DF02 - Dead Guilty

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DF02 - Dead Guilty Page 9

by Beverly Connor


  ‘‘Sure,’’ Diane said, ‘‘but perhaps the sheriff would like a tour of the facilities first.’’

  Diane didn’t wait for a reply, but immediately began showing the sheriff the labs and the glasswalled work spaces. She explained to him how each of the different microscopes revealed hidden charac teristics in all manner of trace evidence. The sheriff nodded as she explained to him about opaque mate rial versus transparent material and the type of mi croscopes they required, about polarizing and phasecontrast microscopes.

  ‘‘The museum has an electron microscope that we contract to use,’’ said Garnett with pride that sug gested that it was his own piece of equipment. Appar ently, this made up for not doing DNA analysis.

  ‘‘We contract with the museum for several pro cesses,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Pollen analysis, soil analysis, questioned and damaged documents. It’s one advan tage of being in a museum.’’

  ‘‘But don’t your researchers here do some DNA work?’’ said the sheriff. ‘‘During the museum tour last year, some of the biologists said they were working with DNA.’’

  ‘‘They’re heavily involved in their own research projects,’’ said Diane, ‘‘and what they do is very differ ent from what we need. They’re not set up to process crime scene evidence.’’

  Diane hoped the gas chromatography, spectral anal ysis and electrostatic detection and the amazing range of national and international databases—AFIS for fingerprint identification, CODIS for DNA identifica tion, databases for fibers, shoe prints, cigarette butts, bullet casings, tire treads, paint, hair, plus all the soft ware that matched, categorized, imaged, mapped, and, correlated—was sufficiently interesting to get him off his DNA analysis obsession. The last stop was David’s bug-rearing chambers.

  ‘‘These are the insects from Cobber’s Wood. They’ll give us a pretty good estimate of time of death.’’

  ‘‘Dr. Webber said the bodies had been out there about a week,’’ said the sheriff.

  ‘‘More like three,’’ said David.

  The sheriff laughed. ‘‘Three weeks in this climate gets you bones.’’

  ‘‘Hanging slows decomposition.’’

  ‘‘I’ve found that Lynn Webber is always right on the money,’’ said the sheriff, still smiling.

  ‘‘We’ll grow out the bugs and give you a report,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘You do that, but I have to tell you, I respect the mind of a human more than I do the mind of a bug.’’

  ‘‘When it comes to brains, so do I,’’ said Diane. ‘‘But we’re talking about sex, and bugs are very pre dictable in that area.’’

  Laughter broke the contentious mood that threatened.

  ‘‘We’re just starting to process the evidence,’’ said Diane, ‘‘but we’ll tell you what we can about the murders.’’

  Chapter 12

  Diane led Sheriff Braden and Chief Garnett to a round table in the corner that she and her crew used for planning and debriefing. She sat across from them. Her crew filled the remaining spaces around the table; David and Jin to her left between her and the sheriff. Neva was the last to sit down. She pulled out the chair between Diane and Garnett and hesitated a moment before she sat, leaving a wide space between her and Garnett.

  The metal top of the table reflected a fuzzy image of all of them. Chief Garnett put his hands on the table and looked at his reflection for a moment. The sheriff’s

  through

  gaze still shifted around the room, looking the glass partitions at the equipment—no

  doubt wondering how much everything cost. ‘‘What more can you tell us about any connection

  between these two crime scenes?’’ asked Garnett

  when they were all settled. ‘‘It’s an amazing coinci

  dence that the man who found those bodies was him

  self hung a day later. Are we looking at the same

  perp, or were Edwards and Mayberry involved in the

  woods murders in some way?’’

  Diane didn’t know the answer to that question, and she guessed that Garnett didn’t really expect an

  answer.

  ‘‘I can tell you that the person who tied the knots

  on the hanging victims was not the same person who

  tied the knots for Chris Edwards.’’

