Good Morning, Killer - April Smith [36]
Rick seemed to buy it.
“What if we’re looking at a serial rapist,” I went on eagerly, “and the reason nobody tagged it is he kept moving out of their territories? He’s shrewd. He manipulates these girls at the same time the police walk right by him. He knows how to fit in, not draw attention to himself, because he’s just like everybody else.”
Kelsey murmured, “This gives me the chills.”
“What are the lab results on the Santa Monica kidnapping?”
“They haven’t gotten to it yet.”
“Hello?”
“I specifically asked them to cross-reference the results. Arnold Reinhold, the head of lab, says, ‘We see this stuff by the bushel basket. Maybe a thousand a year,’ imitating Dr. Arnie’s hang-loose groove. ‘The only way we’d consider it special is if you had a bunch of these cases coming in and the same person in the lab got this stuff.’ I said, ‘Come on, you wouldn’t notice if some guy was choking girls with a metal chain?’”
We shared a look of cynical frustration.
“Just tell me: why a lab way out in Fullerton? With all the traffic, it’s faster to overnight the stuff to Quantico.”
“Politics,” said Rick, disgusted.
We had recently started using Result Associates instead of the FBI facility back east. Somebody must have had connections, because the Sheriff’s Department and the Santa Monica police had switched some of their cases, too.
“The good news is we recovered major physical evidence I think will be significant.”
“Such as?”
“The partial impression of the sole of a boot. On her back.”
Rick’s expression was dispassionate, but there was a silence in the room, as between the ticks of a clock, as we all ran through in our minds the picture of how a man stomps with all his might on the back of an unconscious girl.
“What kind of boot?”
“They’re checking the Bureau database of footwear impressions. Maybe a work boot. Or those thick-soled shoes the punkers wear?”
“Dr. Martens.”
“Rick, you are too hip for words.”
Rick winked at Kelsey, who paused uncertainly, taking notes.
“The victim reported the shoes were shined, so they had to have some kind of leather uppers.”
“Keeps his weapons polished.”
He winked again, but it was more of a twitch.
“What else do the propellerheads say?”
“They’re all excited about examining the reverse side of the victim’s T-shirt, but you know, that’s what gets them off.”
“Gets their rotors turning.”
“The inside of the T-shirt might retain skin cells that could be enhanced to show more of the shoe print,” I explained to Kelsey.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m still lost. When you said—”
Rick ignored her. “All of that’s a good evidentiary base.” He snuck a look at his watch. There had been an abduction of a minor to Iran that morning. “What was Juliana able to tell you about the offender? Anything about the method of approach? How hostile is this guy?”
I shook my head. “She’s still in shock. I know there’s more, but her response was guarded.”
“I don’t like it,” Rick said sharply. “If this is a serial rapist, he’s going to repeat.”
“The nurse was an obstacle,” I muttered, hating myself for the lame excuse. Meanwhile, Kelsey was clearing her throat and fidgeting as if anxious to be called upon.
“When’s your next interview with the victim?”
“Thought I’d give it a couple of days.”
Kelsey was raising her hand.
Rick: “We need her narrative,” putting stuff in his briefcase. “Sooner rather than later.”
“Can I talk to Juliana?” Kelsey was standing now. “I have experience treating battered women. I know the victim’s perspective.”
“Up to the case agent.”
It was a soft toss, meant to ease my humiliation. Working like this is intimate. You throw out ideas, you have to trust. Alone, his irritation about not yet having Juliana’s statement would have been part of the normal give and take; but there was Kelsey, making notes.
“I think it’s a bad idea. Juliana has already formed a bond with me.”
“A bond,” objected Kelsey, “is not the same as an empathetic relationship.”
“I am not her shrink and neither are you, and if you think that’s what