Dead Guilty Part 19

Diane put her hands to her face. "Not the museum.

This is my worst nightmare."

"Wait a minute," said David. "Why are you worried about the museum? Whoever this guy is, he's focused on you."

"But he's coming into the museum. I can't have that. Did Garnett have anything else to say?" "Yes, he wants you to meet him at his office in about an hour. He's meeting again with Sheriff Braden. I have a file full of reports you can take to each of them."

"Good. I prefer going over there to them coming here."

"They're talking to Kacie Beck," David said. "Kacie Beck. Isn't she..."

"Chris Edwards' girlfriend."

"Why is that?"

"She was there very close to the time of death.

They've discovered a witness who puts her there even earlier than she reported-a lot earlier than her 911 call."

"I can't see her hitting him over the head, dragging him to the closet and tying him up like that. She weighs what, a hundred ten pounds at the most?" "They're thinking maybe she had help-like Steven Edwards' partner. But there's another Mayberry.

problem." "What's that?"

"It was in the report, but I'm not sure it registered with them. On Chris Edwards' nightstand we found a digital thermometer-the under-the-tongue variety that keeps the last temperature reading. Whoever used it had a 103-degree fever."

Diane pictured Lynn taking the liver temperature at the crime scene. She had commented on the early rigor. "If it was Chris who had the temperature, that changes the time of death by several hours."

David nodded. "Three hours earlier at least."

"Well, d.a.m.n. That's all I need is to tell Lynn Web ber she got another time of death wrong."

Jin came bopping through the hallway from the crime lab and stopped when he saw Diane and David.

"You tell her about the time and temperature thing?"

David nodded. "Just now."

"The babe at the scene didn't have a fever," said Jin.

"You sure about that?" asked Diane.

"Sure, I'm sure. How you going to break it to Doc Webber?"

"Gently," said Diane. She thought for a moment. "Okay, she's sure to have noticed at the autopsy if Edwards had any kind of infection."

"One would think," said David.

"The medicine on the nightstand with the thermom eter suggests that it was upper respiratory," said Jin.

Diane recalled Chris Edwards coughing a time or two at the Cobber's Wood crime scene.

"Lynn Webber probably hasn't alerted Chief Garnett about any possible change in the time of death, so here's what I want you to do. David, call her at home if she is taking time off, and tell her about the thermometer and the fever, and you are concerned about someone else being in the house and you want to know if Edwards was sick. That ought to give her enough of a nudge to call Garnett herself."

"You're going to tell him too?" asked Jin.

"Of course," said Diane. "I'm just trying to keep the peace." She shrugged. "I probably shouldn't bother, and just let the chips fall."

"Speaking of letting things fall," Jin said. "It was cut clean with a sharp knife."

Diane stared at him for a moment. "What was?"

"King Tut's jewels." Jin pushed his hair out of his eyes.

"Ouch," said David.

"It was postmortem." Jin grinned broadly. "That must have been some unwrapping party," Jin contin ued on his way through the museum. "I've sent a sam ple of his blood off," he called as he went through the doors into the museum proper.

"Garnett wants to see me in an hour?" said Diane. David nodded. "Okay. I have just enough time to test an idea about the rope."

"Don't tell me you discovered what kind of knot was tied."

"Maybe."

"This I gotta see." David followed Diane into her lab.

Diane flipped to the index of her handbook and looked under hitches. .h.i.tches until she found the knot she was looking for. She found the page and lay the book down next to the rope that she had trussed up with rubber bands. until she found the knot she was looking for. She found the page and lay the book down next to the rope that she had trussed up with rubber bands.

"They sort of look alike-in a way," said David, comparing the ill.u.s.tration in the book and the rope on the table, tilting his head as if that would give him the ability to see the resemblance more clearly.

Diane took the rubber bands off the experimental rope and looked around the lab for a place to tie the hitch. The cabinets. She studied the rope a moment, looking at the green and red marks that represented kinks and chafes. She secured one end of the rope to the handle of the cabinets above the counter. Then she made a crossing turn at the first green mark and a bight farther down at another green mark. After several complicated twists and loops, she placed one of the loops over the handle of the bottom drawer, tightened the rope, and stood back, surveying her work.

The knots matched up with her green marks. The red marks along the rope also met up with each other, showing that they had rubbed against each other. The loop around the lower cabinet handle also fit with her color coding-a kink with chafing on the inside made by rubbing against something it was looped around.

