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west wall that itemized the weights of the deceased’s brain, heart, lungs, liver, kidneys and spleen. On the counter next to it there was a plastic bag filled with several of the victim’s organs. She reached for it and lifted it up. ‘Cancer had pretty much obliterated his lungs. He probably would’ve survived another week, maybe two. And this kind of lung damage means pain, a lot of it. He was already dying and going through unimaginable suffering. Why kill him like this?’
    No one said anything.
    No one knew what to say.

 
Eleven
    Los Angeles County District Attorney Dwayne Bradley was a tough-as-nails man who displayed no patience for anyone who even contemplated breaking the law. At sixty-one, he’d been a prosecutor for thirty years, and the Los Angeles DA since his election in the year 2000. Upon being sworn into office, he told his staff to show no fear in pursuing the criminal element, and to seek justice always and at all costs. Dwayne Bradley lived by that rule.
    Bradley was short and stocky, with just enough white hair left to cover his temples. His chubby cheeks went bright pink and jiggled ferociously whenever he argued a point. His temper had the shortest of fuses, and if gesticulation was the name of the game, Dwayne Bradley certainly was a champion at it. In short, he looked like an overexcited Mafia Don who’d decided to go straight.
    This morning, instead of driving to his office in West Temple Street, he made his way to the PAB and into Captain Blake’s office. He’d been there for five minutes when Hunter knocked at the door.
    ‘Come in,’ the captain called from her desk.
    Hunter stepped into her office and closed the door behind him. ‘You wanted to see me?’
    ‘It was I who wanted to see you,’ Bradley said from the corner of the room.
    If Hunter was surprised by the DA’s presence, he didn’t show it. ‘DA Bradley,’ Hunter greeted him with a polite head nod, but no handshake.
    ‘Detective.’ Bradley returned the gesture.
    Hunter’s stare moved to Captain Blake for a couple of seconds before reverting back to the DA.
    ‘Well, I’m not here to waste your time or mine with bullshit,’ Bradley said, cutting straight to the chase. ‘We’re all very busy and I appreciate that.’ He paused for effect – force of habit. ‘Derek Nicholson. You have been appointed as the lead detective in his murder investigation. An investigation that I will be personally overseeing.’ He tilted his head in the direction of the file on Captain Blake’s desk. ‘I read your initial report, detective. I also saw the crime-scene pictures.’ Bradley started pacing the room. ‘In thirty years as a prosecutor I’ve never seen anything quite like that, and I’ve seen a lot of sick shit, believe me. That wasn’t murder. That was an atrocity without precedent. A cowardly, deranged act of unimaginable violence by some scumbag who isn’t fit to call himself human. And I, for one, want the death penalty for that motherfucker. Hell, I’ll bring back the fucking guillotine just for this sack of shit. And I’ll be sitting pretty and smiling when his head hits the floor.’ His cheeks were starting to go pink. ‘And what the hell was that freaky thing he left behind?’
    No one answered.
    ‘Now, the crime-scene photographs show a totally chaotic scene, totally consistent with a rage outburst of immense proportions. But your report suggests the whole thing was premeditated and thought through. You’re saying the killer planned to lose control?’
    ‘He didn’t,’ Hunter said.
    Bradley frowned. ‘Didn’t what?’
    ‘Lose control.’
    Bradley waited but Hunter didn’t say anything else. ‘Do you have a speech impediment? Are you capable of forming full sentences?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Yes, what?’ Bradley looked at Captain Blake as if asking ‘Is this really the person you’re putting in charge of this investigation?’
    ‘Yes, I am able to form full sentences.’
    ‘So please, burst a nut.