Do No Harm

"I don't know about that. There's a hundred easier ways to fuck someone up." Dalton sighed. "It's just too bad neither vic got a good look."

Yale signaled to Dalton that he had a crumb on his cheek. "That could be something psychological, not just strategic." He pressed his fists together, lining up the knuckles. "Maybe there's another motivation to his not wanting to be seen. Maybe he's got some physical impairment he's ashamed of."

"Limp or something?"

Yale shook his head. "Probably not. Too memorable. Someone would've noticed-and remember, he's vanished into thin air twice. I'm thinking something less immediately visual. Something you only notice if you talk or interact with him. Glass eye. A lisp. Bad acne. Something. I think he doesn't want to be seen. I think he's afraid to be seen. Self-conscious. Avoids eye contact. As soon as the victims are aware of him, they have Drano flying in their eyes."

"Not a single fucking eyewitness. The goddamn ER doesn't post guards at the doors. Everyone comes in in their vehicles, so the guys in the parking kiosks are the gatekeepers. No one walks to the ER."

"God bless LA," Yale said.

Dalton scratched his head. "Well, now that we have two vics, at least we can rule out a personal attack on Nance."

"I don't know," Yale said. "We gotta cross-check records, see if there's any patients both Nancy and Sandra Yee treated. Could make sense. Nurse and doctor. Maybe they fucked someone up, pissed him off."

"They're reading like crimes of opportunity to me. We've found no evidence to show he stalked either of the victims. And believe me, me and Jenkins dug hard for any unusual shit in Nance's life." Dalton picked a loose string off his shirt. "I think anyone who stepped through the ER doors into the ambulance bay at that moment was gonna catch the faceful of lye. Yee just got unlucky."

"Smoking kills," Yale said.

"I think he would've hit anyone."

"Male or female?"

"Crimes like this, I'd guess he's at least sex-specific."

"Yeah." Yale nodded. "Yeah."

Dalton pushed a hand through his hair, leaving his bangs sticking up on one side. "Maybe he's got a vendetta against the hospital."

"Or nurses, or doctors. Or professionals, for all we know. Like you said, he's not picky with who he's hit so far. Tall Caucasian nurse and a short Asian doctor. Sounds like a porn." Yale popped a smile, then lost it at Dalton's glare. "Gallows humor. The one saving grace of the job. Lighten up. I want to bust the piece of shit as much as you do."

"You may want to bust the POS," Dalton said, "but I got three years in uniform with her brother, and I've eaten food off her table after more than one graveyard shift. I'm looking forward to losing a few bullets in this guy's skull."

"I understand," Yale said. "But that's of little utility."

Dalton glanced down at the ground, his neck wrinkling into another chin, and scratched his forehead. Then he nodded.

"Both assaults occurred during conventional work hours," Yale said. "Maybe our boy's unemployed."

"That would fit the low sophistication level of the crimes."

"The fact that we're dealing with an insecure, disorganized offender tells us something about the victims he chooses. And the locale. They'd both be within his comfort zone. This isn't the kind of guy to stray to new territory to hit his marks." Yale took in the breadth of the plaza. "I think he knows his way around here, maybe even works nearby, and he's familiar with doctors and nurses." He tapped his chin with a knuckle, a rare inexpedient gesture. "We should check records for plaintiffs in malpractice suits against the hospital."

"Though pursuing legal avenues would imply resources and wherewithal not necessarily in keeping with our profile," Dalton added.

"True." Yale snapped his gum. "I'm thinking he's too old to be a student at UCLA, but we probably can't rule it out given we're right on campus. You talk to CAD?"

"They're running a PACMIS and a CCAB, seeing if anything rings the cherries," Dalton said. "Should hear back tomorrow." When the Crime Analysis Detail officer put the alkali assaults through the Police Arrest Crime Management Information System and the Consolidated Crime Analysis Database, similar crimes in the area would show up immediately. The list would include anything in Westwood, on campus or off.

Dalton sat on the bench beside Yale, and they watched the burly patient near the hospital steps try to embroil a passing woman in conversation. She smiled curtly and kept walking. "Could be anyone," Dalton said. "Could be that fucker right there."

Yale shook his head. "No sir. Our guy fears women. That guy… " He stabbed a finger in the man's direction. "That guy's got confidence." A note of admiration found its way into his voice. "He'd be a keeper and a player, not a hit-and-runner. He'd be a Bundy. Our guy's a welfare Berkowitz."