"Okay, what is it?" asked David.

"A waggoner's. .h.i.tch. It's not common, but when I noticed how the chafing spiraled around the rope, something nagged in my brain and I finally thought of this. .h.i.tch. It's a hitch for tying down a load in a wagon. It's kind of a cool knot. It's very secure under tension. But once the tension is released, the hitch comes loose easily. It has to be tied and set properly for it to work right. One of its characteristics is that if the knot is repeatedly tied in the same place, it really wears down the rope by the friction against it self from movement."

"I'm impressed. I really didn't think you could re create the knot in that sc.r.a.ppy piece of rope. How ever, not to rain on your parade, does this get us anywhere?"

"It was once used by waggoners. Some truck drivers still use it."

"Okay, that does get us somewhere."

"It doesn't mean he's a truck driver, but he did use this piece of rope often. That's why it's in such bad shape. It is the same kind of rope used in the hangings, and it was found at the crime scene. It's at least suggestive."

"Truck drivers travel quite a bit-perfect occupa tion for someone who wants to hide what he does in his spare time. Sheriff Braden's going to like this."

"Would you photograph this? I'm going to pay a visit to the Rosewood Police Department."

Chapter 23.

The Rosewood police department was housed in a new building constructed in a more modern style than the red brick 1900 courthouse to the left and the 1960s pink granite post office across the street. From the time Diane walked in, she could feel the unfriendly looks in her direction.

Even Frank's friend, Izzy Wallace, looked sheepish when he saw her. He still didn't like her. He no longer had a reason. Before, he at least had the excuse of the untruths told about her. Now he apparently just couldn't break the habit. He turned from the officer he was talking to and forced a big smile onto his fleshy face.

"Why, hey, Diane. What brings you here? How's Frankie boy?"

"He's back from San Francisco. Convicted his guy, so he's happy. How are you doing?"

"Just fine. Just fine. I understand that's quite some crime lab you have over there at the museum." He grinned, and Diane thought she saw some of the policemen look at each other and snicker. They probably knew she was pressured into housing it at the museum. Diane smiled sweetly.

"We're very proud of it. Good to see you, Izzy."

She turned to the sergeant on duty. "I'm here to see Chief Garnett."

She showed him her identification, and he nodded and pointed up the stairs.

Homicide squad took up the entire second floor of the building. She pa.s.sed reception and entered the main squad room. It was an open area with desks marking each detective's work s.p.a.ce. One wall of the room was a giant magnetic dry-marker whiteboard for attaching photographs, drawing social networks, or for simply thoughts.

interaction patterns, giving pictures to The board held photos of the three hanging victims from Sheriff Braden's jurisdiction, photographs of the Chris Edwards and Raymond Waller crime scenes, a list of similarities, a photo of Steven Mayberry's car, and a map indicating the location of each crime scene. It was not unlike the display she had in her own lab.

As Diane pa.s.sed various detectives and staff, some were friendly and spoke; others frowned upon seeing her. She had no idea what motivated either of the two camps. She smiled at all of them.

Chief Garnett ushered her into his office, where Sheriff Braden sat in a chair near Garnett's desk, twirling his hat in his hands. Diane had expected Garnett to have an ornate office, but it was basically utili tarian with faux leather and chrome chairs, metal desk and a long wood conference table. Hanging on sandcolored walls were diplomas, awards, photographs of Garnett shaking hands with numerous politicians and framed newspaper clippings. Diane wondered briefly if he had sprayed the clippings with a deacidifier so they wouldn't yellow. She smiled inwardly at herself. "Good to see you again, Sheriff."

The sheriff rose and shook her hand. "I got your fax. That's a lot of good information about those vic tims. Impressed me. We ought to be able to identify them real quick. It doesn't look like they were home less after all, does it?"

"No," agreed Diane. "They seem to have been well off."

She sat down at the table, and the sheriff pulled his chair around so that he was opposite her.

"You say you'll be able to give me pictures of their faces?"

"Neva Hurley is working a reconstruction now. She says she'll have them done quickly."

"Now, that'll be just real helpful."

Garnett sat down at the head of the table, with the sheriff to his right and Diane to his left.

"We keep as up to date with techniques as we can," he said, claiming a resource he only recently knew he had. Garnett looked down at the folder in front of him before turning to Diane.

"I thought it would be good for you to go over what you have so far. I've included the sheriff because there's a good chance the crimes are connected and I think it would benefit all of us to cooperate."

