“Right,” Jack said as Kelly sat down, “talk us through the forensics next, if you would, Tim. George, feel free to join in.”
Tim Barton had sat down to watch the CCTV, but now he stood up again. “I’ve got Sam Calvin’s crime scene report here. It won’t come as a surprise to any of you to hear that the killer didn’t leave us any fingerprints, shoeprints or DNA at the scene. That would have made our lives far too easy. We didn’t recover any foreign trace fibres from her clothing either.” He allowed himself an ironic smile. “And, as you all know, the DNA hit we got from the flesh beneath her nails turned out to be a red herring.”
Tim picked up a document with the FSS logo on and started flicking through it. “Blood pattern analysis is interesting. The experts have given us their interpretation of her final moments based on the shape, pattern, and radius of her blood fall. Due to the high arterial spatter pattern they found, they reckon that our man slit her throat from behind, while she was still standing up and had blood pressure, and stood back as she thrashed around like a fish out of water. The blood pattern peaks and dips in line with the heartbeat and spirals down dramatically as she collapses to the floor. They think she was bound when the cut was inflicted, which would account for her severely restricted range of movement.” Barton grimaced as he imagined the killer standing back, just out of range of the blood spray, watching dispassionately as she bled to death. “The autopsy supports our theory that her arms were tied behind her,” he added.
“Handcuffed, you mean,” George Copeland corrected.
“Yes, that’s right. Thank you, George,” Barton said, flicking through his papers to find the pathologist’s report. “George, you were at the SPM. It’s probably best if you talk us through that.”
“Two different types of knife were used,” Copeland said, quoting from memory, “one being a twelve or thirteen-inch serrated hunting knife, which was rammed up her muff – we worked out the blade length from the extent of the damage inflicted. The throat was cut from behind, right to left, indicating that the killer is left-handed. The pathologist reckons the abdominal cuts were surgical in nature, and a scalpel was probably used. Parts of her intestines are missing – they were never recovered at the scene. The obvious conclusion, as distasteful as it is, is that chummy removed them and took them with him.”
“Perhaps the sick fucker is a cannibal,” Charlie White suggested. Why else would anyone take human flesh with them after a kill?
“That’s an astute observation, Charlie. We’ll come back to that point a little later,” Tyler said, not wanting to be pulled off topic or jump ahead of the script. “Any sign of infectious disease or STDs?” he asked.
Tim shook his head. “Nope, according to the pathologist’s report and the preliminary toxicology results, there were no signs of HIV, Hepatitis, or any historical or current Sexually Transmitted Disease.”
“Can you confirm there was no trace of recent sex?” Jack asked.
“I can. Firstly, we know she was banged up in a south London nick for eighteen-hours over the weekend for kiting stolen checks. When she was released, she went straight home and called her pimp, who collected her and drove her to Quaker Street. Sandra Dawson confirms she didn’t go off with anyone before she disappeared. Secondly, there was definitely no seamen or traces of spermicide inside her.”
Traces of semen had been found in the vaginal wall of rape victims up to fourteen days after intercourse, despite the fact that the traumatised women had rinsed themselves raw. It could still be found in the mouth up to thirty-six hours after ejaculation, and no amount of teeth cleaning or gargling could completely obliterate it. A complete absence of any foreign DNA in a career prostitute like Tracey indicated that she practiced safe sex – unusual for a declining junkie. But there were still ways to get a perpetrator’s DNA off of a victim, even after protected sex.
“Was she combed, swabbed and taped?” Holland asked.
“She was,” George confirmed. “Tracey’s pubic hair was combed for foreign hair; there were none. Her skin, vagina, and anus were swabbed for alien DNA transmitted via the sweat of a client; nothing was found. As you know, we all constantly shed minuscule flakes of skin. She was tested for any microscopic deposits belonging to the killer, or anyone else. Guess what? Zilch. The pathologist is confident that something would have turned up if she had been out shagging before the killer struck. For it not to have done so, the bloke would have had to
