chair, 'is a wildcat.'
'I'm not well versed in ballistics, so you'll have to explain it to me.'
'The term refers to a cartridge that isn't mass-produced. More specifically, a wildcat is a cartridge that has been modified in some way in order to optimize a certain performance characteristic such as efficiency or power.'
'So it's a home-made round?'
'That was my initial suspicion, but the components show no evidence of shoddy craftsmanship. In fact, it's quite the opposite.' Fletcher opened his toolbox and continued to speak as he collected his items and placed them on the table. 'While the slug contains a manufacturing stamp I don't recognize, given the superior craftsmanship I'm inclined to believe the round was created by someone who specializes in custom-made ammunition.'
'And the mass spectrometer will show you how the gunpowder was modified.'
Fletcher nodded. 'My hope is that it will give us a unique chemical fingerprint, which will allow us to trace the owner - once we've identified the manufacturer.'
Hands covered in latex and the empty cartridge pinched between his fingers, Fletcher rubbed a cotton swab along the inner brass wall to collect the gunpowder residue. Karim came around the table to watch, then, thinking better of it, lit a fresh cigarette, entered the living room and began to pace across the oriental carpet. Sometimes he paused to examine a painting or charcoal drawing, standing in such a way as to keep Fletcher's progress within his line of vision. Then he resumed his pacing.
Twenty minutes and two cigarettes later, Karim noticed that Fletcher was leaning back in his chair.
'What is it?'
Fletcher didn't answer. He propped an elbow on the table's corner, resting his chin on a thumb as he rubbed his index finger across his bottom lip, staring at the computer screen.
Karim marched back into the dining room and, standing behind Fletcher, bent forward to read the results.
The mass spectrometry software had failed to identify the sample.
'I was told these portable units have a limited library,' Karim said. 'I'll have this sample tested in New York. My forensics people are at my lab right now. The massspectrometer we have there is hooked up to a software library that can identify every -'
'That won't be necessary.'
'You know what this is?'
Fletcher nodded.
'Human ash,' he said.
14
A cool silence enveloped the dining room.
Karim broke it a moment later. 'Someone's cremated remains were packed inside that ammo cartridge.' He spoke slowly, as if having trouble finding the correct words. 'That's what you're telling me.'
Fletcher nodded, his gaze fixed on the computer screen. He didn't doubt his findings. Mixed in with the gunshot's chemical components, its primer residues and organic compounds, were the unmistakable chemical signatures of human ash - phosphate, sodium, calcium, chloride, sulphate, silica, potassium and magnesium.
He read them off one by one for Karim's benefit. Karim, however, still seemed unconvinced.
'The concentration levels of each leave no room for debate,' Fletcher said. 'Minute quantities of beryllium and mercury are also present, as well as -'
'I believe you.' Karim drew heavily on his cigarette. 'Could our lady shooter have loaded the ashes herself?'
'If she had the proper tools and the proper knowledge, yes.'
'I can tell by your tone you don't think she did.'
'You have to know exactly what you're doing or you'll risk a misfire. Why risk it when you can hire a company to do it for you?'
'There's a company that performs this ... service?'
'I know of only one. It caters to hunting enthusiasts.'
'You mean gun nuts,' Karim said. 'Is this legal?'
'Perfectly legal.'
'Let me guess: this company is based in the South.'
'Alabama, I believe.'
'Of course,' Karim added in a sour tone. While he had a permit to carry a gun, he rarely did. He detested firearms, believed their availability and the ease with which they could be obtained in the United States - through
'I'm not well versed in ballistics, so you'll have to explain it to me.'
'The term refers to a cartridge that isn't mass-produced. More specifically, a wildcat is a cartridge that has been modified in some way in order to optimize a certain performance characteristic such as efficiency or power.'
'So it's a home-made round?'
'That was my initial suspicion, but the components show no evidence of shoddy craftsmanship. In fact, it's quite the opposite.' Fletcher opened his toolbox and continued to speak as he collected his items and placed them on the table. 'While the slug contains a manufacturing stamp I don't recognize, given the superior craftsmanship I'm inclined to believe the round was created by someone who specializes in custom-made ammunition.'
'And the mass spectrometer will show you how the gunpowder was modified.'
Fletcher nodded. 'My hope is that it will give us a unique chemical fingerprint, which will allow us to trace the owner - once we've identified the manufacturer.'
Hands covered in latex and the empty cartridge pinched between his fingers, Fletcher rubbed a cotton swab along the inner brass wall to collect the gunpowder residue. Karim came around the table to watch, then, thinking better of it, lit a fresh cigarette, entered the living room and began to pace across the oriental carpet. Sometimes he paused to examine a painting or charcoal drawing, standing in such a way as to keep Fletcher's progress within his line of vision. Then he resumed his pacing.
Twenty minutes and two cigarettes later, Karim noticed that Fletcher was leaning back in his chair.
'What is it?'
Fletcher didn't answer. He propped an elbow on the table's corner, resting his chin on a thumb as he rubbed his index finger across his bottom lip, staring at the computer screen.
Karim marched back into the dining room and, standing behind Fletcher, bent forward to read the results.
The mass spectrometry software had failed to identify the sample.
'I was told these portable units have a limited library,' Karim said. 'I'll have this sample tested in New York. My forensics people are at my lab right now. The massspectrometer we have there is hooked up to a software library that can identify every -'
'That won't be necessary.'
'You know what this is?'
Fletcher nodded.
'Human ash,' he said.
14
A cool silence enveloped the dining room.
Karim broke it a moment later. 'Someone's cremated remains were packed inside that ammo cartridge.' He spoke slowly, as if having trouble finding the correct words. 'That's what you're telling me.'
Fletcher nodded, his gaze fixed on the computer screen. He didn't doubt his findings. Mixed in with the gunshot's chemical components, its primer residues and organic compounds, were the unmistakable chemical signatures of human ash - phosphate, sodium, calcium, chloride, sulphate, silica, potassium and magnesium.
He read them off one by one for Karim's benefit. Karim, however, still seemed unconvinced.
'The concentration levels of each leave no room for debate,' Fletcher said. 'Minute quantities of beryllium and mercury are also present, as well as -'
'I believe you.' Karim drew heavily on his cigarette. 'Could our lady shooter have loaded the ashes herself?'
'If she had the proper tools and the proper knowledge, yes.'
'I can tell by your tone you don't think she did.'
'You have to know exactly what you're doing or you'll risk a misfire. Why risk it when you can hire a company to do it for you?'
'There's a company that performs this ... service?'
'I know of only one. It caters to hunting enthusiasts.'
'You mean gun nuts,' Karim said. 'Is this legal?'
'Perfectly legal.'
'Let me guess: this company is based in the South.'
'Alabama, I believe.'
'Of course,' Karim added in a sour tone. While he had a permit to carry a gun, he rarely did. He detested firearms, believed their availability and the ease with which they could be obtained in the United States - through
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