Of course you do, thought Diane. For Garnett and the mayor to make Rosewood the crime-solving center of the region, they had to have the cooperation of the surrounding counties. What better way than to cooperate with them first? thought Diane. For Garnett and the mayor to make Rosewood the crime-solving center of the region, they had to have the cooperation of the surrounding counties. What better way than to cooperate with them first?

"We're holding Kacie Beck right now," Garnett continued. "By her own admission, she was there right at the time of death. She called nine-one-one at eleven eighteen. M.E. put the time of death close to eleven. A witness saw Miss Beck drive up at a little after nine. It doesn't look good for her. I'm thinking that if she didn't help kill Edwards, she knows who did."

Diane took the folder from in front of Garnett and thumbed through the reports. She pointed to an item.

"My team found a thermometer showing a tempera ture reading of 103 degrees on Chris Edwards' nightstand, along with cold medications. If he was run ning a temperature that high at the time of death, it will push back the time of death estimate to around seven P.M. The M.E. didn't have that information when she took a liver temperature at the crime scene."

Garnett took the report back from Diane, removed a pair of gla.s.ses from his pocket and examined it as if for the first time. "We don't know that this was Edwards' temperature."

"Not now, but we took a swab from the thermometer . . ." began Diane. She reached over and pulled out the autopsy report on Chris Edwards. "Dr. Webber indicates he had congestion in his lungs." Diane looked for attachments. "His blood work is not back yet."

Garnett started to speak, but was interrupted by his phone. From the one-sided conversation, Diane knew it was Lynn Webber. Diane wasn't sure why she had bothered with this elaborate ruse. It wasn't a desire to spare Lynn Webber's feelings or reputation that motivated her. What she wanted was to keep on good terms with the sheriff-and Garnett, for that matter. Both seemed rather swept off their feet by Webber.

"That was Dr. Webber," said Garnett, returning the phone to its cradle. "She said the blood work came back on Edwards showing he had an infection and that he probably had a fever. That corresponds to what you were telling us."

Diane merely nodded.

"That doesn't mean that Miss Beck isn't good for it," continued Garnett. "But we'll have to let her go."

"No sign of Steven Mayberry?" the sheriff asked.

"No. He seems to have vanished. He'll turn up sooner or later-I hope alive."

"I just finished the rope a.n.a.lysis." Diane explained about the waggoner's. .h.i.tch.

"Well, I'll be," said the sheriff. "You got that from that old piece of rope?"

"It doesn't mean he's a truck driver," said Diane.

"I understand. But it's a place to start," said the sheriff. "Who'd've thought you could find anything in an old piece of rope like that?"

"You sure that rope belongs with the crime scene and it wasn't one that just happened to be in the woods?"

Garnett didn't seem to be criticizing, but rather the evidence appeared to excite him and he didn't want it to evaporate by being irrelevant. Everything that Diane did in the crime lab that impressed Sheriff Braden-or anyone else-was a feather in Garnett's cap.

"It has the same orange fiber on it that was on the clothes of the victims and on all the hanging ropes. The fourth noose and the Cobber's Wood crime scene also had the orange fiber, but no skin cells around the noose. It was never used."

Garnett nodded, looking satisfied.

Diane reviewed the evidence, crime scene by crime scene, starting with Steven Mayberry's truck, which was found on a dirt road near a small lake. "There was blood on the steering wheel and some smeared on the seat. We don't have the lab work back yet, so we can't say whose it is."

"It could be Chris Edwards', then?" said Garnett.

"Could be anyone's. We found Mayberry's finger prints on the steering wheel. Some were in the blood, indicating the prints were left when the blood was fresh. His fingerprints were also on the dash, the seat, the gas cap, and the back gate of the truck. Chris Edwards' prints were on the pa.s.senger's side dash, the inside and outside door handles and the glove com partment. On the pa.s.senger's side we found another set of unidentified prints. They were smaller and could be female."

"Miss Beck?" said Garnett.

"No. We have her prints and these don't match. Inside the car we found three beer bottle caps, and a parking ticket issued by the Bartram campus police. He had parked in a faculty lot at the university library. The ticket had a boot print on it that matched Chris Edwards' left boot. We also found carpet fibers that matched Mayberry's trailer carpet. There were also cotton fibers, but we won't be able to provide any distinguis.h.i.+ng match for those."