The Killing Hands (14 page)

“Was death instantaneous in these cases?”

The question seems strange, but I go with it. “As far as I know. I haven't read the full autopsy reports yet.” He's silent, and then it hits me. “You're thinking
dim mak?
” I ask.

“Yes.”

Dim mak
is often referred to as the death touch, and is based on the premise that striking certain acupoints can cause instant or delayed death. At Lee's school it's something we study as part of our fifth dan—something I haven't done yet. But I always thought it was more legend than science.

“There are two other deaths…two cases where the victims showed signs of the Ten Killing Hands but one survived and one died of a cardiac arrest. I wasn't sure whether to include them.”

“Tell me more about these two.”

“There was a victim in New York in 1996 who had both eardrums burst and broken ribs.”

“Tiger Leopard Fist and Heaven Piercing Fist.”

“Yes, that's what I thought.” I flick the ring on my little finger. “But the guy survived. It's entered into ViCAP as a violent attack, not a homicide.”

“Have you checked whether he's still alive?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Many of the
dim mak
strikes can cause death hours, days or even years later.”

“How?”

“Take the many pressure points around the left ribs. A hard strike to this area can rupture the spleen, but the bleeding can be contained by a membranous capsule that
surrounds the spleen for days. So the person can be without symptoms for days until the capsule bursts, causing death.”

“There was an L.A. victim from 2002 who died of a ruptured spleen, but I assumed it was from the strike to his ribs, Heaven Piercing Fist. He was dead when he was found and the forensic pathologist noted that the injury would have killed him within an hour or two.”

“In that case the direct force was probably enough to do the damage. But other strikes can cause much more of a delay between the attack and death.”

I'm silent, but I wish Lloyd Grove was here to weigh in. I guess that conversation will be tomorrow.

Lee continues. “Take a strike to stomach point nine, on the carotid artery. If you strike an older person or someone else with plaque build-up in their arteries, they can have a heart attack or stroke instantly, or days later when the loosened plaque makes its way to their heart or brain. A hard strike, even on a healthy person, can cause degradation of the artery.”

Again, I take mental notes to run all this by Grove.

“So it's really possible?” I try to check my disbelief. “To kill someone using acupoints?”

“Yes.” Lee doesn't hesitate.

Even though some of the medical stuff Lee's run by me sounds legit, I'm having a hard time buying the concept of
dim mak
…How am I going to sell it to Petrov and the others?

“What sorts of things can I look for to verify this? To prove it?”

“Death using
dim mak
can occur in many ways—one or more of the organs fail such as the liver or kidney, internal bleeding, or cardiac arrest…like this other victim.”

“He was sixty-two. The pathologist assumed the stress of the attack induced a heart arrhythmia that led to death.”

“That's one possibility. The other one is that he was struck on the many pressure points that target the heart, effectively shutting it down.”

“But the killer would need to be certain of death,” I say.
A hit man has to make sure his mark is down, and for good. “Is
dim mak
foolproof?”

“If the killer is skilled and focuses his attack on the heart, yes.”

“Oh, God,” I say, suddenly realizing that if Lee's right, anyone who died of a heart attack or heart problem in the past fifteen years or so could be one of our guy's victims. “This is—”

“A nightmare.”

“Uh-huh.”

We're silent for a few moments before I bring us back to the effects of
dim mak
. “So cardiac arrest would be the cause of death if the heart was targeted?”

“Not necessarily. The pressure points attack the heart in one of three ways—heart attack, ventricular fibrillation or something called heart concussion.”

“Heart concussion?” This time I can't hide the disbelief in my voice.

“It's real. You want the Latin name?”

“I don't think that's going to help me.”

“Can we meet, Sophie? Tomorrow morning? I've got some books you should take a look at, including one written by a doctor about how the effect of striking certain pressure points can be explained medically. It talks about how the strikes affect the nervous system, blood pressure, heart…everything.”

I'm silent, still trying to process it all.

“You there?” Lee's voice brings me back to the immediate.

“Can we meet tonight?” I ask, thinking of my 9:00 a.m. briefing.

