Beverly Connor - One Grave Too Many

“A silencer? Out of plastic?”

“I asked Star’s boyfriend, Dean, if he knew how to make one. He didn’t. He may have been lying, but he did seem puzzled by my question. You can take a plastic liter soft-drink bottle and put it over the muzzle of a gun and have a onetime-use silencer that is moderately effective. Jay had plastic embedded in his skin. I think the killer used a plastic bottle silencer and Jay was killed first.”

Diane took the card with a sketched picture of Jay being shot by someone holding a gun with the silencer and pinned it as the first in the line of pictures.

“Since it doesn’t completely silence the noise, George and possibly Louise may have heard enough to wake up, but it was not loud enough to get them out of bed. They may not have even known why they woke up. But when the intruder came up the stairs to their bedroom, George was roused to action.”

She took her photos of the string reconstruction of the blood spatter trajectory lines and laid them in front of Frank.

“Where the strings cross is the origin of the blood spatters.”

“Amazing,” said Frank.

“Math,” said Diane. “The computer program drew these 3-D depictions. I fed the spatter measurements into the program and it computed the origin of the blood source, just as the trajectory strings do. The pictures are crude because I was rushed, but the math is right. I’ve placed the head of the victims. .”

She glanced briefly at Frank. She hesitated to use their names because it made it too personal, but she hated to call them the victims .

“It’s all right,” he said, putting a hand on her arm and squeezing it.

“The different positions of their heads are the sources of the blood spatters.”

She was glad now that the drawings were of crude artist-doll figures. It helped keep things distant.

“I don’t have the blood analysis that will help me know which blood belongs to Louise and which to George, and the superimposition of the spattering is difficult to determine at best, so new information may change things slightly. However, this is what I think happened: “George was partially awakened by the muted noise of the gunshot outside. When someone came up the stairs and into their bedroom, he became fully awake, probably put one foot on the floor, grabbed the bat by the bed and swung at the intruder. At the same time, the intruder fired the first shot, hitting George in the chest and traveling downward. George hit the intruder, possibly knocking the gun out of his hand. The intruder grabbed the bat from the injured George and hit him on the left side of his head. This is that first strike.”

Diane pointed to the crossed collection of strings closest to the side of the bed George was on. She then pointed to the picture of the figure partially raised up in bed.

“See this castoff here that hits the chest of drawers? The intruder swung the bat again, hitting Louise before she could get out of bed.”

Diane pointed to the farthest crossed string and matching picture on the storyboard. The picture showed that the figure representing Louise had moved, trying to get out of bed and away.

“Louise fell, probably unconscious, and he swung the bat again. Here’s the castoff going up the wall and across the ceiling. This time he hit George again, fracturing his forehead and nose. He swung again, crushing his cheek-bone. Notice these two points of origin are close together and nearer to the pillow of the bed.

“The last thing the intruder did was shoot Louise in the head where he had struck her. She was probably moaning or was attempting to rise. After that, he left.”

“Warrick’s thinking that because there were two forms of attack, then there were two people involved-Star and her boyfriend,” said Frank.

“It’s possible there were two people involved, but I think this is a reasonable scenario that fits the evidence.”

Frank sat back and looked at the storyboard. “Why was Jay outside?”

“That’s the key. He didn’t have alcohol in his system. He didn’t show signs he had been anywhere. He might have just left the house on his way to meet someone. If he were meeting friends, perhaps you can find them.”

“I’ve talked to his friends of record. Jay was a busy kid-soccer, Boy Scouts. He didn’t have much time to get into trouble or have secret friends.”

“Kids that age are good at keeping parts of their lives secret. But someone out there knows. Perhaps Star does.”

“Star? You think he was meeting her? That wouldn’t look good for her,” said Frank.

“Ask her. He might not have been meeting her, but if he was doing things his parents didn’t know, he may have confided in her.”

“It’s hard to get her to talk to me.”

“Get her lawyer to talk to her. Keep in mind too that the intruder did not break in. Warrick thinks that fact points to Star. However, Jay could have inadvertently let the killer in. It could be someone Jay knew and trusted.”

Frank looked back at the storyboard and photographs of the trajectory lines. “You’re pretty sure about this analysis?”

Diane stood up and stretched. “The math, yes. Any explanation will have to fit that geometry.”

“That’s interesting about the silencer. Warrick doesn’t know that.”

“Maybe that’s one thing she’s keeping back. I would have thought she’d have collected the plastic.”

“Izzy would know.”

“Would he have told you?”

“Of course.”

“Is he one of your poker buddies?”

“And fishing.”

Diane looked at her watch-7:42. It was getting to be dusk outside. Time to go home. Lack of rest was catching up with her. She looked at Frank.

“Would you like some coffee at my place?” she asked.

Frank’s face brightened. “Sure. You don’t make it like Vance does, but that’d be great.” He grinned as she made a face at him.

“Let me check my E-mail. By the way, any prints on that letter or the invoice to the Bickford for the dinosaur exhibits?” Diane went to her computer and called up her Internet connection.

“I’m sorry, I meant to tell you. No prints.”

“Not even mine?”

“No, none.”

“Well, that’s interesting. Shouldn’t there have at least been mine?”

She had several messages. One from the archaeologist Jonas Briggs. One line: Pawn to king three. She E-mailed back: Pawn to queen four.

“I would have expected it; however, it doesn’t necessarily mean the letter was wiped clean.”

The next E-mail was from Laura, her psychiatrist friend and friendly board member. It was about Melissa and the bruises Diane saw at the museum party. Laura had talked to Melissa’s parents-discreetly, she said. They told her Melissa was always getting bruises, ever since she was a kid. That didn’t sound particularly good to Diane, but Laura knew her friends and she was a psychiatrist.

Her other E-mails were from department heads and the newly arrived faculty-curators-the botanist thanking her for his lab and office space. She E-mailed him back, but decided to wait until tomorrow on the others.

Diane’s apartment was sparse. She’d directed all her energy into the museum and hadn’t spent any time decorating it. The beige carpet throughout came with the apartment. She’d purchased a large burgundy-and-gray striped stuffed sofa that converted into a bed. She hadn’t even tried to find one that went with the carpet. Instead, she bought an Oriental rug to go in front of the sofa and pretended the carpet under it wasn’t there. In front of the sofa she had a cherry wood coffee table. The only other pieces of living room furniture were a black leather stuffed chair and a stereo. Not an elegant room, but one her mother would have said had potential.