ARC: The Buried Life by Carrie Patel Page A

have seen the open door and walked right past it? Besides, this was in the Vineyard. I don’t get the idea that there are too many hooligans running amok.”
    “You’d be surprised at what goes on there.”
    Sundar considered it. “Is it possible,” he said, “that whoever attacked Lin left a trail of clothes to the open door on purpose? So that she’d be discovered, I mean.”
    Malone began to walk. “You think the killer was looking out for her.”
    “He did knock her out,” he said, following.
    “The murderer has preyed on two defenseless old men. I don’t see him going out of his way for anyone.”
    They walked in silence for several paces, watching the Saturday morning traffic before Malone continued. “Miss Lin’s account doesn’t tell us much about the killer, so we’ll have to look for those answers elsewhere.” She turned to Sundar. “Next steps, Inspector?”
    “We can check on the coroner’s report if we return to the station now,” he said. “I don’t know if he’ll have anything definitive, but it’s worth a try.”
    “The Chief will also want to know what we found this morning.”
    A brisk walk from the hospital and its immaculate, white veranda brought them to the station’s familiar pavilion of impassive grey. A drop down the stairs, a turn from the rotunda into one of the smaller hallways, and a short march to its conclusion brought them to the coroner’s office. Malone knocked and the elderly man let them in, wearing crisp whites and a multicolored smock that had originally been white, too. The coroner’s eyes lighted with recognition on Malone, and he pumped her hand with surprising vigor, the corners of his mouth forming a crinkly smile.
    Malone’s own mouth melted into grin. “Good to see you. Dr Brin, this is my new colleague, Inspector Sundar.”
    Sundar extended his own hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you.” Stepping forward, he caught a whiff of something pungent. “Wow! I didn’t know that you embalmed specimens in your office, Doctor.”
    Brin’s smile dropped. “I don’t.”
    Sundar frowned. Malone could tell that he was entering dangerous territory, but the young inspector was oblivious. “Oh. Where’s that formaldehyde coming from, then?”
    “Young man, that is not formaldehyde.” Brin turned his back on the pair and marched toward his desk. Before Sundar could press the issue further, Malone elbowed him. Aftershave , she mouthed. Now it was his turn to blush.
    “Please, Inspectors, have a seat.” Dr. Brin put on his spectacles, two thick wedges of glass connected by a flimsy-looking wire, and lifted a sheet of paper. “I doubt I’m telling you anything new,” he began, “but here’s what I found: Cahill suffered a blow to the head, just below the base of his skull, after which he fell, breaking his neck. Death was instantaneous.”
    “With the blow or with the break?” Sundar asked.
    Dr Brin did his best to ignore Sundar while answering the question. “With the break. Any surprises here, Inspector Malone?”
    “Helpful as always,” she said. “Any way this could have been an accident?”
    “Oh no, Inspector Malone,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “This was intentional. The attacker struck with great force and precision.”
    “And the attacker? Did you discover anything about him?”
    “Nothing conclusive, I’m afraid. Simply that he or she was strong and agile enough to overpower a seventy-year-old man. And right-handed. There were no hair fibers, snatches of clothing, or foreign materials on the corpse or at the scene which could help us identify the attacker.”
    “So it was a naked bald guy,” Sundar said.
    “That’s all we need, Doctor,” said Malone. “Can you estimate when you’ll complete your examination of the second body?”
    Dr Brin’s brow furrowed. “The second body?”
    “Lanning Fitzhugh. The victim discovered this morning.”
    “Oh, him,” he said, removing his spectacles and polishing them on his