‘These work better,’ Carlos Garcia said, coming out of the back room and handing Hunter a surgical nose mask. He was wearing one himself.

Garcia was tall and slim with longish dark hair and light blue eyes. His boyish good looks were spoiled only by a slight lump on his nose, where it had been broken. Unlike all the other RHD detectives, Garcia had worked very hard to be assigned to the HSS. He’d been Hunter’s partner for almost three years now.

‘The smell gets worse once you enter the back room.’ Garcia nodded towards the door he’d just come out of. ‘How was the trial?’

‘Late,’ Hunter replied as he fitted the mask over his face. ‘What have we got?’

Garcia tilted his head to one side. ‘Some messed up stuff. White female victim, somewhere in her late twenties, early thirties. She was found on the stainless steel butcher’s worktop in there.’ He pointed to the room behind him.

‘Cause of death?’

Garcia shook his head. ‘We’ll have to wait for the autopsy. Nothing apparent. But here comes the kick. Her lips and her vagina were stitched shut.’

‘What?’

Garcia nodded. ‘That’s right. A very sick job. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

Hunter’s eyes darted towards the door behind his partner.

‘The body’s gone,’ Garcia offered before Hunter’s next question. ‘Doctor Winston was the Forensics lead here tonight. He wanted you to see the body and the scene in the exact way in which it was found, but he couldn’t wait any longer. The heat in there was accelerating things.’

‘When was the body taken away?’ Hunter mechanically checked his watch.

‘About two hours ago. Knowing the doc, he’s probably halfway through the autopsy already. He knows you hate sitting in on those, so there’d be no point in waiting. By the time we finish looking around this place, I’m sure he’ll have some answers for us.’

Hunter’s cell phone rang in his pocket. He grabbed it and pulled his surgical mask down, letting it hang loosely around his neck. ‘Detective Hunter.’

He listened for a few seconds. ‘What?’ His eyes shot towards Garcia, who saw Hunter’s entire demeanor change in an instant.

Three

Garcia made the trip from East LA to the Los Angeles County Department of Coroner in North Mission Road in record time.

Their confusion doubled as they approached the entrance to the coroners’ parking lot. It was blocked off by four police vehicles and two fire engines. More police cars were inside the lot. Several uniformed officers were moving around chaotically, shouting orders at each other and over the radio.

The media had descended upon the scene like ravenous wolves. Local TV and newspaper vans were everywhere. Reporters, cameramen and photographers were doing their best to get as close as they could. But a tight perimeter had already been established around the main building, and it was being strictly enforced by the LAPD.

‘What the hell is going on here?’ Hunter whispered under his breath as Garcia pulled up by the entrance.

‘You’ll have to move along, sir,’ a young policeman said, coming up to Garcia’s window and frantically gesturing for him to drive on. ‘You can’t—’

He stopped as soon as he saw Garcia’s badge. ‘I’m sorry, Detective; I’ll clear a path right away.’ He turned to face the other two officers who were standing next to their vehicles. ‘C’mon guys, make way.’

Less than thirty seconds later, Garcia was parking his Honda Civic just in front of the stairway that led up to the main building.

Hunter stepped out of the car and looked around. A small group of people, most of them in white coats, were huddled together at the far end of the parking lot. Hunter recognized them as lab technicians and coroner staff.

‘What happened here?’ he asked a fireman who had just come off the radio.

‘You’ll have to ask the chief in charge for more details. All I can tell you is that there was a fire somewhere inside.’ He pointed to the old hospital-turned-morgue.

Hunter frowned. ‘Fire?’

Certain arson cases were also investigated by the HSS, but they were rarely considered UV. Hunter had never been assigned as the lead detective in any of them.

‘Robert, over here.’

Hunter turned and saw Doctor Carolyn Hove coming down the steps to greet them. She’d always looked a great deal younger than her forty-six years. But not today. Her usually perfectly styled chestnut hair was disheveled, her expression solemn and defeated. If the Los Angeles County Coroner had ranks, Doctor Hove would be second in command, just under Doctor Winston.

‘What in the world is going on, Doc?’ Hunter asked.

‘Absolute hell . . .’

Four

Hunter, Garcia and Doctor Hove climbed up the steps together and entered the main building via its large double doors. Several more police officers and firemen were lingering around in the entry foyer. Doctor Hove guided both detectives past the reception counter, down another set of stairs and onto the underground floor. Even though they could all hear the extraction fans working at full power, a sickening smell of chemicals and burned flesh hung in the air. Both detectives cringed and reflexively cupped their hands over their noses.

Garcia felt his stomach churn.

Right at the end of the corridor, a section of the floor directly in front of autopsy room four was drenched in water. Its door was open but it seemed to have been dislodged off its hinges.

The fire chief in charge was giving instructions to one of his men when he saw the group approaching.

‘Chief,’ Doctor Hove said, ‘these are Detectives Robert Hunter and Carlos Garcia of the RHD.’

No handshakes, only polite nods.

‘What happened here?’ Hunter asked, craning his neck to try to see inside the room. ‘And where’s Doctor Winston?’

Doctor Hove didn’t reply.

The chief took off his helmet and wiped his forehead with a gloved hand. ‘Some sort of explosion.’

Hunter frowned. ‘Explosion?’

‘That’s right. The room has been checked and there are no hidden fires. In fact, the fire itself looked to have been minimal. The sprinklers put it out even before we got here. At the moment we don’t know what caused the blast, we’ll have to wait for the fire investigator’s report.’ He looked at Doctor Hove. ‘I was told that this is the largest of all the autopsy suites, and it doubles as a lab, is that right?’

‘Yes, that’s correct,’ she confirmed.

‘Are any volatile chemicals – maybe gas canisters – stored in there?’

Doctor Hove closed her eyes for a moment and let out a heavy breath. ‘Sometimes.’

The chief nodded. ‘Maybe there was a leak, but as I said, we’ll have to wait for the investigator’s report. It’s a sturdy building with solid foundations. As it’s a basement room, the walls down here are much thicker than the ones throughout the rest of the building, and that helped contain the blow. Though it was a powerful enough blast to cause a lot of internal damage, it wasn’t powerful enough to compromise the structure. For now, there isn’t much more I can tell you.’ The chief took off his gloves and rubbed his eyes. ‘It’s very messy in there, Doctor, in a very bad way.’ He paused as if unsure of what else to say. ‘I’m really sorry.’ His words were coated with grief. He nodded solemnly at the rest of the group and made his way back upstairs.