'Now, Dr. Grissom,' Maher said, 'and Sara-you two remember about where the footprints were, correct?'
'Well,' Sara said, pointing, 'the victim ran a fairly straight line. So…from the body down the hill.'
Grissom said, 'The other four sets-the two up and the two back-were scattered sort of on either side of the victim's.'
Maher nodded, breath pluming. 'We're going to have to work these from the outside in. Where would you say the tracks were the furthest out?'
Pointing to a tree slightly downhill from their position, perhaps ten feet to their left, Grissom said, 'Just this side of that tree.'
'All right.' Maher turned toward the old boy at the toboggan. 'How you doing there, Mr. Cormier?'
'Comin' along!'
Maher turned back to the Vegas CSIs and said, 'Okay, for a few minutes I'll be doing all the work…but it won't be long and there'll be plenty for everybody, eh?'
They nodded.
'For now, Sara, you better start finding a way to warm your camera.'
'It's digital.'
'Yes, and you won't want the lens fogged, and the batteries don't like the cold, either.'
'How about inside my coat, Gordy?'
'That may be a little too warm, but it's better than any idea I've got.'
Sara went back to the sled, carefully unpacked her camera and slipped half-out of the coat-God, it was bitter!-and withdrew an arm from one sleeve, slung the strap over her shoulder and put the camera against her side. Then she tugged the coat back on and zipped up. Maher's concern wasn't misplaced-the camera already felt cold, even though it had made the journey up here in its leather case. She hugged it close and hoped it would warm up quickly.
Grissom followed Maher as the constable circled down to the point the CSI had indicated, and they stood just on the wrong side of the tree from where the footprints had been before being buried under all that snow.
'This is the tree?'
'Yes,' Grissom said, pointing toward the area on the other side. 'The prints were right over there.'
With a Cheshire cat grin, Maher asked, 'Do you get a kick out of experiments?'
Grissom said simply, 'Yes,' which was the understatement of the new century.
'This isn't exactly an experiment, Doctor, but I think you're going to like it.'
Before very long, Maher fired up the leaf blower, yanking the cord, and aimed it at the new-fallen snow. Wet though it was, the white powder still flew in every direction as the leaf blower eased over it. Despite the use of forced air, the Canadian worked carefully.
Moving down to join them, careful to take the same path they had taken, Sara and Cormier came down to watch the show. The camera felt warm against her now and Sara decided to snap off a couple of preliminary shots, getting photos of Maher at work. She looked over at Grissom, who studied Maher in rapt fascination and even admiration.
Quiet and still, Grissom seemed mesmerized as the leaf blower cleared layer after layer. Within a few minutes Maher shut down the leaf blower and signaled them to join him. He had blown open a circle about fifteen by fifteen inches and-in the bottom, dug into the five inches of snow already packed there when they'd arrived yesterday-Sara saw a pristine boot impression.
She turned to Grissom. 'No way.'
Shaking his head, Grissom said, 'I just saw him do it.'
They had a little sunshine now, but Maher's smile was brighter. 'Medium-velocity snow dispersal device. Pretty cool, eh?'
'Pretty cool, indeed,' Grissom said. 'I trust the term is designed to sound impressive in court?'
'That, and 'leaf blower' just has no charm.'
Looking like an overgrown demented kid in that stocking cap, eyes gleaming, Grissom asked, 'May I?'
'Sure,' Maher said. 'You saw how I did it-just be careful and don't hit the area too directly.'
'I'm all over it.'
'Just be all over it-carefully.' The Canadian refired the leaf blower and handed the business end to Grissom. 'Take her for a spin.'
Grissom moved just under a yard downhill and a little to the left. The impression Maher had unearthed-or more accurately, unsnowed-was of a right footprint. That meant the next one should be a left, which was the reason for Grissom moving just a few inches off line.
While Grissom worked with the blower, Sara put a ruled scale next to the footprint and snapped a couple of photos.
'Wait,' Maher said. 'You need the scale, you're exactly right…but for it to be accurate in a photo, it should be at the same depth as the impression.' He dug out beneath the scale and set it down. Sara took two more photos, then slipped the camera back inside her coat to keep it warmed up.
'You'll see the difference once you get those up on a computer screen,' Maher continued. 'Use your tripod too-that and some oblique lighting should raise the detail.'
'Thanks. I will.'
Maher moved to where Grissom was blowing away more snow. With a small amount of guidance from the Canadian, Grissom eventually uncovered another footprint.
'Got a left foot,' Grissom said, his smile almost feral.
'You comfortable doing this?' Maher asked.
'I'm always at my most comfortable,' Grissom said, 'at a crime scene.'
Maher said, 'All right, then-you keep moving. Do one more set from this row, then try to find the other three and we'll do two molds each from each row.'
'Sounds good.'
'And while you're doing that, Sara's going to take more pictures, while I'm melting the sulfur.'
Grissom just nodded and went back to work.
'Sulfur?' Sara asked.
'Never made sulfur casts?' Maher asked her, as he led her back up the hill.
'Can't say I have.'
'Just dental stone, huh?'
'That's what works best in our climate.'
Opening one of his cases on the toboggan, Maher withdrew a Sterno burner and handed it to Sara.
'Take this,' he said, then pulled out a small saucepan and handed it to her. 'And this.'
Finally, he brought out a yellow block slightly smaller than a brick and a cooling rack with extended legs.
'Come on, Sara,' Maher said, 'and I'll show you how this alchemy works.'
Clearing a spot in the snow, he lit the Sterno burner and-while it got going-he dumped the yellow brick into the saucepan. As Sara watched, Maher put the saucepan on top of the cooling rack he'd opened up and set over the flame.
'Okay, Sara-this is going to start stinking to high heaven before long, so why don't you set your tripod up, and take your pictures, before I pour the sulfur in. We're only going to have a small window before our sulfur smells real ugly.'
'Anything you say, Merlin,' she said, and grabbed her tripod off the toboggan.
'And while you're there,' Maher said, half-turning, 'could you bring me that can of gray primer?'
She looked in the nearest bag and found the paint. 'Got it.'
As she set up the tripod, so that the camera would be directly over the footprint, Maher shook the paint, then sprayed a light layer of primer over the print.
Alarmed, Sara said, 'Hey-you're disturbing evidence!'
He shook his head. 'I'm enhancing the visibility. And besides, you already have pictures of it, au naturel.'
Grissom turned off the leaf blower and, watching where he was going, walked over to them.
'Look what the Mountie did,' she said, pointing at the print.
