forge."

"You make my point, counselor. Even in Tennessee, he wasn’t that big a name."

"I’m not sure everyone would agree," said Dale, turning to look at the jury.

"I’m sure many of the people on the jury considered Dr. Calhoun to be quite a celebrity."

"Objection," said Ziegler, spreading her hands. "I fail to see the relevance."

"I’m frankly baffled, too," said Pringle. "Mr. Rice?"

"A couple more moments, if you please, Your Honor."

"Very well — but do get to the point."

"My pleasure. Dr. Flemingdon, didn’t your lab handle the death last year of rock singer Billy Williger?"

Flemingdon stiffened. "Yes."

"And didn’t parts of Mr. Williger’s body go missing from your lab?"

"Yes."

"And were you reprimanded for that?"

Teeth clenched. "Yes."

"So body parts in your charge have disappeared before?"

"I’ve already said yes."

"And we have only your word for the fact that the parts you enumerated were taken by the perpetrator."

"The crime-scene photos show the missing jaw and the missing eye."

"Not exactly — none of the crime-scene photos show those parts, but the photos hardly cover the entire room."

"You have my word that the parts were missing."

"Yes — your word. After all, it wouldn’t do to have another case of overeager fans stealing body parts from your morgue, would it?"

"Billy Williger was a huge star, Mr. Rice. I’m not familiar with astronomers having obsessive groupies."

Laughter from the audience; Pringle was suppressing a chuckle herself.

"The defense would be glad to introduce Dr. Calhoun’s fan mail into evidence," said Dale. "But so far, we have a murder mystery whose most mysterious elements rest on the testimony of someone who has lost body parts before."

"Objection," said Ziegler. "Mr. Rice is arguing his case."

"Sustained," said Pringle. "You’ve made your point, Mr. Rice. Move on."

"You mentioned that body parts are sometimes removed by human murderers," said Dale.

"Yes."

"For what purpose?"

"Well, as I said, a souvenir of the crime."

"Isn’t it true that parts are sometimes removed for cannibalism?"

"Yes."

"Or as trophies from a sex slaying?"

"Yes."

"Define ‘cannibalism’ for us, Doctor."

"It’s — well, it’s the eating of human flesh."

"That’s not quite right. It’s actually the eating of the flesh of one’s own kind, isn’t it? When members of one species of fish eat other members of that same species, we say they’re practicing cannibalism, don’t we?"

"Umm, yes."

"So, the removal of parts for cannibalism would be possible only between members of the same species, no?"

"You’re arguing semantics, Mr. Rice."

"And a sex slaying — again, sex is performed between members of the same species, isn’t that right?"

"Usually."

"There’s no reason to think that a Tosok would have either cannibalistic or sexual interest in human body parts, is there?"

"Well, no."

"But there are countless cases involving human murderers in which body parts are taken for those reasons?"

Reluctantly: "There are many such cases, yes."

"Thank you, Dr. Flemingdon," said Dale.

"Redirect?" asked Judge Pringle.

Ziegler shook her head.

The trial took its noon recess at the end of Dr. Flemingdon’s testimony.

When court resumed, Ziegler picked up her case-in-chief.

"Please state and spell your name," said the clerk to the man now seated in the witness stand.

"Feinstein, Moshe." He spelled them both.

’’Thank you."

Feinstein was forty-four, with a long, dour face and thick steel-gray hair. He wore horn-rim glasses and had a plastic pocket protector in the breast pocket of his short-sleeved blue shirt. Ziegler got up. "Mr. Feinstein, please tell the Court who you are."

"I’m a supervising criminalist for the Los Angeles Police Department."

"Your Honor, we have here Mr. Feinstein’s curriculum vitae, which runs to six pages. We would like to enter it into evidence."

Judge Pringle looked at Dale, who nodded. "All right," said Pringle.

"Briefly, Mr. Feinstein, can you summarize your chief credentials?"

Feinstein smiled. It was not a pretty sight. "I’ve been with the LAPD for sixteen years. I have a master-of-science degree in criminology, and a second M.S. in chemistry. I’m on the board of directors of the California Association of Criminalists and am a Fellow of the American Academy of Forensic Sciences — and I hold certifications of professional competency from both those organizations."

"Thank you. Early on the morning of December twenty-third of last year, were you called to Valcour Hall, a residence on the campus of the University of Southern California?"

"I was."

"Why were you called there?"

"To be principal criminalist at the scene of the murder of Cletus Calhoun, and to supervise the other criminalists working there."

"Mr. Feinstein, did you find anything in Dr. Calhoun’s dorm room that could have served as the murder weapon?"

"Objection," said Dale, rising to his feet. "Prejudicial. The term ‘murder weapon’ implies intent to kill. The People have not established that this was a first-degree crime."

"Sustained."

"Very well," said Ziegler. "Did you find anything in Dr. Calhoun’s dorm room that could have been used to sever his right leg from his body?"

"I did not."

"Did you find any implement there that could have been used to spread Dr. Calhoun’s ribs?"

"No, but I didn’t expect to."

"Could you explain that?"

"Well, the incision down the center of Dr. Calhoun’s chest was clearly made by a mechanical device — it’s a perfectly straight line running from throat to groin. The cut split the breastbone, and dug into the heart and other soft tissues. But the actual spreading of the ribs was apparently done by brute force."

"What do you mean?"

"It was apparently done by hand — by someone grabbing either side of Dr. Calhoun’s severed breastbone and pulling hard." Feinstein pantomimed the action against his own chest.

"What makes you think it was done by hand, Mr. Feinstein?"

"Well, whenever there’s an open wound, we look at the edges of it, and—"