  ‘‘How can you possibly tell that?’’ asked Garnett.

  ‘‘I know you’re some kind of expert in knots, but . . .’’ ‘‘My examination is not yet complete, but I’ve seen

  enough to know that the same person probably tied

  Blue, Red, and Green Doe, but not Chris Edwards.’’ ‘‘Blue, Red, and Green Doe?’’ said Garnett. ‘‘Until we determine their identities, we refer to

  them by the color of cord used to secure the rope

  when we cut it from the victims.’’

  Garnett’s mouth twitched into almost a smile. ‘‘Go

  on.’’

  ‘‘The nooses on the Cobber’s Wood bodies were

  tied by first making a loop with a bowline knot, then

  pulling the other end of the rope through to make a

  noose. I haven’t yet looked at how the rope was tied

  to the tree limb.’’

  Jin jumped up and left the room. It was such a quick

  movement, they all looked after his retreating back. ‘‘He’s going to get something,’’ said Neva. ‘‘You get

  used to his energy after a while.’’

  Diane’s cell phone vibrated in the pocket of her

  gray blazer. She fished it out and looked at the caller

  ID. Denver, Colorado. Who did she know in Denver?

  She didn’t recognize the number. Probably wrong. She

  let the voice mail pick it up.

  ‘‘I hate those things,’’ said the sheriff. ‘‘They’re al

  ways ringing at the wrong time, but you can’t do with

  out them. They cause a lot of automobile accidents.’’ ‘‘Actually, more accidents are caused by drivers not keeping their eyes on the road. Cell phones are way

  down on the list,’’ said David.

  ‘‘You don’t say?’’

  Jin came back and handed Diane a stack of photo

  graphs. She flipped through them until she came to

  zooms of the rope tied around the tree. It showed the

  rope wrapped twice around the limb with the standing

  end of the rope going under the two loops around the

  tree. It had an interesting twist—a stopper knot on

  the end to make sure the rope wouldn’t slip back

  through and release under the weight of the victim.

  The perpetrator had also tied a stopper knot on the

  end of the bowline knot and one on the end of his

  handcuff knot. The stopper knot was set—tightened.

  She had not yet examined what kind of knot he used

  for the stoppers, but she’d bet they were all the

  same knot.

  ‘‘Okay,’’ she said, ‘‘this is an anchor bend used on

  the limb, also called a fisherman’s bend—it was at one

  time used to tie anchors to ships.’’

  She handed the photos to the sheriff and Garnett.

  The chief of detectives smiled as he exchanged photos

  of the knots with the sheriff. Diane had observed that

  talking about knots did that to people—it made them

  smile, as though they were gaining secret knowledge

  about a really cool skill.

  David and Jin noticed it too. It was one of the

  things she valued about the two of them. They ob

  served everything. Jin, especially, could maintain

  pleasant eye contact, all the while taking in subtle in

  formation about a person.

  Neva sat very still with her hands clasped in front

  of her. She mostly looked at the table, occasional
ly

  making eye contact with Jin or David.

  Diane handed her the stack of photographs. ‘‘Have

  you had a chance to look at these?’’

  She felt that giving Neva something to look at and

  study might help her be less self-conscious, a quality

  that would make her a better criminalist. Neva took the

  photographs, glanced at Diane, and began looking

  through them.

  ‘‘The rope that hung Chris Edwards was tied with

  a granny knot, both on the closet rod and on the loop

  that made the noose. It wasn’t a noose that tightened.

  It was made so that when his head was raised, he

  would stop choking.

  ‘‘I suppose Dr. Webber told you that there was

  blood in his hair. She believes the killer may have

  grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back to

  stop him from suffocating as part of an interrogation

  or torture. I think she’s right.’’ Diane saw the sheriff

  give a subtle nod.