“I'm sorry, Sophie, I can't tonight. But early tomorrow is fine.”

“How early?”

“I could be at the studio with the books by 7:00 a.m.”

“Great. Thanks, Lee. I'll see you then.”

I cook dinner on remote, still thinking about
dim mak
and the victims. I shake my head. If Lee's right…I'll never be able to trace those symptoms back. Reopen every case that involved a heart attack of someone involved in gangs or
organized crime? It's not going to happen. And that's assuming our hit man only targets this subset of individuals.

I'm in the middle of dinner when I stop thinking about
dim mak
and its effects on the heart long enough to remember Corey Casey. I leave my dinner on the table and go through his file in search of a phone number. I find one and dial it.

“Hello.” A woman's sleepy voice.

I suddenly realize I've dialed a New York number, and they're three hours ahead of us. It's after midnight there. “Hi. I'm sorry to bother you this late at night but my name's Agent Sophie Anderson from the FBI and I'm trying to track down a Corey Casey. Have I got the right number?”

“Corey Casey was my husband. But he died four years ago.”

It hits me like a slap in the face, even though Lee prepared me for the possibility of a delayed death.

“Hello?”

“Sorry,” I say. “Do you mind me asking what he died of?”

“You're from the FBI?” She confirms my identity.

“That's right, ma'am. I'm sorry, I know the accent's confusing.”

She gives a little snort of air. “Yes.”

“I work in the L.A. field office and we're investigating a death that we think may be related to your husband's 1996 attack.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “My husband died of liver failure.”

I
pull into the kung fu studio's parking lot right at 7:00 a.m. I spent part of last night doing a few Internet searches on
dim mak
, but then decided to focus on the ViCAP files purely in light of the Ten Killing Hands, not pressure-point strikes, too. Besides, I want to see Lee's books firsthand. If I truly believe
dim mak
is in the equation, I'll need to go back to ViCAP anyway.

The doors are locked when I arrive, so I ring the buzzer. Within a few minutes the heavy double doors open and I'm greeted by Lee. He looks like I feel—tired.

“Hi,” he says.

“Morning. Sorry to get you out here so early. I really appreciate it.”

“That's okay. If your killer really is using
dim mak
…” Lee trails off, lets out a deep sigh and then leads the way into the building. Inside, he opens the door to his glass office and takes a seat.

On the desk sit four books. I glance at the titles—all of which include the word
dim mak
—while pulling out a two-page table I drafted last night. The table contains all nine victims I think may be related, arranged in date order. The last entry is Jun Saito's murder. In all, there are eight headings—
Date, Location, Name, Age, Association, Cause
of death, Other injuries
and
Status
. I've blacked out the victims' names in the copy I'll go through with Lee.

“This table summarizes the victims' injuries, as well as locations and other investigative elements.” I place the stapled pages in front of Lee.

He puts on small-framed glasses and taps the top book in his pile. “I'll swap you. This book goes through all the medical stuff. You might want to have a look at it, even contact the author. He's the one who talks about the heart concussion, too. The timing has to be precise—in between heartbeats—but it is possible by a skilled practitioner. I've marked some of the key pages, the key symptoms and medical explanations.”

I nod. “Thanks.” I flick through the book, while Lee reads through the table.

Once he's finished he looks up at me, his eyebrows furrowed. “Sophie, this is not good.”

I presume he's stating the obvious—but maybe I should check. “As opposed to any other type of murder?”

“Sorry, what I mean is it's not good for you, for the FBI or anyone else trying to bring this man to justice. Your killer is extremely skilled.”

“So there's no doubt in your mind that the injuries listed are most likely caused by the Ten Killing Hands?”

“No.” He pauses. “Although I would like to know more about the breaks for the victims that had broken ribs and broken elbow joints…not to mention your 2001 victim with the broken coccyx. Exactly where were the breaks? What types of breaks were they?”

I've already carefully analyzed the breaks myself, but a second opinion can't hurt. I take him through each person and their injuries, describing the exact locations and angle of force determined by the forensic pathologists who worked each case. “Well?”

