‘So, did they come from the same person?’ Penner asked, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.
‘It’s possible. I can tell you that both hairs came from Caucasians. Other than that, I can’t say anything for sure without doing a DNA comparison. If I get to it tonight, I may have a result in a couple of hours, but we have other things to get to ahead of this.’
‘I’m pretty sure the Captain wants this done ASAP. I’ll get him to give you a call, if you want.’ Penner knew she was pushing her luck, but chances were the Captain would want this done before anything else.
‘I’ll see what we can do,’ said Pete, feeling the pressure. He turned the monitor off and put the hair aside in a plastic bag.
‘Thanks. Find anything else on the sweater?’ Penner asked.
‘No other foreign fibers on the sweater. We also sprayed it looking for bodily fluids. Other than sweat, there was nothing. No blood,’ Pete said looking at the report.
‘Not surprising. The person it came from said they used it for running,’ Penner said.
‘Explains the smell,’ said Pete. ‘As for the baton, there were no fibers or fluids of any kind on it. There was some dust, but that was about it. I don’t think it was ever used. Or if it was, it was cleaned quite some time ago.’
‘Can you tell how long ago?’ Penner asked.
‘Not really. But the fact there’s a dust buildup, it would have to be a couple of weeks to a couple of months, maybe years depending on where it was stored,’ Pete said. ‘Finally the boots. Men’s size twelve. We swabbed them to look for blood or other fluids but didn’t find anything. I did do a comparison to the photo of the boot print from one of your crime scenes. I can say that the boot is the same size as the one that made the impression. The tread pattern looks the same. However…’
‘Yes?’ Penner said, anxiously.
‘There is nothing in the photo or the tread of the boot that can definitively show they are one in the same. The tread on the boot is in really good shape, no nicks or anything, nothing stuck in the tread that would alter the pattern. Same with the picture. I can say that the mark in the photo could have been made by a similar style boot, or possibly by this boot itself, but I can’t say for certain.’
‘And it seems like it’s a pretty common boot, too,’ Penner said.
‘Very,’ Pete said. ‘Actually, I think my son has the same pair.’
‘So,’ said Penner, ‘all in all, nothing conclusive.’
‘Correct.’
‘Right,’ Penner said, feeling like she could finally breathe a little easier. ‘Thanks for getting to this stuff so quickly. Let me know as soon as the DNA test is done, whenever you get to it.’
‘No problem,’ Pete said, turning to walk away.
‘Oh, one more thing,’ said Penner, reaching into her pocket. ‘Anything you can tell me about this?’ She passed the technician the bag with the button in it. He opened it up and slid the button onto a tray, turning it over with a pair of tweezers so the top of the button was visible.
‘Dress uniform button,’ Pete said. ‘Bit of an older design, I think. The department changed the design about five years ago. What do you want to know?’
Penner thought for a second. ‘Can you see if there are any prints on it?’ She figured if it did come back with Millar’s print in the system she could explain it away before telling him.
‘Might be tough, but I can try.’ Pete opened a drawer and pulled out a little bag containing a brush and a container of very fine black powder. He dipped the edge of the brush into the powder and dusted it onto the button. Before their eyes, a couple of lines and swirls appeared. ‘Got a partial print.’
Penner swallowed nervously. ‘Now what?’
Pete moved the button carefully to the slide on the microscope, using the tweezers to make sure not to disturb the dust. He looked through the eye pieces and turned a dial, bringing the image into focus. ‘Good,’ he said, turning on the monitor again where an image of the button appeared. ‘Now, I just select five points in the print, like this and we click to do a search.’ He moved a mouse on the counter, clicking to highlight certain lines in the print and clicked on a button.
‘How long does it take?’ Penner asked.
‘Not long at all. It’s amazing how quick computers are these days,’ Pete said as they watched the screen. Penner found that she was holding her breath again. After a couple of minutes, a message came up in the middle of the screen. ‘NO MATCH FOUND’
‘No match?’ Penner was surprised and relieved. Millar’s prints would be on file. All cops have their prints on file so if an unknown print is found at a crime scene, it can be ruled out as being evidence without wasting too much time. ‘So, the person who left the print isn’t in the system?’
‘Looks that way,’ said Pete. ‘Anything else we can do?’
‘No, that’s it for now. Thanks again for putting a rush on all this,’ Penner said. ‘Mind if I take the button back?’
‘Sure thing. We have the print stored, if we ever need to go back to it. It will also be compared to the database on a weekly basis. It gets updated all the time with new prints.’
‘Great,’ said Penner, putting the bag with the button back in her pocket. She glanced at her watch and started taking off her cap and booties. ‘I’ll let you guys get back to work,’ she said, hanging the lab coat back on the hook by the door before she headed back upstairs.
* * *
Grant logged onto Penner’s computer and made himself comfortable in her chair. ‘Must be nice having your own office instead of just sharing common equipment with all the other grunts,’ he thought. ‘Now, how am I going to do this?’ he wondered. On the intranet, there were databases full of all the information he needed, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to link them together.
