Jeffry Lindsay - Dexter in the Dark

So as I led Cody and Astor to their weeping mother I was beating the bushes in the dark forest of Dexter ’s brain for some small partridge of an idea that the old Chinese general might approve of. And just as the three of us trickled to a halt in front of sniffling Rita, the idea popped out, and I grabbed it.

“Rita,” I said quietly, “I think I can stop this before it gets out of hand.”

“You heard what-This is already out of hand,” she said, and she paused for a large snuffle.

“I have an idea,” I said. “I want you to bring them down to me at work tomorrow, right after school.”

“But that isn’t-I mean, didn’t it all start because-”

“Did you ever see a TV show called Scared Straight ?” I said.

She stared at me for a moment, snuffled again, and looked at the two kids.

And that is why, at three thirty the next afternoon, Cody and Astor were taking turns peering into a microscope in the forensics lab. “That’s a hair ?” Astor demanded.

“That’s right,” I said.

“It looks gross !”

“Most of the human body is gross, especially if you look at it under a microscope,” I told her. “Look at the one next to it.”

There was a studious pause, broken only once when Cody yanked on her arm, and she pushed him away and said, “Stop it, Cody.”

“What do you notice?” I asked.

“They don’t look the same,” she said.

“They’re not,” I said. “The first one is yours. The other one is mine.”

She continued to look for a moment, then straightened up from the eyepiece. “You can tell,” she said. “They’re different.”

“It gets better,” I told her. “Cody, give me your shoe.”

Cody very obligingly sat on the floor and pried off his left sneaker. I took it from him and held out a hand. “Come with me,” I said. I helped him to his feet and he followed me, hopping one-footed to the closest countertop. I lifted him onto a stool and held up the shoe so he could see the bottom. “Your shoe,” I said. “Clean or dirty?”

He peered at it carefully. “Clean,” he said.

“So you would think,” I said. “Watch this.” I took a small wire brush to the tread of his shoe, carefully scraping out the nearly invisible gunk from between the ridges of the tread into a petri dish. I lifted a small sample of it onto a glass slide and took it back over to the microscope. Astor immediately crowded in to look, but Cody hopped over quickly. “My turn,” he said. “My shoe.” She looked at me and I nodded.

“It’s his shoe,” I said. “You can see right after.” She apparently accepted the justice of that, as she stepped back and let Cody climb onto the stool. I looked into the eyepiece to focus it, and saw that the slide was everything I could hope for. “Aha,” I said, and stepped back. “Tell me what you see, young Jedi.”

Cody frowned into the microscope for several minutes, until Astor’s jiggling dance of impatience became so distracting that we both looked at her. “That’s long enough,” she said. “It’s my turn.”

“In a minute,” I said, and I turned back to Cody. “Tell me what you saw.”

He shook his head. “Junk,” he said.

“Okay,” I said. “Now I’ll tell you.” I looked into the eyepiece again and said, “First off, animal hair, probably feline.”

“That means cat,” Astor said.

“Then there’s some soil with a high nitrogen content-probably potting soil, like you’d use for houseplants.” I spoke to him without looking up. “Where did you take the cat? The garage? Where your mom works on her plants?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Uh-huh. I thought so.” I looked back into the microscope. “Oh-look there. That’s a synthetic fiber, from somebody’s carpet. It’s blue.” I looked at Cody and raised an eyebrow. “What color is the carpet in your room, Cody?”

His eyes were wide-open round as he said, “Blue.”

“Yup. If I wanted to get fancy I’d compare this to a piece I took from your room. Then you would be cooked. I could prove that it was you with the cat.” I looked back into the eyepiece again. “My goodness, somebody had pizza recently-oh, and there’s a small chunk of popcorn, too. Remember the movie last week?”

“Dexter, I wanna see,” Astor whined. “It’s my turn.”

“All right,” I said, and I set her on a stool next to Cody’s so she could peer into the microscope.

“I don’t see popcorn,” she said immediately.

“That round, brownish thing up in the corner,” I said. She was quiet for a minute, and then looked up at me.

“You can’t really tell all that,” she said. “Not just looking in the microscope.”

I am happy to admit that I was showing off, but after all, that’s what this whole episode was about, so I was prepared. I grabbed a three-ring notebook I had prepared and laid it open on the counter. “I can, too,” I said. “And a whole lot more. Look.” I turned to a page that had photos of several different animal hairs, carefully selected to show the greatest variety. “Here’s the cat hair,” I said. “Completely different from goat, see?” I flipped the page. “And carpet fibers. Nothing like these from a shirt and this one from a washcloth.”

The two of them crowded together and stared at the book, flipping through the ten or so pages I had put together to show them that, yes indeed, I really can tell all that. It was carefully arranged to make forensics look just a tiny bit more all-seeing and all-powerful than the Wizard of Oz, of course. And to be fair, we really can do most of what I showed them. It never actually seems to do much good in catching any bad guys, but why should I tell them that and spoil a magical afternoon?

“Look back in the microscope,” I told them after a few minutes. “See what else you can find.” They did so, very eagerly, and seemed quite happy at it for a while.

When they finally looked up at me I gave them a cheerful smile and said, “All this from a clean shoe.” I closed the book and watched the two of them think about this. “And that’s just using the microscope,” I said, nodding around the room at the many gleaming machines. “Think what we can figure out if we use all the fancy stuff.”

“Yeah, but we could go barefoot,” Astor said.

I nodded as if what she had said made sense. “Yes, you could,” I said. “And then I could do something like this-give me your hand.”

Astor eyed me for a few seconds as if she was afraid I would cut her arm off, but then she held it out slowly. I held it and, using a fingernail clipper from my pocket, I scraped under her fingernails. “Wait until you see what you have here,” I said.

“But I washed my hands,” Astor said.

“Doesn’t matter,” I told her. I put the small specks of stuff onto another glass slide and fixed it to the microscope. “Now then,” I said.

CLUMP.

It really is a bit melodramatic to say that we all froze, but there it is-we did. They both looked up at me and I looked back at them and we all forgot to breathe.

CLUMP.

The sound was getting closer and it was very hard to remember that we were in police headquarters and perfectly safe.

“Dexter,” Astor said in a slightly quavery voice.

“We are in police headquarters,” I said. “We’re perfectly safe.”

CLUMP.

It stopped, very close. The hair went up on the back of my neck and I turned toward the door as it swung slowly open.

Sergeant Doakes. He stood there in the doorway, glaring, which seemed to have become his permanent expression. “You,” he said, and the sound was nearly as unsettling as his appearance as it rolled out of his tongue-less mouth.

“Why yes, it is me,” I said. “Good of you to remember.”