Isaac chuckled and replied, “Hey, you’ve been a pathologist for the last twenty years, I figure you must have learned something!”

“We’ll bring some Sauvignon Blanc,” said Aggi. “See you at seven.”

Aggi returned to the morgue as Connie Crane arrived.

“Good to see you, Connie,” said Aggi. “You witnessing this one?” she asked as they walked over to the body just wheeled in from the cold storage locker.

Connie nodded.

“Must be important. Haven’t seen you down here in a long time. Better you than those fresh-faced kids you’ve been sending lately. Half of them can’t even keep their lunch down.”

Connie didn’t reply and for the first time, Aggi took a close look at her. She saw the smeared mascara and the tear-stained cheeks. “My God, Connie ... what is it? You look awful.”

“Never made it to bed last night,” said Connie lamely, as she pulled the sheet back. “Look ... her thumb ... she has an extra ... thumb ... growing out of the side of it.”

Connie’s voice was a monotone. It drudged out of her body like she was a robot talking on slow speed. “My partner thought ... she was a freak ... but she’s ... just a kid.”

Aggi looked down at the body and took one step back in horror.

It was seven-forty when Isaac answered his door and invited Leon and Aggi inside.

“Sorry, we’re late,” said Leon, looking helplessly at Aggi.

“I forgot the wine,” said Aggi. “Came direct from work ... sorry.”

The evening slowly progressed from one uncomfortable silence to another. The Isaac’s deduced that Aggi and Leon had a fight. Part way through dinner, Aggie dropped her knife and started crying.

“I’m sorry,” she said, moving to leave the room.

“Honey,” said Leon getting to his feet.

“No,” she said, gesturing for him to stay. “I need a minute alone. I’m sorry, everyone. I’m okay. I just need a minute.”

Seconds later, Isaac heard the door to his den close.

“Leon?” he asked.

Leon shook his head. “Something happened to her at work today. An autopsy she did on a suicide of a child. She’s been doing this for over twenty years. It’s been years since I’ve seen her break down like this.”

“I’ve had a few tough cases in my life,” said Isaac. “Suicides of children are never easy. I’ll go talk to her.”

Isaac sat with Aggi in his den and she temporarily regained her composure enough to talk to him. She rapidly told him the details like anyone in her profession would.

Unidentified Asian female child between the ages of ten and fourteen. Found in a Dumpster in Surrey. Hesitation marks and puncture wounds on her wrists correspond to marks on her hand. Not defensive wounds. She used a thin rod of some sort, likely metal, to puncture and tear open the radial artery in her wrist, causing her to bleed to death. She had been scrubbed ... inside and out with bleach. No DNA. Stomach contents ... nothing ... as was her digestive tract.

After this, Aggi lost her composure. Through intermittent crying spells, Isaac heard about the torture the child had endured. Aggi’s words spilled out as a mixture of medical jargon and raw human emotion.

Isaac was stunned as he listened ... and found himself staring at the picture of his own daughter on his desk. Norah ... killed by a drunk driver ... but this ... Lord, why?

“Obviously victim to a pedophile who is a sexual sadist,” Aggi deduced, while struggling once more to gain control of her emotions. “Marks on her ankle show she was chained. By her condition and the phases of various fractures I would say she’s been held somewhere for at least three to four months. Maybe longer.”

“Who is the investigator from I-HIT?” Isaac asked.

“Connie Crane attended the autopsy. Incidentally, Connie said that the loss of sight in one of the child’s eyes, including how that occurred, will be hold-back information.”

Isaac nodded and said, “Corporal Crane’s reputation is solid, but I’ll still give her boss a call tomorrow. This is not going down as a suicide.”

“That’s what Connie said, too,” acknowledged Aggi. “Nobody—especially a child, could endure such abuse. Obviously, that is the reason she committed suicide.”

Isaac agreed.

They were both wrong.

Isaac sat in bed reading as Sarah stood in their ensuite, washing off the last of her makeup. He thumbed through the psychiatric text and scanned the page describing the profile of a sexual sadist:

The sadist wants sexual or psychological domination ... that may include imprisoning the victim through the use of restraining devices such as chains, handcuffs, plastic ties.... Acts performed on the victim may include whipping, electrical shocks, beating, burning, mutilation, biting, urinating, or defecating on the other person ... rape, murder ...

Isaac pondered over Aggi’s description of the victim. Everything that happened to that girl, except the personal touch of murder ... along with the burning, biting, urinating, and defecation. Then again, the child was washed in bleach—perhaps the last two acts had occurred.

“What are you reading, dear?”

Isaac quickly put the book down as Sarah climbed into bed. “Just work,” he replied.

Three hours later, Isaac got out of bed and slipped on his housecoat. He found himself sitting in his den, staring at his daughter’s picture.

My sweet Norah, you know the pain that Sarah and I have suffered since your accident. Some day we will be together in heaven ...

He turned his gaze to the window and out into the night sky. The child that Aggi told me about ... does she have parents? When they find out, what will they feel? Unfathomable, even for me to know.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to block the images of what that child had endured. Eventually he resorted to saying the Lord’s Prayer.

“You are faster than a monkey with stolen fruit!”

Linh looked up from the deck of the fishing trawler to the rope ladder dangling from the ship above. The young woman who uttered the words waved at her, and started her descent over the side of the ship.

Linh smiled and decided that she had descended faster than even a monkey could.

Very soon I will be together with Hang—and my new family!

chapter nineteen

It was seven-forty-five in the morning when Staff Sergeant Randy Otto received the call from Isaac.

“Are you still Corporal Crane’s supervisor?” asked Isaac.

“Yes, sir,” replied Randy.

“Are you up to date on this Asian child found in the Dumpster?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Randy. “Found the night before last. Corporal Crane attended the autopsy yesterday afternoon. She said it was a suicide but actually ...”

“This was not a suicide!” said Isaac, harshly. “Try reading section 222 of the Criminal Code! A person commits culpable homicide when he causes the death of a human being through threats or fear of violence to do anything that would cause their death! I don’t have the Code in front of me, but that’s pretty damn close!”

Randy had never heard Isaac swear before. What brought this on?

“Sir,” Randy said. “I am familiar with that section of the Code. Your description, as I recall, is accurate. I hadn’t meant that we were treating this case as a suicide. I only meant to inform you of that detail before explaining the unbelievable abuse this kid suffered.”

“Oh,” replied Isaac. He sighed and his voice softened as he said, “The pathologist on this matter is a personal friend of mine who was over for dinner last night. I am only too aware of what this child went through. I am sorry if I snapped at you.”

“It’s okay, sir,” replied Randy. “I have two daughters of my own. This case is particularly upsetting.”

Isaac was silent for a moment as he looked at Sarah and Norah’s picture on his desk. Now when he spoke, his voice sounded saddened. “I have to admit, I didn’t get much sleep last night—and when I did, the whole situation gave me a nightmare.”