“Most definitely kung fu.” He nods reluctantly. “Some of these patterns of injuries are quite unique.”

“That's what I thought.” I sigh. “But the pressure points…that's a whole new level. A new layer.”

“Yes, it is. And it makes your killer all the more dangerous.”

“We think the perpetrator might be from China. Flown in for these jobs. Given we're dealing with organized crime and the upper echelons of it, the person putting out the contract is more likely to bring in someone external.”

Lee nods. “A Chinese national might tie in with the
dim mak
, too. Here,
dim mak
is seen as a party trick or the stuff of movies. But in China, where acupoints are ingrained in our society, it's a much more practiced and treasured form of martial arts…and healing arts.”

“Healing?”

“The points are struck to cause pain and death, but they can be massaged or stimulated with acupuncture for healing purposes. They go hand in hand, for use as a weapon or as a healing tool. Yin and Yang.”

I'm already screening for my briefing. I think Yin and Yang might go over as well as psychic visions with Petrov and the others. And I'm also thinking about the investigative part of this case. Latoya's already told me China's going to be a tough cookie to crumble, maybe Lee can help.

“Did you train in China? Or do you know someone over there who might be able to help?” I don't bother explaining that China's not part of Interpol, making direct contact difficult for me.

“I trained in China from the time I was five to fifteen, when we emigrated. But that's many years ago now. I'm not sure if any of the people I trained or competed against would still be active. Or that they'd be able to help us in any way.”

“But they might?”

He clasps his hands together. “I'll see what I can do.” He leans forward. “I also have a cousin who's a police officer in Beijing. Maybe he can help you. He could see if anyone's been killing in China using kung fu and
dim mak
. Maybe there have been similar attacks over there.”

“It'd be great to have direct contact with the Chinese police, thanks. I'll put together some key elements of the type of person we're looking for, and maybe then you could contact your cousin. That will be faster and easier than using official channels.”

He nods. “Yes, I'm sure it will be. China is not exactly open to sharing sensitive information.” He leans back in his chair. “I'll check with Chung. He may want to keep it unofficial.”

“Fine with me.”

“And as for here, I can probably give you some names in the US—you know, who I think would be capable of inflicting these types of injuries. Would that be helpful?”

I think about the offer. Petrov's sure the hitter is international, but it's always good to keep our minds open. Petrov may be wrong. “Yeah, that'd be great. You think it'll be a long list?”

“Yup. And it will take me some time to compile.”

I nod.

“It won't be exhaustive, but I'll give you as many names as I can.” He raises his eyebrows. “Not many people are skilled enough to perform the acupoint applications, not as precisely as a professional killer. Many people may try this technique, but not many could kill efficiently with it.”

Dim mak
…is it really possible? I'm certainly looking forward to reading the books and talking to Grove about it. Or maybe finding evidence to support Lee's theory.

“I've been thinking about how to prove it,” I say. “The only real evidence would be bruises at the acupoints, correct?”

“Yes, but that's still not going to give you proof. If we're dealing with delayed death, the bruises would be long gone. And if death was instant you wouldn't see a bruise—they take at least a few hours to show up.”

Not entirely true. “We can't check with these first victims, but our Little Tokyo victim is still at the morgue. And a forensic pathologist can check under the skin, can see bruises that didn't have time to show up on the skin's surface.”

“Really? Then you're right, you can confirm if his attacker used pressure points.”

“If I know where to look, yes.”

“Tell me everything you can about this victim, and I'll give you some likely points to check.” He fingers his glasses. “Many of the points attack nerve bundles—they may show signs of trauma, too.”

“The vagus nerve.” I instantly visualize Grove pointing to Saito's vagus nerve and commenting on its condition.

“Yes, that is one of the pressure-point targets. Your victim showed signs of this?”

“Yes. The forensic pathologist described it as inflamed. He thought it was from the trauma to the throat in general, but maybe it was more specific than that.”

Lee's nodding. “It was probably targeted by your killer. It's one of the death-touch strikes.”