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been shaved. Short wisps of hair stuck out at awkward angles. It was obvious the woman’s haircut hadn’t been done by a professional, and it was unlikely the victim had done it herself.
    That left one possibility. The killer had shaved her head, and there was no doubt in Hank’s mind the hair the postman had delivered that morning had come from this victim.
    A tiny dark-haired woman was crouched down beside the body, examining the victim’s throat with a gloved hand. It was Chief Medical Examiner Nancy Pietek. She turned her round, cheerful face toward Hank, her bright eyes shining, and offered a short smile as the detective crouched beside her. “Nice to see you again, Hank.”
    Hank murmured a hello. “Victim was strangled, Nancy?”
    “Almost certainly the cause of death is asphyxiation by strangulation,” Nancy replied, pointing to the leather strap around the victim’s neck.
    The open mouth of the dead woman made the sight even more gruesome. She’d have been gasping for precious air up until her final moments of life.
    Hank had seen a lot of horrifying sights in the past fifteen years, many of them still invading his dreams, and he knew this one would stay with him for a long time. He shook it off, forced himself to concentrate on his job, and turned to Nancy.
    “Any idea on the time of death?” he asked.
    “Three to four hours ago,” she said, moving the victim’s head from side to side. “Rigor mortis has just started to set in at the neck and jaw.” She gently raised one of the victim’s arms a couple of inches and let it fall. “Hasn’t reached the rest of the muscles yet.”
    Hank looked at the victim’s left hand. She wore a wedding band with an engagement ring that held a tiny diamond. The jewelry wasn’t all that valuable, but if the motive had been robbery, the killer would certainly have taken the rings.
    And the hasty haircut the woman had received didn’t point to robbery, either.
    “Any signs of sexual abuse?” Hank asked.
    “Not that I can see. Nothing obvious, anyway. I’ll give her a thorough examination back at the lab and let you know.”
    A deep voice sounded from behind. “No ID on the victim, Hank. We’re hoping facial recognition or her fingerprints will give us something. That is, if there’s any record of her in the system.”
    Hank stood and faced Jameson. “Nothing on the body?”
    “Nope. No purse. There’s a small pocket in her skirt, but it was empty.”
    “Who found her?” King asked.
    Jameson consulted his clipboard. “A woman named Teresa Hanson. Came here on her break. An officer took her statement.” He waved an arm toward the street. “She a teller at Commerce Bank if you want to speak to her.” He jotted the name down on a clean page, ripped it loose, and held it out.
    Hank took the paper, tucked it into an inner pocket of his jacket, and turned back to Nancy, who had stood. “Was the woman killed here?”
    “Hard to tell, Hank. The beginnings of livor mortis on the front and side would indicate no. I’ll have a better idea after the autopsy, but it appears she was killed elsewhere and perhaps lay face down for some time, then deposited here.”
    “What’s the deal with her hair?” King asked.
    “That’s a good question,” Hank said. He told King about the unusual package delivered to the precinct that morning.
    King frowned. “The killer’s making a statement of some kind. Or sending a message.”
    “If the hair belongs to this victim, then yes,” Hank said, glancing at the body. “But first, we have to find out who this is.”
    Hank scanned the ground around the body, then turned to Jameson. “Any signs the victim was dragged here?”
    “Nothing. It appears she was carried.”
    “How much do you think she weighs?” Hank asked Nancy.
    “A hundred and thirty, maybe forty, pounds.”
    “Not an easy task to carry that much weight from the street to here,” Hank said. “The killer would have to be fairly strong.”
    “Why