The first database he went into had information on all the arrests made by members of the force. With some refinement and manipulation, he could filter the information down to only show people arrested by a certain officer. He put Detective Millar’s name into the search area and hit enter. The screen flashed and the information updated. ‘347 people. He’s been busy.’ He opened up a second database that contained a list of all criminals that had been released from prison, ordered by release date, latest to earliest. Unfortunately, it didn’t list the name of the arresting officer in this database. ‘Of course,’ he thought. ‘That would have been too easy.’ He started clicking on the different headings in the menu bar, looking for something that would be helpful. He checked the time—he couldn’t be late for his test. Under the heading Format, there was an option for linking databases. ‘Worth a try,’ he thought, clicking on it. A screen opened up with several places to input data. ‘Right, so here I can put the names of the two databases.’ He checked the names of the databases he had opened and entered the information in the fields. ‘Search criteria.’ He flipped back to the first database and found the name of the column which stored all the criminals’ names. ‘Offender Name. Right, so I have the two databases, searching on offender name. Looks good, I think.’ He hit enter. Another flash of the screen and there was a new set of data being displayed. ‘Well, that’s not right,’ he said out loud, seeing that it returned more than 28,000 rows of data. He went back to the screen where he could put in the search information, made some changes and tried again. After several more tries, he finally got what he needed. Out of the 347 arrests made by Millar, only 38 had been released. A few of these arrests were only for petty crimes. It didn’t seem too likely that someone arrested for stealing a car and doing five months’ time would ramp up to revenge killing. He went back to the original database and filtered the data down to only include people sentenced to more than ten years. He ran his comparison again and this time it returned only six names. ‘Much better.’ He looked at the information for the six names. Only two of them had been released in the last year. ‘Might be a good place to start.’ He selected the information and hit print. As the pages started printin
g, the police radio on Penner’s desk crackled to life.
* * *
‘Alright. So, that’s the end of the test. If you can just remain seated for a minute, I’ll get you unhooked,’ the polygraph technician said to Millar.
‘So, did I pass?’ Millar asked.
‘Sorry, I can’t say. I can only tell the Captain.’ He unclipped a heart sensor from the index finger of Millar’s right hand, and unfastened a sensor strap from around his chest. ‘Okay, all done, Detective. If you don’t mind sending in the Captain, I’ll finish up compiling the data.’
‘Thanks. Definitely an experience I never thought I’d have,’ said Millar, opening the door. The Captain was standing just outside. ‘Ah, good. So, I’m all done, sir. Can I go or…?’
‘Not yet. So, what did the test show?’ the Captain asked. The technician looked at the Captain, then at Millar. ‘Oh, it’s fine. He’ll find out as soon as you tell me anyway.’
‘Well, I asked him questions about each of the three murders and for each of them, he said he had nothing to do with them,’ the technician started.
‘And?’ the Captain asked.
‘He was being truthful.’
‘Told you, sir,’ said Millar. The Captain gave him a cold glance that made Millar wish he hadn’t spoken out.
‘So, he’s clean?’ the Captain asked, relieved.
‘Well, more or less.’
‘What?’ the Captain and Millar said, almost in unison. ‘What do you mean more or less?’ the Captain asked.
‘Well, I asked him if he knew who committed the crimes and he said no, but that showed some deceit. Not enough to indicate that he was lying per se, just not being completely honest.’
The Captain looked at Millar. ‘So?’
‘I don’t know, sir. The only thing I can think is that I may still have some doubts about Constable Grant, sir. Could that do it?’ he asked the technician.
‘It could. Any form of doubt will show as a deceitful response, so that could be the cause.’
‘Alright. Well, if forensics hasn’t found anything, I’m going to start leaning towards believing you,’ the Captain said. ‘Do me a favour and go and get Constable Grant, I want this mess wrapped up as quickly as possible.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Millar turned to walk away and then stopped. ‘And, sir? Thanks for keeping this civil and not treating me like a complete criminal.’ The Captain nodded and waved Millar off down the hall.
* * *
Millar walked back to the interrogation room to see if Grant was back yet. He wasn’t, but Penner was there.
‘How’d it go?’ she asked. ‘No bruising, so he didn’t try to beat a confession out of you.’
‘It went well. I was telling the truth, just like I told you,’ Millar said. ‘Where’s Grant? It’s his turn to get hooked up.’
Penner looked at her watch. ‘He’s not back yet. Let’s give him another minute, and then I’ll go look for him.’ She watched Millar standing awkwardly near the door. She just wanted to clear the air between them. ‘So, forensics didn’t find anything except for a lot of your hair and stink on the sweater. They said it could be a match to the hair found at the second scene, but it also could have come from any Caucasian. They’re going to do a DNA comparison—should have the results in a couple of hours, hopefully. And they also said that it didn’t look like the baton had ever been used.’
‘Really?’ Millar sounded mildly indignant. ‘I had used it a couple of times, back in my patrol days. I remember one night, there was a brawl in the Ladyslipper Lounge. You wouldn’t think a place with a name like that would be violent, but man, did they ever have a lot of fights there. I remember responding to a call this one night and almost got my butt handed to me. Ended up having to crack a couple of guys pretty good.’ Millar swung an arm, reliving the memory. ‘Man, there was a lot of blood.’
