‘‘You got it,’’ said David. ‘‘The newspapers reported that the stolen items were recovered in several in stances. Good stories. Jefferies wanted to make sure the voters knew they did the right thing by electing him. But why weren’t the perps arrested?’’
‘‘You have more?’’ asked Frank. ‘‘This investigation you’ve embarked upon—is that why you resigned?’’
‘‘Yes. I didn’t tell Neva about my suspicions. I wanted to collect more data and I didn’t want to in volve anyone else, just in case it turned out I was completely bonkers after all. That’s why I didn’t say anything to you,’’ he said to Diane.
‘‘What else do you have?’’ Frank asked.
‘‘This next stuff is what I find really disturbing,’’ he said, pulling some photographs from his file.
Diane saw photographs of fingerprints, of crime scenes, trace evidence, more notes. David had been busy.
‘‘Bryce should have just fired me,’’ said David. ‘‘I don’t know why the stupid son of a bitch thought restricting me to the lab would keep all his dirty little secrets hidden from me. The lab is where most of the work is done.’’
David picked up a photograph of several finger prints. ‘‘These are from the investigation of the mur der of Judge Karen McNevin. Bryce worked this scene. Rikki hadn’t been hired then. He brought all the evidence back for me to process. The first thing I noticed on the lifting tape—besides the fingerprints— was a lot of trace.’’
He pulled out another photograph taken through a microscope. It showed small particles with a cubic crystal habit. Diane recognized sodium chloride. There were other particles she didn’t recognize.
‘‘Salt,’’ said Diane.
‘‘This salt was on all the trace lifts—some on the fingerprint lifts, and in fact, on all the trace from the crime scene,’’ said David.
He picked up another photograph. This one showed a close-up of some trace fibers supposedly lifted from the crime scene. There was something else stuck to the cellophane, some kind of red-brown flakes. Diane didn’t recognize them.
‘‘The flakes are peanut skins; the other tan particles are pieces of peanuts,’’ said David. ‘‘They are also pervasive in the trace from the judge’s crime scene, including the dog hair that was lifted from her body. It was consistent with the accused’s dog. Bryce lifted the hair with the fingerprint tape, and it has the salt and peanut parts all over it.’’
David stopped and looked up from the pictures. ‘‘Let me tell you something about the murder,’’ he said.
He took out the crime scene photographs and laid them on the table. Frank’s coffee table was now cov ered in photographic evidence.
‘‘Judge McNevin was shot at home,’’ said David. ‘‘It was on a Saturday. Saturdays her husband took their two kids to a movie, or someplace equally entertain ing. Saturday was Karen’s day to stay home and catch up on her law journals. People who knew her knew she would be alone in the house on a Saturday after noon. Her husband said she liked to soak in the tub while she read. She had a tub tray she used to keep her journals on and a glass of wine. She’d gotten out of the tub, put on a robe, and was in the bedroom when she was confronted by her killer and strangled to death.’’
Diane and Frank listened as David spoke, not inter rupting. Diane wasn’t sure where this was going, but she was developing a hard knot in the pit of her stom ach. Frank’s living room was lit only by task lighting, and in the growing darkness the recesses were fading into shadows. Diane got up abruptly and turned on the overhead chandelier, and suddenly everything in the room was made visible again.
‘‘I’m sorry,’’ she said, looking at Frank and David staring at her. ‘‘I just needed light.’’
David hadn’t taken a drink of his coffee for a while, and it was probably growing cold. One reason he said he liked putting chocolate in it was that it tasted better when it got cold. Diane thought she should warm it for him. But then she wondered if she was just trying to delay hearing what he had to say, delay the dreaded thing to come, whatever it was. She mentally shook herself.
‘‘Go on,’’ she said.
David pulled out the autopsy photos.
‘‘Where did you get the autopsy photographs?’’ asked Diane. ‘‘I had to camp out in Shane’s lab practi cally to get him to give me anything.’’
‘‘I hacked into his computer,’’ said David.
Diane and Frank both raised their eyebrows.
David raised his palms and shrugged. ‘‘What do you do when it’s the people in authority you suspect of being criminals? I collected most of this stuff before I resigned, so technically I was authorized to see it.’’
‘‘Go on,’’ said Frank. From the deep crease in his forehead and the frown on his face, Diane could see he was worried too. She wasn’t sure whether he was concerned about David or about what David was saying.
‘‘Lloyd Bryce worked the crime scene. He wouldn’t allow either me or Neva to come with him. Got rather sharp about it, as I recall. He came back with the evidence for me to process. I found all this trace.
‘‘Now, I happened to know Judge Karen McNevin and her husband. They were friends. Karen was deathly allergic to peanuts. She had a very fast reaction when she came in contact with them and always carried an EpiPen. She couldn’t even touch them. At parties she stood far away from anyplace where there were mixed nuts. She wouldn’t have any in her home.
‘‘On the other hand,’’ continued David, ‘‘Evan Don ovan, the man accused of strangling her to death, is an avid peanut eater. I spoke with his friends. He even does that thing where he puts them in his Coke. His house is littered with salted peanut parts. I know, be cause I broke in and looked. The trace evidence came from his house and not the crime scene.’’
David sat back and waited.
