shot.”
“Not to mention time-consuming and expensive. Unless...” Lucy thought about the short summary of the crime that she’d skimmed before leaving for the airport. “Did they check that all the blood at the scene came from the victims? This kind of explosive, frenzied attack—especially if drugs play a role—you’ll often see the perpetrator with cuts on the hand wielding the knife.”
TK straightened, her interest piqued. She pulled her laptop out and opened it on her tray. Lucy was glad it was only the two of them in this row. Hopefully no one else could see the gruesome images as TK flicked through them. “I thought only victims got defensive wounds on their hands?”
“These wouldn’t be defensive. They’re from slipping on the victims’ blood as the perpetrator grips the knife’s hilt. The force of the strike—”
“Slices into his palm. Probably near the base of the thumb, right?” TK asked, twisting her own hand as if she held a knife. “No reports of blood, not from the victims, but look at the scene. No way in hell could they have tested every blood spatter—”
Lucy gave the photos only a glance—she wanted time to study them in depth and would prefer to do it alone. A scene like that, she knew she’d need a moment to shed her emotions before immersing herself in it and she didn’t need TK seeing that—or reporting back to Valencia. Who was Valencia testing with this case? The justice system? Or Lucy and her potential future team?
“What about the brothers? Any injuries should have been recorded when they were arrested. Hopefully photographed as well.”
“Nothing on the younger one, Michael Manning.” TK clicked a few more keys. “Hmm...His brother’s initial booking photos are missing. Only one we have is dated two days after when he was officially charged, so three days after the crime. Guy looks in pretty bad shape.” She swung the computer so Lucy could see.
Understatement. Richard Manning appeared barely able to stand and had obviously taken a severe beating.
“He did resist arrest,” TK said, playing devil’s advocate. Lucy got the idea it was a role the young woman relished, even if it meant arguing against herself. “Sent two deputies to the hospital when they picked him up.”
“They must have gotten some kind of medical clearance, even if only to cover their ass. Any mention of cuts on his hands in that?”
“Let’s see...Here’s a doctor’s note. Also dated two days later. Mention of a mild concussion, cracked and bruised ribs, no evidence that prisoner requires further medical treatment. Doesn’t say anything about any cuts. But also doesn’t say he doesn’t have them.”
“We’ll need the complete medical record.”
TK nodded, made a note. “What else?”
“Full transcripts of the interviews that led to the confessions. Have you seen the actual confessions submitted to the court? Less than three pages long between both brothers. And that’s longhand, not even typed.”
“You’re buying into this whole coerced confession thing?” TK sounded doubtful. “I just can’t see anyone sane confessing to such a heinous crime if they’re innocent.”
“You should have that discussion with my husband some time. Turns out there are all sorts of psychological manipulations that can convince someone they did or saw something they didn’t—it’s a fascinating area of study. If you’re not a law enforcement officer depending on accurate statements, of course.”
“So even if they confessed, we can’t rely on those statements?”
“Who knows what went on in the two days between their arrest and their confessions? The police did things differently back in eighty-seven, might have used coercive techniques without even realizing what they were doing. I’d feel a lot more comfortable if I could read the full transcripts or better yet, get actual video or audio tapes of the interviews.”
TK used the plane’s Wi-Fi to email Wash and Tommy
“Not to mention time-consuming and expensive. Unless...” Lucy thought about the short summary of the crime that she’d skimmed before leaving for the airport. “Did they check that all the blood at the scene came from the victims? This kind of explosive, frenzied attack—especially if drugs play a role—you’ll often see the perpetrator with cuts on the hand wielding the knife.”
TK straightened, her interest piqued. She pulled her laptop out and opened it on her tray. Lucy was glad it was only the two of them in this row. Hopefully no one else could see the gruesome images as TK flicked through them. “I thought only victims got defensive wounds on their hands?”
“These wouldn’t be defensive. They’re from slipping on the victims’ blood as the perpetrator grips the knife’s hilt. The force of the strike—”
“Slices into his palm. Probably near the base of the thumb, right?” TK asked, twisting her own hand as if she held a knife. “No reports of blood, not from the victims, but look at the scene. No way in hell could they have tested every blood spatter—”
Lucy gave the photos only a glance—she wanted time to study them in depth and would prefer to do it alone. A scene like that, she knew she’d need a moment to shed her emotions before immersing herself in it and she didn’t need TK seeing that—or reporting back to Valencia. Who was Valencia testing with this case? The justice system? Or Lucy and her potential future team?
“What about the brothers? Any injuries should have been recorded when they were arrested. Hopefully photographed as well.”
“Nothing on the younger one, Michael Manning.” TK clicked a few more keys. “Hmm...His brother’s initial booking photos are missing. Only one we have is dated two days after when he was officially charged, so three days after the crime. Guy looks in pretty bad shape.” She swung the computer so Lucy could see.
Understatement. Richard Manning appeared barely able to stand and had obviously taken a severe beating.
“He did resist arrest,” TK said, playing devil’s advocate. Lucy got the idea it was a role the young woman relished, even if it meant arguing against herself. “Sent two deputies to the hospital when they picked him up.”
“They must have gotten some kind of medical clearance, even if only to cover their ass. Any mention of cuts on his hands in that?”
“Let’s see...Here’s a doctor’s note. Also dated two days later. Mention of a mild concussion, cracked and bruised ribs, no evidence that prisoner requires further medical treatment. Doesn’t say anything about any cuts. But also doesn’t say he doesn’t have them.”
“We’ll need the complete medical record.”
TK nodded, made a note. “What else?”
“Full transcripts of the interviews that led to the confessions. Have you seen the actual confessions submitted to the court? Less than three pages long between both brothers. And that’s longhand, not even typed.”
“You’re buying into this whole coerced confession thing?” TK sounded doubtful. “I just can’t see anyone sane confessing to such a heinous crime if they’re innocent.”
“You should have that discussion with my husband some time. Turns out there are all sorts of psychological manipulations that can convince someone they did or saw something they didn’t—it’s a fascinating area of study. If you’re not a law enforcement officer depending on accurate statements, of course.”
“So even if they confessed, we can’t rely on those statements?”
“Who knows what went on in the two days between their arrest and their confessions? The police did things differently back in eighty-seven, might have used coercive techniques without even realizing what they were doing. I’d feel a lot more comfortable if I could read the full transcripts or better yet, get actual video or audio tapes of the interviews.”
TK used the plane’s Wi-Fi to email Wash and Tommy
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