I sat in the office preparing reports for some of my paying clients, waiting on the package. Jax caught up on some of her work down the hall. Email let us keep in contact with each other. We agreed that by the light of day, much of what was discussed seemed ridiculous. It would have bee easy to stage the entire evening. Raven was obviously a troubled soul, she could be being manipulated by another and we were just caught in the middle. I wanted a crack at this case; proving it to be a routine murder might give some leverage to poke holes in Raven's delusions.

Finally, after ten, a package arrived. Coroner's report, autopsy report and crime scene pictures it was like Christmas and couldn't wait to start playing. I called Jax down and we went over the particulars together.

"Let's find out who we have here," I took part of the papers and gave the rest to Jax. "You go first."

Jax started with the coroner's report. "Official Coroner's Report blah, blah, blah, decedent, Hudson, Dwayne AKA 'The River' DOB 6/12/1982, address in North Las Vegas, age twenty-five, height seventy-three inches, weight two hundred twenty two."

"Good sized fella in his prime," I remarked.

"Identifying marks," she continued, "skull tattoo left shoulder, name Maria on left chest, Vicksburg Posse on right forearm, several others."

"Gang banger?" I asked.

Jax held up a finger and kept reading, "Rigor and liver mortis both negative. Occupation, Martial Arts Fighter."

"Martial arts," I thought for a moment before it came to me. I snapped my fingers, "D River Hudson, he's an ultimate fighter or what ever they call it now. I met him a year or so back doing some personal security work. Nice kid, put on a New York accent and attitude but was really from the south. Perennial under card fighter, he knew a little about a lot of different styles but couldn't compete with the top guys. Skip to cause of death."

"You have it."

I pulled out the report and looked it over. I handed it to Jax for translation into English from medical-ese.

"Hmm, interesting."

"Spill it doc, inquiring minds want to know. But be sure and dumb it down to country boy level."

"Ok, this section details several contusions, abrasions and minor broken bones, primarily in the face and wrist. All of that is attributed to his fight earlier in the night."

I shuffled some papers and came up with a flyer and a news clipping, "Here it is Ozeki Hosokawa versus Dwayne 'D. River' Hudson. It was the opening match at last Saturday night's fight on the Strip."

"How did it turn out?"

I read the clipping from Sunday's paper, "The night started on a stunning note as Ozeki Hosokawa, who lost his bid for the title last month, met journeyman D. River Hudson. The former sumo lead with his typical aggressive attack based on open hand slaps but D River had done his homework. He blocked most of Ozeki's attacks and handled the couple that made it through well until he could counter with a leaping knee strike. Ozeki easily turned that attack but realized too late D River was playing him with a feint. D River landed squared and an explosive left fist rocked the recent contender, leaving him wide open for an elbow to the chin. The KO at 51 seconds was by far D River's greatest victory and the most humiliating loss for Hosokawa. Hudson's overall record improved to six and twenty-seven with his second win by knockout; Hosokawa falls for the second straight match to a record of fifteen and three with twelve knockouts."

"Sad," Jax remarked, "his greatest win and less than twelve hours later he's dead." She looked back to the autopsy, "Drugs found in his system were vicodin and high levels of ibuprofen. That makes sense. Cause of death, exsanguination due to severe trauma to the neck made by an unknown tool."

"He bled to death?"

She nodded while looking over the annex noting wounds found. Jax opened the envelope with the scene pictures and spread them on my desk, "Oh my."

I grunted in agreement. The photos showed the late Mr. Hudson lying in a sandy area surrounded by litter. I noted that his body was found under the traffic loop of the Las Vegas Expressway. His face showed fresh cuts and bruising even through his dark skin. It was obvious that he had been in a serious fight. The worst was the neck. The skin was torn open splitting arteries and veins; the trachea could be seen as well. This was not a pleasant death.

"Blood," Jax said.

"What," I didn't understand.

"There is not blood all over the place. A wound like that should have left a big mess."

We shuffled more papers until I found the answer. "According to the police, this is a secondary crime scene. The primary where he was killed has not yet been discovered. The investigation has been turned over to the Organized Crime task force."

"So the police think the mob did this?"

"Maybe the wrong guy won the fight."

"I can see that being possible but let's start questioning the evidence. Somebody thinks there is more to this than meets the eye. Where do we start Gabe?"

"Let's take a look at the scene. I doubt anything was missed, but you never know. Then I think a chat with Ozeki."