  ‘‘His hands were tied together by coiling the rope

  three times around his wrist and securing it with a

  granny knot. The hands of the three victims from Cob

  ber’s Wood were all tied with handcuff knots. And

  several coils of rope were wrapped around their hands,

  securing their fingers and thumbs.’’

  Diane turned to David. ‘‘Have you had a chance to

  check the ropes for blood?’’

  David nodded. ‘‘All the ropes that bound their

  hands had blood.’’

  ‘‘So it appears probable that at some point after he

  bound their fingers up tight, he cut off the fingertips.’’

  The sheriff and Garnett winced.

  ‘‘He also added another twist, so to speak. The rope

  from the handcuffs had a noose in the end that looped

  around the victims’ necks. They were tied so that if they struggled and tried to get their hands loose,

  they’d choke themselves.’’

  ‘‘Wasn’t taking any chances,’’ observed the sheriff. ‘‘I still don’t understand why you’re saying the

  woods victims and Edwards weren’t tied by the same

  person,’’ said Chief Garnett.

  ‘‘Significantly different knots,’’ said Diane. ‘‘The

  person who tied the knots on the Cobber’s Wood vic

  tims had knowledge and skill with knots. He knew

  how to set them and finished them off so they

  wouldn’t slip. The person who tied Chris Edwards’

  rope used granny knots. A granny knot is an incor

  rectly tied square knot. Even if he had tied a square

  knot correctly, it wouldn’t have been the right knot

  for that situation.’’

  ‘‘What do you mean?’’

  ‘‘Square knots slip easily. That would make it easier

  for the victim to untie himself. The person who tied

  the hands of the Cobber’s Wood victims with handcuff

  knots wouldn’t have used a granny knot on Chris

  Edwards.’’

  ‘‘Maybe he was in a hurry,’’ said Garnett. Diane shook her head. ‘‘If you know how to tie a

  handcuff knot, it’s just as fast to tie as wraps of rope

  secured with a granny knot.’’

  ‘‘If I’m not mistaken, aren’t granny knots hard to

  untie? That seems like it would be an advantage,’’ said

  the sheriff.

  ‘‘A good knot doesn’t slip under pressure, but is

  not impossible to untie. Knots such as the handcuff

  knot and the bowline knot are used by people who

  know their knots because they work best for what

  they do.’’

  Diane could see Garnett wasn’t convinced. The

  magic of knots was evaporating rapidly for him. ‘‘All the victims were hung and all had their hands

  tied behind their backs,’’ Garnett said. ‘‘The perp had

  a lot of time in the woods to get his knots right. He

  was in a hurry at the Edwards house.’’

  This time it was David who rose from his chair—

  more leisurely than Jin—and came back with props.

  He handed Diane a length of rope. She took the rope

  in her right hand and maintained eye contact with

  Garnett and the sheriff. They watched her fidget with

  the rope.

  ‘‘It doesn’t matter if he was in a hurry. It’s not faster

  to do it wrong if you know how to do it right, and

  our Cobber’s Wood guy knew how to do it right.’’ She held up the knot she had just tied. ‘‘This is a

  bowline. It’s called the king of knots because it’s very

  useful—it holds well and is easy to untie. It’s a per

  sonal favorite of mine.

  ‘‘I’m not someone who is extraordinarily gifted in

  knot tying. I’m a caver, and sometimes we have only

  one hand free to tie a knot, and sometimes we’re in

  very low light or darkness while we’re tying them, and

  our lives are depending on a good knot. Cavers learn

  to tie knots with one hand without looking. I believe

  our Cobber’s Wood perp was good at knots. He could

  have done it under stress and in a hurry.’’

  ‘‘Are you saying he may be a caver?’’ asked

  Garnett.

  ‘‘No. I’m just trying to convince you that people

  who know how to tie knots know how to tie knots.’’ The sheriff laughed. ‘‘Then are you saying that ex

  pert knotters never make mistakes?’’

