from the top of the toilet tank. “I think so; from the evidence, I’d say it was through one of the living-room windows.” He focused on the windowsill, took a shot, and then climbed down.
“What about that?” I pointed at the high window.
“It was locked and painted shut. I’ve documented all the windows, just in case it comes up later.”
That fit Tyler’s character perfectly—a scientist in cop’s clothing. His job description was as broad as the rest of ours, encompassing all the usual duties of a small-town detective; but where some of us relished working the streets and the snitches, J.P. was most at home in forensics. I often wished we had both the budget and the business flow to have him specialize only in that.
“You about finished?” I asked him.
“Yup. That was my last stop.” He led us toward the living room. “As far as I can tell, the guy entered through here, using a knife or a shim to slide the lock back on the window.”
He kneeled on the sofa in front of the row of sash windows and pointed to the middle one. “This is the intriguing part, and what makes me think whoever did this was invited inside the house at least once before: See this lock?”
He manipulated the ancient clasp that swiveled from the top of the lower window frame to grasp the bracket attached to the bottom of the upper frame. It swung to and fro so loosely that he barely had to touch it.
“Just slipping a blade up between the frames from the outside is enough to pop this open. In itself that’s no big surprise—these are notoriously lousy locks—but this is the only one in the house that’s this loose, and the only one of the older windows to open easily. In fact, all the others are either jammed or painted shut, or are newer windows with more pickproof locks.”
Tony frowned and unconsciously pulled his pipe from his pocket and began filling it. Tyler’s not protesting was a sure sign he’d finished his search.
“Any prints outside the window?” I asked.
J.P. shook his head. “Ground’s dry and hard. Dennis and his crew didn’t find anything outside. I did come up with something here, though.” He pointed at the sofa he was still kneeling on. “A trace of vegetable matter. Assuming he did enter this way, he had to step on the sofa to get to the floor, so I’m hoping what I found came off his shoe.”
I looked dubiously at the dozens of house plants that Gail had placed on almost every flat surface available. Tyler answered my question before it was out. “I took samples of all the plants to rule them out. I’d also like to remove the lower half of this window and replace it with plywood. Some tool marks were left on the wood and the lock. If we find this guy, we might be able to match his pocket knife, or whatever he used, to the marks.”
I nodded my approval and turned to face the building’s interior. “So you think he entered here, went straight up to the bedroom, and then left by the front door?”
“Yeah.” Tyler led us from the living room to the staircase leading up to the bedroom. “And by now, I’m almost positive he brought both the knife and the rope with him. I found Gail’s knives in a rack in the kitchen, all arranged by size. There don’t seem to be any missing, and they’re all clean as a whistle.”
He looked back over his shoulder as he began climbing the stairs. “Of course, the guy could’ve used one of them and washed up afterward, but I didn’t see any evidence of that. As for the rope, there’s none in the house that matches what he used. Joe, did Gail have a sports knife or a pocket knife tucked away anywhere? Something he might have found easily and used?”
I thought about that for a moment. “She has a Swiss Army knife she carries in her purse, or on her belt when she goes camping. She didn’t say it was missing.”
“You might double-check, and ask her about the rope and the window lock, too, just to see if something comes to mind. Maybe some
“What about that?” I pointed at the high window.
“It was locked and painted shut. I’ve documented all the windows, just in case it comes up later.”
That fit Tyler’s character perfectly—a scientist in cop’s clothing. His job description was as broad as the rest of ours, encompassing all the usual duties of a small-town detective; but where some of us relished working the streets and the snitches, J.P. was most at home in forensics. I often wished we had both the budget and the business flow to have him specialize only in that.
“You about finished?” I asked him.
“Yup. That was my last stop.” He led us toward the living room. “As far as I can tell, the guy entered through here, using a knife or a shim to slide the lock back on the window.”
He kneeled on the sofa in front of the row of sash windows and pointed to the middle one. “This is the intriguing part, and what makes me think whoever did this was invited inside the house at least once before: See this lock?”
He manipulated the ancient clasp that swiveled from the top of the lower window frame to grasp the bracket attached to the bottom of the upper frame. It swung to and fro so loosely that he barely had to touch it.
“Just slipping a blade up between the frames from the outside is enough to pop this open. In itself that’s no big surprise—these are notoriously lousy locks—but this is the only one in the house that’s this loose, and the only one of the older windows to open easily. In fact, all the others are either jammed or painted shut, or are newer windows with more pickproof locks.”
Tony frowned and unconsciously pulled his pipe from his pocket and began filling it. Tyler’s not protesting was a sure sign he’d finished his search.
“Any prints outside the window?” I asked.
J.P. shook his head. “Ground’s dry and hard. Dennis and his crew didn’t find anything outside. I did come up with something here, though.” He pointed at the sofa he was still kneeling on. “A trace of vegetable matter. Assuming he did enter this way, he had to step on the sofa to get to the floor, so I’m hoping what I found came off his shoe.”
I looked dubiously at the dozens of house plants that Gail had placed on almost every flat surface available. Tyler answered my question before it was out. “I took samples of all the plants to rule them out. I’d also like to remove the lower half of this window and replace it with plywood. Some tool marks were left on the wood and the lock. If we find this guy, we might be able to match his pocket knife, or whatever he used, to the marks.”
I nodded my approval and turned to face the building’s interior. “So you think he entered here, went straight up to the bedroom, and then left by the front door?”
“Yeah.” Tyler led us from the living room to the staircase leading up to the bedroom. “And by now, I’m almost positive he brought both the knife and the rope with him. I found Gail’s knives in a rack in the kitchen, all arranged by size. There don’t seem to be any missing, and they’re all clean as a whistle.”
He looked back over his shoulder as he began climbing the stairs. “Of course, the guy could’ve used one of them and washed up afterward, but I didn’t see any evidence of that. As for the rope, there’s none in the house that matches what he used. Joe, did Gail have a sports knife or a pocket knife tucked away anywhere? Something he might have found easily and used?”
I thought about that for a moment. “She has a Swiss Army knife she carries in her purse, or on her belt when she goes camping. She didn’t say it was missing.”
“You might double-check, and ask her about the rope and the window lock, too, just to see if something comes to mind. Maybe some
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