Iris Johansen 1998 - The Face of Deception
Eve Duncan circle - book 1
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My deepest and warmest thanks to N. Eileen Bar-row, Research Associate and Forensic Sculptor with the FACES Laboratory at Louisiana State University. Her generosity with her time, help, and guidance was invaluable in writing this book. Also a very sincere thank-you to Mark Sto-lorow, Director of Operations of Cellmark Diag-nostics Inc., for his patience and kindness in helping me with the technical aspects of DNA profiling and the intricacies of chemiluminescence.
Prologue
DIAGNOSTIC CLASSIFICATION FACILITY
JACKSON, GEORGIA
JANUARY 27
11:55 p.m.
It was going to happen.
Oh, God, don't let it happen.
Lost. She'll be lost.
They'll all be lost.
Come away, Eve. You don't want to be here. It was Joe Quinn standing beside her. His square, boyish face was pale and drawn beneath the shadow of the black umbrella he was holding. There's nothing you can do. He's had two stays of execution already. The governor's not going to do it again. There was too much public outcry the last time.
He's got to do it. Her heart was pounding so hard, it hurt her. But then, at that moment every-thing in the world was hurting her. I want to talk to the warden.
Quinn shook his head. He won't see you.
He saw me before. He called the governor. Ive got to see him. He understood about
Let me take you to your car. Its freezing out here and youre getting soaked.
She shook her head, her gaze fixed desperately on the prison gate. You talk to him. Youre with the FBI. Maybe hell listen to you.
Its too late, Eve. He tried to draw her under his umbrella but she stepped away from him. Jesus, you shouldnt have come.
You came. She gestured to the horde of news-paper and media people gathered at the gate. They came. Who has a better right to be here than me? Sobs were choking her. I have to stop it. I have to make them see that they cant
You crazy bitch.
She was jerked around and found herself facing a man in his early forties. His features were twisted with pain, and tears were running down his cheeks. It took a minute for her to recognize him. Bill Verner. His son was one of the lost ones.
Stay out of it. Verners hands dug into her shoulders. He shook her. Let them kill him. Youve already caused us too much grief and now youre trying to get him off again. Damn you, let them burn the son of a bitch.
I cant do Cant you see? Theyre lost. I have to
You stay out of it, or so help me God Ill make you sorry that you
Leave her alone. Quinn stepped forward and knocked Verners hands away from Eve. Dont you see shes hurting more than you are?
The hell she is. He killed my boy. I wont let her try to get him off again.
Do you think I dont want him to die? she said fiercely. Hes a monster. I want to kill him myself, but I cant let him There was no time for this argument, she thought frantically. There was no time for anything. It must be almost midnight.
They were going to kill him.
And Bonnie would be lost forever.
She whirled away from Verner and ran toward the gate.
Eve!
She pounded on the gate with clenched fists. Let me in! Youve got to let me in. Please dont do this.
Flashbulbs.
The prison guards were coming toward her.
Quinn was trying to pull her away from the gate.
The gate was opening.
Maybe there was a chance.
God, please let there be a chance.
The warden was coming out.
Stop it, she screamed. Youve got to stop
Go home, Ms. Duncan. Its over. He walked past her toward the TV cameras.
Over. It couldnt be over.
The warden was looking soberly into the cameras and his words were brief and to the point. There was no stay of execution. Ralph Andrew Fraser was executed four minutes ago and pronounced dead at 12: A.M.
No.
The scream was full of agony and desolation, as broken and forsaken as the wail of a lost child.
Eve didnt realize the scream came from her.
Quinn caught her as her knees buckled and she slumped forward in a dead faint.
ONE
ATLANTA, GEORGIA
JUNE
EIGHT YEARS LATER
'You look like hell. Its nearly midnight. Dont you ever sleep?
Eve glanced up from the computer to see Joe Quinn leaning against the doorjamb across the room. Sure I do. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. One late night does not a workaholic make. Or something like that. I just had to check those mea-surements before
I know. I know. Joe came into the studio lab and dropped down in the chair beside the desk. Diane said you blew her off for lunch today.
She nodded guiltily. It was the third time that month she had canceled out on Joes wife. I explained that the Chicago P.D. needed the result. Bobby Starness parents were waiting.
Was it a match?
Close enough. I knew it was almost a certainty before I started the superimposition. There were a few teeth missing from the skull, but the dental check was very close.
Then why were you brought in?
His parents didnt want to believe it. I was their last hope.
Bummer.
Yes, but I know about hope. And when they see the way Bobbys features fit the skull, theyll know its over. Theyll accept the fact that their child is dead and it may bring closure. She glanced at the image on her computer screen. Chicago P.D. had given her a skull and a picture of seven-year-old Bobby. Working with visual equipment and her computer, she had su-perimposed Bobbys face on the skull. As she had said, the match was very close. Bobby had looked so alive and sweet in the picture it was enough to break your heart.
They were all heartbreakers, she thought wearily. Are you on your way home?
Yep.
And just dropped by to yell at me?
I feel its one of my primary duties in life.
Liar. Her gaze was on the black leather case in his hands. Is that for me?
We found a skeleton in the woods in North Gwinnett. The rain unearthed it. The animals got at it, so theres not much left, but the skull is intact. He snapped open the case. Its a little girl, Eve.
He always told her right away if it was a girl. She supposed he thought he was shielding her.
She carefully took the skull and studied it. Its not a little girl. Shes a preteen, maybe eleven or twelve. She indicated a lacy crack on the upper jaw. Shes been exposed to the cold of at least one winter. She gently touched the broad nasal cavity. And she was probably black.
That will help. He grimaced. But not much. Youll have to sculpt her. We dont have any idea who she is. No pictures for superimposition. Do you know how many girls run away from home in this town? If she was a slum kid, she might not have even been re-ported missing. The parents are usually more con-cerned with getting their crack than keeping track of their He shook his head. Sorry. I forgot. Open mouth, insert foot.
A habit with you, Joe.
Only around you. I tend to lower my guard.
Should I be honored? Her brow knit with con-centration as she studied the skull. You know Mom hasnt been on crack for years. And there are a lot of things Im ashamed of in my life, but growing up in the slums isnt one of them. I might not have sur-vived if I hadnt had it tough.
Youd have survived.
She wasnt so sure. She had been too close to going under to take either sanity or survival for granted. Want a cup of coffee? We slum kids make great java.
He flinched. Ouch. I said I was sorry.
She smiled. Just thought Id take a jab or two. You deserve it for generalizing. Coffee?
No, I have to get home to Diane. He stood up. Theres no hurry with this one if shes been buried that long. Like I said, we dont even know who were looking for.
I wont hurry. Ill work on her at night.
Yeah, you have so much time. He looked at the pile of textbooks on the table. Your mom said you were studying physical
