Behind the Yellow Tape: On the Road With Some of America's Hardest Working Crime Scene Investigators by Jarrett Hallcox, Amy Welch Page B

better cases,” Linda says, almost frustrated with her counterparts. And it really is the evidence that makes or breaks a case.
    “I tried a homicide case one time where I only had Polaroids of the crime scene and that was it,” Linda said to us, with a smirk. “Not to mention that when I needed copies of the photographs for the defense for discovery, they took Polaroids of the Polaroids.” (Note: This was not the year 1960, but the year 2000!) “The resources the training provided encouraged them to try things out, like [using] plenty of film, et cetera.” Now, it’s almost the opposite problem in Boone County—too many pictures. But you can never have too many pictures of a crime scene, and you can never collect too much relevant evidence. In fact, since the graduates have begun practicing their craft in Boone County, murders have been solved at an unbelievable clip. Within forty-eight hours of a crime, the Boone County investigators often have a case made and a suspect behind bars. In the Boone County Sheriff’s Office, 68 percent of all violent crimes were cleared by the criminal investigation division. According to the department’s annual report, there has not been one unsolved homicide since 2001. Compared to the national average for clearing homicides—40 percent—that’s incredible. And murders don’t happen very often anymore in Boone County. The word is out among criminals: stay out of Boone County. John T. Snow sure wished he had.
     
    “I knew I was in trouble when I saw the Boone County sign,” a heavily medicated John T. Snow slobbered from the Kentucky State Penitentiary, the prison where he is currently serving a life sentence for brutally killing Patricia Volpenhein. “I got friends in Kenton County [a county adjacent to Boone] who got ten years for doing something like what I did, but you guys hung me out to dry here.” Snow had been out of prison for only six months when he found himself back in jail again, this time for life. He was well aware of the potential price he’d pay by dumping Volpenhein’s body into Boone County. But with darkness looming and a taillight out, not to mention a dead body in the bed of his truck, he got nervous. He stopped just short of the county sign, in a field adjacent to a dump, and dragged her lifeless body onto the ground into what he thought was Kenton County. Unfortunately for him, he dragged her a little too far.
    Part of Linda’s plea agreement with the defense not to seek the death penalty in Snow’s case included allowing the Boone County CSIs to interview Snow on tape to discover what really happened on that terrible Saturday. Killers rarely if ever tell exactly how they did it—but Snow was proud of what he did and how he tried to cover it up.
    “Why did you move her body?” Detective Tim Carnahan asked Snow during the interview. John Snow had originally shot, stabbed, and killed Patricia Volpenhein in a different field, then transported her body to the one where she was found. “Because I knew those shell casings would get me caught; you guys could get my prints.” Snow had moved Volpenhein’s body because he knew that his fingerprints could be lifted from the spent shell casings. Like many prisoners who have nothing better to do while in prison, Snow had also watched too many crime shows on TV.
    “I should have used a revolver,” a visibly frustrated John Snow continued to tell investigators. Shell casings aren’t ejected from a revolver. They stay in the chamber, unlike a pistol, which can eject the casings up to several feet away. Snow would never have moved the body if he hadn’t been concerned about the cops finding his prints on the casings, something he’d seen on a television show. But Snow’s paranoia was what eventually did him in. According to investigators, it might have been weeks, even months, later by the time the body would have been discovered in its original location. By then, the case would have been cold, and