  ‘‘No. We certainly do, but rarely do we tie granny

  knots. All I’m saying is that the person who tied Chris

  Edwards didn’t know knots or rope. The rope he used

  was old and worn, and there was an overhand knot in the middle between Edwards’ neck and the clothes

  rod from which he was hanging.’’

  ‘‘So,’’ asked Garnett, ‘‘what does that mean?’’ Diane took the rope and tied an overhand knot,

  pulling it tight. ‘‘I just decreased the strength of this

  rope by fifty percent.’’

  ‘‘You’re kidding.’’ Garnett spoke in a way that sug

  gested all his ropes had knots in them.

  ‘‘No, and in a worn rope, that’s significant. Chris

  Edwards was a husky, athletic young man, and a big

  portion of his weight was going to be on that rope

  that was barely adequate. It was another bad choice,

  like the square knot. The perp didn’t know what he

  was doing.’’

  ‘‘But it didn’t break,’’ said Garnett.

  ‘‘No, it didn’t, but it was too close to the breaking

  point to be a safe choice.’’

  ‘‘Well, you’ve convinced me about the ropes,’’ said

  the sheriff. ‘‘But that still doesn’t tell us if the murders

  are connected.’’

  ‘‘No, it doesn’t,’’ said Diane. ‘‘The evidence we’ve

  looked at so far seems to indicate it might have been

  a single perp at the Edwards crime scene. But we

  don’t yet have any indication from Cobber’s Wood to

  point to a single perp or more than one.’’

  ‘‘Could have been a whole gang of ’em,’’ said the

  sheriff. ‘‘And for reasons we don’t know, one of them

  might have killed Chris Edwards. It might not be the

  same one who did the rope work in Cobber’s Wood.’’ ‘‘But the evidence does give us an
MO for the per

  son who tied the knots on Chris Edwards,’’ said

  Diane. ‘‘He probably always ties knots the same way

  because he doesn’t know any other way.’’

  ‘‘I see what you mean,’’ said the sheriff. ‘‘If we find something all tied up in a suspect’s house, for instance, the way he ties his knots might connect him to one

  crime scene or the other.’’

  ‘‘Yes. It can’t be the only evidence, but...’’ ‘‘But it’ll give us and the suspect something to talk

  about in the interrogation room,’’ said the sheriff. ‘‘I have to agree with Chief Garnett,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘It’s too big a coincidence that Edwards was killed

  just after he and Mayberry discovered the bodies.

  Have you found Steven Mayberry yet?’’

  ‘‘No. Nor have any of his friends or relatives seen

  him. Frankly, we don’t know if he’s on the run or if he

  met with the same fate as Edwards. Have you found

  anything else interesting from the Cobber’s Wood

  crime scene?’’

  ‘‘Orange carpet fibers. Jin’s working on the brand.

  We’ll be able to tell you something about the se

  quence of events when we’re finished looking at the

  tracks and other impression evidence. We also found

  brown shed human hair.’’

  ‘‘Shed hair,’’ said the sheriff. ‘‘So you can’t do any

  thing with that. As I understand it, you can’t get DNA

  from shed hair—you need the root. Is that right?’’ Jin glanced over at Diane. He raised his chin and

  eyebrows so slightly that probably only she and David

  noticed. She knew what he was urging her to tell them.

  He’d been talking about it ever since he read the arti

  cle, and now here was a chance to give it a try. Well,

  why not? she thought. The sheriff was apparently en

  amored with DNA.

  ‘‘Tell me what you know about DNA,’’ she asked

  the sheriff.

  Sheriff Braden shifted in his chair and gave her a

  long stare. ‘‘Now, I’ve always heard you can’t get DNA from hair that’s been shed because it doesn’t have the root, and that’s where the DNA is. Are you

  saying that’s not true?’’

  ‘‘It’s not precisely true. Shed hair does have nuclear

  DNA, just not much of it. The root of a hair has about

  two hundred nanograms of nuclear DNA. The shaft

 

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