beam in slow, rhythmic patterns around the perimeter of the queen-size bed, illuminating paw prints, another larger smear stain near the bedroom door that matched the one down the hall. Lily the dog, once more lying down.
“The dog didn’t bark?” D.D. asked.
“Not that anyone heard.”
“And yet, clearly the dog was distressed.” She indicated all the paw prints, back and forth and back.
“Distressed, but maybe more confused? Remember, as strange as it sounds, this wasn’t a violent attack. At least we have no evidence of a killer breaking into the home and overpowering the victim. Whatever happened, it was . . . subdued. Even the postmortem mutilation. He would’ve sat upon the body. No screaming, no struggling, no outward signs of the victim’s distress.”
D.D. shuddered. She couldn’t help herself. “He had a plan,” she stated out loud, refocusing. “He enacted the plan. And then . . .”
“And then he tidied up after himself,” Alex said, then frowned. “Which is the part I don’t understand. Even if it’s not a chaotic scene—no running, no chasing, no restraining—the amount of blood, seeping from the victim’s body, soaking into the mattress . . . The killer’s hands, forearms, would be covered in it. Not to mention his legs from sitting astride the body, his feet . . . This floor should be a case study of blood evidence. If not covered in bloody footprints, spatter, etcetera, then, at the very least, covered in smear patterns from him attempting to wipe up all of the above. So why isn’t it?”
D.D. saw Alex’s point. She could count more than a dozen paw prints from the dog tracking back and forth across the floor. And that was it.
“He cleans up in the bathroom afterward?” D.D. considered. “Maybe showers? I’m sure Phil had the team swab the shower and sink drains for bodily fluids.”
“I’m sure Phil did. But how did the killer get there? Levitation?” Alex swept his beam from the bed to the doorway of the master bath. The floorboards didn’t offer up one glimpse of stain. He lit up the brass doorknob as well. Equally clean of bodily fluids. Then, just to be thorough, he swept the high-intensity light beam across the cracked linoleum floor, tired white bathtub, pedestal sink, toilet. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
“Some kind of special cleaner?” D.D. thought next. “He scoured the space with a toothbrush and bleach, got every square inch. . . .”
“Possible, but probable?” Alex’s expression remained dubious. As he had stated, blood was nearly impossible to remove 100 percent. Hence, criminalists could build entire careers using blood evidence to catch savvy killers who’d bleached walls but forgotten the window latch, or loofahed off a layer of their own skin but forgot about the wind-up dial of their watch. Killers could clean only what they could see. While thanks to tools such as high-intensity lights and chemicals such as luminol, a savvy investigator essentially approached every scene with X-ray vision.
D.D. was struck by a fresh thought. “Let’s consider this from another angle. We have a killer who not only entered undetected but also left that way. Except on the way out, he should’ve appeared disheveled, even bloody from all the knife work. So how did he disguise all that?”
Alex shrugged. “Most obvious solution would be for him to shower after the killing, as you suggested. He washed off all traces of blood, changed into fresh clothes, then walked out the front door, just another guy in the neighborhood.”
“Except, as you said, we’d see traces of blood leading from the bed to the bathroom, not to mention on the bathroom floor, shower, sink. Meaning . . . What if he was naked? What if, after subduing his victim . . . before getting started with the main event, the killer removed his own clothes?”
“Prudent,” Alex said. “Blood is easier to remove from skin than clothes.”
“Other thing I’m noticing is
“The dog didn’t bark?” D.D. asked.
“Not that anyone heard.”
“And yet, clearly the dog was distressed.” She indicated all the paw prints, back and forth and back.
“Distressed, but maybe more confused? Remember, as strange as it sounds, this wasn’t a violent attack. At least we have no evidence of a killer breaking into the home and overpowering the victim. Whatever happened, it was . . . subdued. Even the postmortem mutilation. He would’ve sat upon the body. No screaming, no struggling, no outward signs of the victim’s distress.”
D.D. shuddered. She couldn’t help herself. “He had a plan,” she stated out loud, refocusing. “He enacted the plan. And then . . .”
“And then he tidied up after himself,” Alex said, then frowned. “Which is the part I don’t understand. Even if it’s not a chaotic scene—no running, no chasing, no restraining—the amount of blood, seeping from the victim’s body, soaking into the mattress . . . The killer’s hands, forearms, would be covered in it. Not to mention his legs from sitting astride the body, his feet . . . This floor should be a case study of blood evidence. If not covered in bloody footprints, spatter, etcetera, then, at the very least, covered in smear patterns from him attempting to wipe up all of the above. So why isn’t it?”
D.D. saw Alex’s point. She could count more than a dozen paw prints from the dog tracking back and forth across the floor. And that was it.
“He cleans up in the bathroom afterward?” D.D. considered. “Maybe showers? I’m sure Phil had the team swab the shower and sink drains for bodily fluids.”
“I’m sure Phil did. But how did the killer get there? Levitation?” Alex swept his beam from the bed to the doorway of the master bath. The floorboards didn’t offer up one glimpse of stain. He lit up the brass doorknob as well. Equally clean of bodily fluids. Then, just to be thorough, he swept the high-intensity light beam across the cracked linoleum floor, tired white bathtub, pedestal sink, toilet. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
“Some kind of special cleaner?” D.D. thought next. “He scoured the space with a toothbrush and bleach, got every square inch. . . .”
“Possible, but probable?” Alex’s expression remained dubious. As he had stated, blood was nearly impossible to remove 100 percent. Hence, criminalists could build entire careers using blood evidence to catch savvy killers who’d bleached walls but forgotten the window latch, or loofahed off a layer of their own skin but forgot about the wind-up dial of their watch. Killers could clean only what they could see. While thanks to tools such as high-intensity lights and chemicals such as luminol, a savvy investigator essentially approached every scene with X-ray vision.
D.D. was struck by a fresh thought. “Let’s consider this from another angle. We have a killer who not only entered undetected but also left that way. Except on the way out, he should’ve appeared disheveled, even bloody from all the knife work. So how did he disguise all that?”
Alex shrugged. “Most obvious solution would be for him to shower after the killing, as you suggested. He washed off all traces of blood, changed into fresh clothes, then walked out the front door, just another guy in the neighborhood.”
“Except, as you said, we’d see traces of blood leading from the bed to the bathroom, not to mention on the bathroom floor, shower, sink. Meaning . . . What if he was naked? What if, after subduing his victim . . . before getting started with the main event, the killer removed his own clothes?”
“Prudent,” Alex said. “Blood is easier to remove from skin than clothes.”
“Other thing I’m noticing is
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