knuckles on the glass window and Scott Black walked over to let him in.
“I was just about to call you.”
Jonah nodded at the nickel-plated pistol in his hand. “Nice piece.”
“A little flashy for me. Belongs to a gangbanger out of Houston.”
“You get those numbers yet?”
“Made some headway on that Remington. Come take a look.”
Scott led him to a long counter where the rifle was sitting atop a piece of butcher paper. The barrel looked wet.
“Is that oil?” Jonah asked.
“I’m using the magnaflux method. You know it?”
“No.”
“Basically, the idea is that when a gun is pressure-stamped with a serial number, the metal is indented with the number, but the material underneath the number also undergoes a change. So, you can file off the numbers, but it’s still possible to restore them.” Scott pointed to the very faint numbers on the left side of the barrel. “In this case, I applied a magnetic force to the gun, then sprayed it with an oil that has iron particles suspended in it. The particles collect in the places where the metal is disordered, which reveals the number. We got a pretty good read here. Our guy’s running the number through some databases right now.”
“What about the handgun?”
“That’s a little trickier.” Scott leaned against the counter. “The first method didn’t work. Looks like your shooter, or someone, really got after those serial numbers. Most people just file until the numbers aren’t visible, but in this case, someone shaved off a lot of metal.”
“Think it’s a hot gun?”
“Could be. I can probably still get the numbers for you, but I’m going to have to move to a method that’s what we call ‘destructive.’ Chemical etching. You guys done collecting prints and taking pictures of it?”
“We have what we need,” Jonah said.
“Then I recommend this procedure, but I’m going to need official approval.”
“You got it.”
Making this ID was top priority, and Jonah wasauthorized to do damn near anything to get the shooter’s name. He signed off on the test and headed upstairs to see Mia.
As the Delphi Center’s crown jewel, the DNA section occupied a lofty place on the building’s top floor. The glass corridor leading to Mia’s office offered sweeping views of the Texas Hill Country. It was a nice place to work. Beat the hell out of Jonah’s cubicle. Still, he would never trade places with a lab rat, even a crime-fighting one. He got way too much satisfaction from slapping on the cuffs.
Mia stepped out of her office and spotted him. “Oh, hey.” She smiled. “I heard you guys were here.”
She was in her typical lab coat, which Jonah was pretty sure she wore to balance out her ponytail and freckles. But even the coat and the official-looking clipboard in her hand didn’t make her look a day over thirty.
“Ric’s downstairs,” he told her.
“He just called.” She checked her watch. “I’d go down and say hi, but I’m late for a staff meeting. Walk with me?”
They retraced his steps toward the conference room near the elevator.
“If you talked to Ric, then you know a blood sample just came in that’s about to get bumped to the front of your line,” Jonah said.
“The university shooter.” Mia shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. I’m just sick that you guys were up there with him.” She gave Jonah a grim look. “Thank you for taking him out.”
“He took himself out.”
“Well, you helped. Anyway, I’m surprised his prints didn’t come back.”
“Could be this is his first rodeo.”
“I’ll get to the sample as soon as possible. But if he’s never been arrested, odds are slim we’ll get a hit with the Offender Index.”
“I was thinking he could be in the Forensic Index,” Jonah said. “Maybe we can link him to an old crime scene, then I’ll call up the detective somewhere and see if they’ve got a suspect list. If someone’s local or has a connection to the college, it could
“I was just about to call you.”
Jonah nodded at the nickel-plated pistol in his hand. “Nice piece.”
“A little flashy for me. Belongs to a gangbanger out of Houston.”
“You get those numbers yet?”
“Made some headway on that Remington. Come take a look.”
Scott led him to a long counter where the rifle was sitting atop a piece of butcher paper. The barrel looked wet.
“Is that oil?” Jonah asked.
“I’m using the magnaflux method. You know it?”
“No.”
“Basically, the idea is that when a gun is pressure-stamped with a serial number, the metal is indented with the number, but the material underneath the number also undergoes a change. So, you can file off the numbers, but it’s still possible to restore them.” Scott pointed to the very faint numbers on the left side of the barrel. “In this case, I applied a magnetic force to the gun, then sprayed it with an oil that has iron particles suspended in it. The particles collect in the places where the metal is disordered, which reveals the number. We got a pretty good read here. Our guy’s running the number through some databases right now.”
“What about the handgun?”
“That’s a little trickier.” Scott leaned against the counter. “The first method didn’t work. Looks like your shooter, or someone, really got after those serial numbers. Most people just file until the numbers aren’t visible, but in this case, someone shaved off a lot of metal.”
“Think it’s a hot gun?”
“Could be. I can probably still get the numbers for you, but I’m going to have to move to a method that’s what we call ‘destructive.’ Chemical etching. You guys done collecting prints and taking pictures of it?”
“We have what we need,” Jonah said.
“Then I recommend this procedure, but I’m going to need official approval.”
“You got it.”
Making this ID was top priority, and Jonah wasauthorized to do damn near anything to get the shooter’s name. He signed off on the test and headed upstairs to see Mia.
As the Delphi Center’s crown jewel, the DNA section occupied a lofty place on the building’s top floor. The glass corridor leading to Mia’s office offered sweeping views of the Texas Hill Country. It was a nice place to work. Beat the hell out of Jonah’s cubicle. Still, he would never trade places with a lab rat, even a crime-fighting one. He got way too much satisfaction from slapping on the cuffs.
Mia stepped out of her office and spotted him. “Oh, hey.” She smiled. “I heard you guys were here.”
She was in her typical lab coat, which Jonah was pretty sure she wore to balance out her ponytail and freckles. But even the coat and the official-looking clipboard in her hand didn’t make her look a day over thirty.
“Ric’s downstairs,” he told her.
“He just called.” She checked her watch. “I’d go down and say hi, but I’m late for a staff meeting. Walk with me?”
They retraced his steps toward the conference room near the elevator.
“If you talked to Ric, then you know a blood sample just came in that’s about to get bumped to the front of your line,” Jonah said.
“The university shooter.” Mia shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. I’m just sick that you guys were up there with him.” She gave Jonah a grim look. “Thank you for taking him out.”
“He took himself out.”
“Well, you helped. Anyway, I’m surprised his prints didn’t come back.”
“Could be this is his first rodeo.”
“I’ll get to the sample as soon as possible. But if he’s never been arrested, odds are slim we’ll get a hit with the Offender Index.”
“I was thinking he could be in the Forensic Index,” Jonah said. “Maybe we can link him to an old crime scene, then I’ll call up the detective somewhere and see if they’ve got a suspect list. If someone’s local or has a connection to the college, it could
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