David ed. - Face Off (2014) Anthology

“Good job,” he mused, looking at the carefully sealed bags. “You worked crime scene before?”

“Naw,” Lucas said. “But I lost a rape-murder conviction once ’cause some rookie tripped and dropped the perp’s shoe into Medicine Lake. It was the only evidence we had that would’ve nailed the prick and I had a very uncircumstantial-minded jury. The prick walked.”

“That hurts,” Lincoln said.

“Course, he went after another vic a month later. He didn’t pick well. She kept a five-five Redhawk under her mattress. Just a three fifty-seven, not a forty-four. But it did the trick.”

“Was there anything left of the guy?”

“Not much above the neck. Justice got done, but it would’ve been a whole lot cleaner if the CS kid had held on to the evidence. Taught me to treat it like gold.”

First, Cooper and Lincoln did a visual of the splinters and curlicues of bronze and other metals.

Using an optical microscope on low power, Lincoln compared them with the scraps found in the backs of the women victims. He was looking at the shape of the scraps, along with the indentations from the tools that had trimmed them off a large piece of metal—presumably one of the sculptures. “Tool marks look real close to me,” Lincoln said.

Lucas walked over to the high-def monitor plugged into the microscope via an HDMI cable. “Yeah, I agree.”

They next had to compare the chemical composition of the metal from the crime scenes with that of the scraps Lucas had found at the studio. Cooper went to work analyzing each one, using the glow discharge spectrometer, the gas chromatograph, and the scanning electron microscope.

“While we’re waiting,” Lucas said, pointing to a bag. “Possible blood stains. From the floor near his bedroom.”

Cooper tested with luminol and alternative light sources.

“Yep, we’ve got blood.”

A reagent test confirmed it was human, and the tech typed it. The sample, however, didn’t match the types of the women victims from the earlier scenes.

They tested concrete samples that Lucas had collected, too, and compared them with the concrete particles found in the women’s backs. “Close,” Cooper assessed. “No cigar.”

“Hell.” Lincoln then glanced at the doorway; he’d heard the nearly undetectable sound of the key in the lock. A moment later the female detectives walked into the parlor.

“How’d it go?” Lily asked Lucas.

He shrugged. “Some evidence fell off the truck.” He nodded to the equipment, merrily analyzing away. He glanced at Amelia’s outfit. “Damn, you need to go undercover more often.”

Lily hit him on the arm. “Behave.”

Lucas then asked the women, “What was Verlaine like?”

“Dangerous,” Amelia said.

Lily filled in, “He looks at you like you’re naked and he can’t decide what to lick first.”

“And then what to whip.”

“So the S&M hunch paid off?”

“Big-time. He’s the S all the way. Wants to be the hurter, not the hurtee.”

Lily explained about his personal Pinterest album. “Jesus, took all my willpower not to kick him in the balls. You should’ve seen what he did to some of those women.”

“He pressure you two lovely ladies to go home with him?” Lucas asked.

“Sure, but we had to postpone our threesome. Somehow his glass kept getting refilled. He was in no shape to tie anybody up after that much bourbon. I was tempted to let the asshole stagger home and hope some mugger beat the crap out of him. But Amelia was the mature one and we got him into a cab.”

Sachs glanced at the plastic bags. “What does the evidence say?”

“Just getting it now,” Lincoln told her, and grumbled, “Right, Mel? It seems to be taking forever.”

Mel Cooper, hunched over a computer monitor, didn’t respond. He shoved his glasses higher on his nose and said, “Interesting.”

“That’s not a useful term, Mel,” Lincoln snapped.

“I’m getting there. Lucas collected five different kinds of bronze from Verlaine’s. One is typical modern formula: eighty-eight percent copper and twelve percent tin. Then alpha bronze, with about four to five percent tin.

“Some other samples have a higher concentration of copper and zinc and some lead—that’s architectural bronze. Others are bismuth bronze—an alloy that’s got a lot of nickel, and traces of bismuth. One sample surprised me—it had a Vickers hardness value of two hundred.”

“That’s the bronze used in swords,” Lucas said.

They all looked at him. “For the role-playing games I write. Helps to know about old-time weapons. Roman officers had bronze swords; foot soldiers had iron.”

Amelia asked, “You think he uses bronze as a weapon?”

Lucas shook his head. “No, I think what it means is that he gets his materials wherever he can find them. Probably from dozens of junkyards and construction sites.”

“I agree,” Lincoln said.

Cooper added, “And there’s triethanolamine, fluoroboric acid, and cadmium fluoroborate.”

“That’s flux—used in brazing and soldering,” Lincoln said absently.

“Okay, the big question: any associations, Mel?” Lucas asked.

In crime scene work, very few samples of evidence actually “matched,” meaning they were literally the same. DNA and fingerprints established true identity but little else did. However, samples of evidence from two scenes could be “associated,” meaning they were similar. If close enough, the jury could deduce that they came from the same source. Here, the team had to show that the shavings found in the first victims’ bodies could be closely associated with those Lucas had collected from Verlaine’s studio.

Cooper finally pushed back from the screen. He didn’t seem happy. “Like the concrete, the flux and welding rods are close to the trace from the earlier crime scenes.”

Lincoln’s face tightened into a frown. “But those are used by anyone brazing, welding, or working with bronze. I want to establish identity with the bronze scraps themselves.”

“Understood. But that’s more of a problem.” He explained that four of the bronze samples at the first crime scene were completely different from any of the metal collected by Lucas. One sample Lucas had collected that night had the same composition as several fragments in the first scenes. The others were similar but had “some compositional differences.”

“ How similar?” Lincoln snapped.

“I’d feel comfortable testifying that it was possible the scraps embedded in the victims came from Verlaine’s loft. But I couldn’t do better than that.”

The evidence suggested but didn’t prove that Verlaine was the killer.

“Same with his behavioral profile and his history of sex offenses,” Lily added. “The S&M. It’s likely he’s antisocial enough to kill. But that ain’t enough to swing the jury.”

That irritating little “beyond a reasonable doubt” requirement.

Lucas told the women about the mysterious door to the basement. “I’m betting there’s something incriminating down there, but without a warrant, we’re not getting in.”

Cooper now put the pictures of the necklaces up on the high-def TV. “Trophies, I’m betting,” Lucas said.

“Crosses mostly,” Lincoln observed. “Hell, that means there are seven or eight more victims out there. Nobody’s found the bodies yet.”

“Or,” Lucas said, “that those are for vics he’s got coming up?”

Lily said angrily, “We’ve gotta stop this fucker. I mean now!”

“Trophies, some evidence, a behavioral profile that’s in the ballpark,” Amelia summarized. “He’s gotta be the one, even if we can’t make a case just yet. But the good news is if he’s the one, nobody from the department is involved. Verlaine’s just some lone psycho.”