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a partner?” Annalise asked it more as a leading question than an actual inquiry.

Eric’s jaw clenched. “I’m not a student, Professor. And I’m not a complete asshole, so you can tell me if I’m wrong.”

Annalise inclined her head. “Of course, Fleet Admiral. Let us put aside the issue of the partnership for the moment. Dismemberment could be, one, due to perceived medical experimentation, most likely to fill a need to be seen as intelligent and skilled. Two, a way to dehumanize the victim after death, or three…” Annalise hesitated. “A final act of control over the victims. It’s close to the pathology of killers such as Giorgio Orsolano or Ted Bundy.”

“Bundy.” Walt looked up. He’d watched his share of true crime documentaries. “Bundy kidnapped, tortured, raped, and then kept the heads.”

“Yes, and he often revisited the bodies. They belonged to him, and he was able to find sexual gratification with them, even after death. The heads were kept as trophies, or mementos, most likely allowing him to relive the act by looking at them.”

Eric was so tense that the air around him was charged. “Orsolano cut up girls to dispose of the bodies after he raped and tortured them.”

Annalise spoke very calmly, with the firm but compassionate tone Walt recognized well. It was the voice he used when telling a family their loved one was dead. It was the tone for delivering devastating news.

“Of the two potential victims we’re focusing on, three if you include Josephine, we have the complete, pre-decomposition lower torso of only one.” Annalise tapped the picture Eric had put on the table.

Most of the woman’s body was there, laid out on a coroner’s table. Unlike the other victim, the…pieces…of this one had been found before advanced decomp could set in.

The body had been laid out like a puzzle waiting to be put together. A puzzle missing two pieces—right hand, left foot—but otherwise intact. That picture was on his tablet, as were closeups of the places where the body had been cut—across the waist, arms severed at the shoulders, hands at the wrists. Her thighs were still attached to her pelvis, but the legs were severed below the knee and at the ankle.

“Alicja Lewandowski.” Annalise placed a large picture of a smiling woman who bore only surface resemblance to the corpse over the top of the autopsy photo. “A Polish woman who lived in, and was found in, Krakow. Vaginal and anal bruising and tearing indicates sexual assault, though no DNA was recovered.”

Eric stood, turned, and hauled back his fist to punch the wall behind them.

The brick wall.

Walt and Jakob moved at the same time, both lunging for the fleet admiral. Walt hooked a hand around Eric’s elbow, though since he was still sitting, stretched out across Eric’s chair, it wouldn’t have done much good.

Jakob, however, was both fast and effective. He grabbed the fleet admiral in a Full Nelson, arms hooked under Eric’s armpits, his clenched hands braced against the back of Eric’s neck, forcing his head down and hobbling the movement of his shoulders.

Eric snarled and started to turn. Jakob’s shoes skidded across the floor as he was dragged. Walt and Jakob shared a glance, and there was a moment of understanding as well as a fair amount of oh fuck.

Even as Walt was scrambling out of his chair, bracing his body against Jakob’s—which was rock hard with muscle—Annalise got up too.

“Fleet Admiral. Eric.” She put a hand on his chest, her voice commanding. “This behavior is not productive. You are distracting us rather than helping us catch Josephine’s killer.”

That stopped Eric cold, and after a moment, Jakob eased his hold. Walt backed off so Jakob could let him go.

Annalise went to reassure the scared-looking waiter who was hesitantly approaching.

Annalise returned to the table, then cleared her throat when they remained standing. Walt sat down, and Annalise smiled at him. More slowly, Jakob resumed his seat. Finally Eric did too, but his jaw was clenched so tight that Walt was worried about his teeth.

“Dr. Hayden—” Annalise began.

“Walt.”

“Walt, what can you tell us based on the photos?” Annalise gestured at the tablet.

“I hate to put a damper on your theory, Professor, but I don’t think they were killed by the same person.”

Annalise and Jakob shared a look.

“Maybe it is the same person, and they got better, but…” Walt shook his head. “I’m not a forensic pathologist, this is not my specialty at all. But on some of these, it’s hard to see details.”

“I have additional printed copies of the photos not in the folder.”

“Well damn, you’re organized. I like it.” Walt shot her a smile, and when she glanced back and gave him a genuine, unguarded grin, he was surprised by his response to it. Annalise Fischer was—in a word—beautiful. Her chestnut-colored hair was currently pinned up, but enough tendrils had escaped that he could see it was long and wavy. Her light brown eyes captured his and, though it was a silly, romantic sentiment, Walt felt as if he could get lost in them. He forced himself to look away first, feeling the weight of Jakob’s gaze on him.

Walt put down the tablet and quickly sorted through the paper copies. It took him a few minutes, during which everyone watched him make four piles.

“Why are there four?” Eric demanded. “I thought we were talking about two people and Josephine?”

Walt considered making a comment about Eric needing to be patient, then decided to choose life rather than having his face punched in.

“Okay, this pile is all Alicja.” He stumbled a little over the pronunciation. “I matched up the closeups with the overall photo.” He spread out the detailed shots. Up close, it was actually easier to deal with, because it didn’t look like a person—just pinkish muscle, white bone, and cartilage. “If I was going to dismember a body, this is probably how I’d do it. Cut the legs off at the knees, and don’t try and mess around with the hips. The joint there would

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