‘Well, you must have cleaned it pretty good, cause they didn’t find any of it,’ Penner said, with a smile, as she realized that Millar was trying to lighten the mood.
‘If I did, I don’t remember,’ Millar said. ‘Doesn’t sound like me to clean anything, really.’
‘Yeah, I’ve seen your office,’ Penner said. They were interrupted by the sound of running footsteps, and suddenly Grant stopped in the doorway.
‘There’s been another murder!’ Grant panted, trying to catch his breath. Hearing the commotion, the Captain poked his head out of the next room. ‘I just heard on your radio, there’s been another body found, over on Queen Street.’
Both Penner’s and Millar’s phones buzzed. ‘Dispatch!’ Penner said, looking at the number.
‘Go! The three of you, I want this son of a bitch caught!’ the Captain shouted.
They were already running toward the parking garage.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Millar jumped into Penner’s car and they pulled out of the parking garage, Grant following in his car. ‘Dispatch, this is Detective Millar with Detective Penner, we’re en route to the latest scene, followed by Constable Grant.’
‘I’ll mark you all as en route. Responding officer is on scene,’ dispatch came back across the radio.
‘Any details for us?’ Millar asked as Penner took a hard right turn, almost causing Millar to drop the radio.
‘Female, mid to late forties, single strike to the head. Tall individual wearing a black hooded sweater seen carrying the body along Queen Street.’
‘Someone saw him?’ Millar asked, surprised.
‘Yes, sir. Apparently he got spooked and dropped the body. Last seen heading east on Queen.’
Millar looked at Penner. ‘We’ll start heading that way to see if we can spot him.’
‘Roger.’
‘Grant, you copy?’ Millar switched channels on the radio.
‘Got ya. Man, you’re hard to follow! It’s like you’re driving a stolen car or something!’ Grant said, having a hard time steering at that speed while talking on the radio.
‘You go see the body. We’re going to see if we can find this guy. Apparently he was last seen heading east on Queen. We’re going to try to cut him off.’
‘Got it,’ Grant said. After another block, he turned west while Penner headed east.
‘Keep your eyes out, he could be anywhere,’ Millar said as Penner slowed down to a more sane speed. Up ahead of them, Penner saw a cruiser with its lights flashing. She pulled up beside it and rolled down her window.
‘You guys got anything?’ Penner asked the officer in the driver’s seat.
‘No, ma-am. We were told the suspect headed this way but we haven’t seen anything. I think the Sarge is coordinating a perimeter roadblock,’ the officer replied.
‘Good. If you see anything, call it over the open line—we have the radio on,’ Penner said, pulling away. ‘Which way do you want to look?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ said Millar. They pulled up to an intersection. To the north, towards the Parliament buildings, there were more flashing lights. He couldn’t see any to the south. ‘No presence down that way. Check it out?’
‘Sounds good,’ Penner said turning to the right, creeping along the street, shining the auxiliary spotlight on the side of the car on the doorways lining the street. The radio crackled.
‘Possible suspect sighting. Large, bald individual, wearing a black sweater running north on George Street.’
‘What’s the best way to cut them off from here?’ Penner asked speeding up. Millar didn’t answer. ‘Millar? What way should I go?’ Silence. She glanced over at him, but he was blankly staring straight ahead. ‘Millar, you okay?’
‘When you searched my basement, what exactly did you take?’ Millar asked, turning towards Penner.
‘What? What’s that got to do with anything? Where do I need to turn?’
‘What did you take, Sue!’ Millar was getting upset.
‘Sweater, boots, Taser and baton. What the hell’s going on?’ Penner asked, focussing on the road and taking the next righ
t. She thought this might the best way to meet up with George Street.
‘Only one baton?’ Millar asked.
‘Yeah, only one. Did you have more?’ Penner accelerated down the narrow residential street.
‘There should have been two in the same box,’ Millar said.
‘Well, there wasn’t. Definitely just the one, and we didn’t find another one anywhere else. Those two officers were good and thorough,’ Penner said.
‘Turn left here, I think I know where they’re going,’ Millar said, hoping he was wrong.
Penner took the next left, so quickly that Millar had to hold onto his seat. ‘How do you know where they’re going?’ she asked.
‘Take another left up here,’ Millar said, his mind racing. How could it be? It just didn’t make any sense.
When Penner got to the intersection, she slowed down, fighting to stay in control. As she turned she noticed the street sign. She looked at Millar with shock.
‘Are you sure?’ Penner asked.
‘No, but…’Millar couldn’t finish his thought.
‘But, why?’ Penner asked in disbelief. ‘And why try to frame you?’
‘I have no idea,’ Millar said. ‘Pull up here and let me out. I want to go in myself. Go to the end of the street and keep watch in case we wind up in a foot chase. God, I hope I’m wrong!’
Penner pulled over to the sidewalk and Millar jumped out. As she drove to the end of the street, she looked in her rearview mirror and saw Millar run up the front steps of his house.
* * *
A Striking Similarity Page 17