himself.
Kate sat forward, hands on her knees. “So was she hit in the head with the gun at any stage? Could the killer have stunned her first?”
“I don’t think so. That bruise above the ear could have happened when she hit the ground. Without her arms out in front, she would have just toppled forward.”
Wheeler stood up and wiped the knees of his trousers. The phone on his desk rang and he moved to answer it.
Kate spun the chair around and straddled the seat, leaning her elbows on the backrest. “She was executed. No evidence of robbery or sexual interference. The briefcase was untouched as far as we know. This was a targeted killing.”
A minute later Wheeler came back, like a new puppy with a toy he’d retrieved.
“Just had a call from a neighbor. He left for a night shift around 9:45 P.M. and saw a man with a hat and coat on outside Ryder’s house. He f-f-forgot something so drove around the block. He s-s-saw the man a couple of houses down, looking like he was waiting. He did some shopping and met some friends for lunch before c-c-coming back home this morning, which is why he’s only just called.”
“Description?” Kate sat straight, ignoring Wheeler’s intermittent stutter. It was the worst they had heard it, probably a reflection of his stress levels.
“Average height, overweight, about a hundred and twenty kilos. Big b-belly was what he remembered most.”
Liz Gould entered the office and threw down a satchel.
“Doesn’t fit with any of the Harbourns or their known associates. Can you check out the neighbor’s movements last night? Make sure he really did go to work.”
“What about the description? It’s our first real lead.”
Kate rubbed her eyes. “Let’s put out a public appeal for this person of interest to come forward and assist us with our inquiries, the usual. The killer could have lived close. That might explain why no one else saw him or her.”
Anya hoped that all possibilities were being considered. Police tunnel vision limiting suspects could mean the chances of catching the killer diminished with each hour.
“What about a stalker? She had daily contact with dysfunctional and disturbed people.”
“Her and anyone who works with the public,” Liz added. “Try working with security company employees, they’re a breed all of their own.” She sat, pulled off her shoes and rubbed her feet.
“Find anything useful?” Kate wanted to know.
“Doesn’t look like a stalker. I just got back from viewing the court tapes. Ryder’s been in court the past couple of days and cameras didn’t catch anyone hanging around or following her. Same with the bank footage of the street near where she lives. When she appeared, no one was close or visible, let alone someone with a large belly.”
The detectives were all under pressure to make a quick arrest, pressure from politicians, the police commissioner and the Director of Public Prosecutions, not to mention the public and media.
Liz dug her fingers into the soles of her feet. “Unless ballistics turn up the gun and it’s got the killer’s name all over it, we’re pushing a waterfall uphill and all we’ve got is a toothpick.”
35
Anya phoned Martin who sounded relieved that she was all right and even appeared sympathetic about the situation. Whatever Hayden had told Martin was clearly reassuring. Ben was safe and happy. She checked her messages on Kate’s computer and downloaded the articles on genetic criminality. Maybe there was something in there that could help the police, or help in the Harbourn trial.
She had to do something or she would feel completely useless. This felt just like one of her times in casualty, when a car accident involved a drunk driver hitting a family with four young kids. Despite working on them all night, none of the family survived. The drunk driver walked away uninjured.
Doctors and nurses stayed in casualty for hours after their shifts had finished, not just to help with the backlog of patients. No one wanted to go home and deal with the emotional fallout of the deaths alone.
Zimmer wandered into Homicide. “Crime scene’s pretty clean. Our killer doesn’t want to be found.”
Anya thought that didn’t sound like the Harbourns. Getting caught didn’t seem to faze them, particularly if avoiding detection meant more work and less impulse. Maybe Noelene was the brains in the organization after all.
Kate rummaged through her desk for something, ignoring Zimmer.
“McNab is about to go over the casing and the bullet. Thought you’d want to be there.”
Kate found the item she had been searching for-a pack of Lifesaver lollies. “You need to ask?”
“Hey, I’m a gentleman.” Zimmer turned to Anya. “Why are you still around? Can’t bear to be away from us beautiful people?”
“Something like that.” Truth was, she was waiting for Kate to take her home to get some toiletries and clothes before staying at her place for protection. Knowing Kate, she wouldn’t leave until she’d run out of calls to make or leads to chase that day.
Kate headed straight for the stairwell. Anya and Zimmer followed.
As they entered the firearms lab, Zimmer chatted while Anya did her best to disguise how puffed she was.
“How are the drum lessons going?”
“They’re not. I’ve been away and now I’m just too busy.”
“Maybe I’ll just have to bring my sax over so we can play some time.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Hello? Gagging over here.”
Zimmer looked wounded. “I’m serious. I play in a jazz band. Anya knows that. We’ve been trying to get her to jam with us for ages.”
Anya grinned and nodded.
Kate ignored him.
The firearms expert, Nick McNab hung up the phone in his glass office and joined everyone in the lab. He pulled on a white coat and did up the only two buttons that met in the middle.
“Thanks for coming, I know what this case means to everyone here. Guess you’d like to see what we’ve got.”
They moved around a stereoscopic microscope connected to a television on a mobile stand.
“It’s easier if I show you.” Doctor McNab focused the microscope and showed a cartridge case. “This was found at the scene. The humble case is often overlooked in assisting with identification of a weapon. Most of the markings are found on the closed end, where the primer is located. A crater forms when the firing pin is struck by the hammer and forced into the primer.”
He moved an arrow and pointed to the base. “As you can see, this has a few distinct markings. The breech markings occur when the case is pushed back against the breech block by the burning gases. As we have here, in a semiautomatic, extractor markings and ejector markings are left on the rim. We can also look for markings left by the magazine lip on the side of the case.”
Anya watched the screen, unsure of exactly what marks she was seeing. “The eye of faith” was what her mother called it when a group of experts nodded about seeing something at the same time. Odds were, she wasn’t alone in not being able to understand what McNab described.
“Can you point out what exactly we’re looking at?”
Kate could always be trusted to get to the point quickly.
“Nick’s just saying there are a couple of different impressions made on the head of the case. The firing pin marks on impact, and through recoil when the base is forced back against the breech block. By the way, this is a rim fire.”
McNab looked up from the microscope. “That’s what I said, except for the rim fire bit at the end.”
Zimmer put his hands up, “Sorry, just making sure we’re all on the same page.”
