refolding of the paper. Some of the writing was obscured behind crusted spots of dried blood.
Using the light magnifier, she examined the sheet for several minutes.
'Take a look at this.' Darby stepped away from the counter to give Evan room.
'1 S R R 2R S,' he said. 'Does it match what Rachel Swanson wrote on her arm at the hospital?'
Darby had consulted her PDA, where she had transferred her notes. 'Here's what she wrote on her arm: '1 L S 2R L R 3R S 2R 3L.''
'Not only are they different, they're shorter.'
'What's the next line say?'
Evan read the combination of letters and numbers.
'They're different – and longer,' Darby said.
Evan moved the magnifier over the paper. There are dozens of different combinations here.'
Coop said, 'How could directions change?'
'I don't know,' Evan said. 'I was thinking it might possibly be a combination to, say, a locked door until I saw this line. It says '3: STAY AWAY.' Terry Mastrangelo's name is written beside it with a question mark. And there are several other names here Rachel crossed out.'
'She was keeping track of the names of the women kept with her all that time,' Darby said, more to herself. 'Any chance you have a Video Spectral Comparator in here?'
'The best I've got is the stereomicroscope.' Evan grabbed the piece of equipment, set it up on the table and backed away from the counter.
Darby slid onto the stool and carefully transferred the paper to the stereomicroscope. She started her examination at the top, left-hand corner of the paper. Most of the names were illegible. Several names had been crossed out.
'There's a space here that looks like it's been erased,' Darby said. 'We can toy around with oblique lighting sources to see if we can pick up any indented writing.'
'We're better off using infrared reflectography,' Coop said. 'It works well on revealing erased pencil marks and covered signatures. We can also use it on the areas that are crossed out.'
'I'm concerned about fingerprints.'
'The pencil won't wash away under any of the solvents we use. My first choice would be to try an electrostatic detection apparatus to see if we can pick up any indented writing. It won't damage the document or any potential fingerprints.'
'We might have a portable ESDA unit,' Evan said. 'I'll have to check the equipment list.'
'I have a name – Joanne Novack.' Darby spelled it as Coop wrote it down on the clipboard. 'Next is K-A… I can't read the rest. Last name is Bellona or Bellora, I'm not sure. Below it is Jane Gittle, maybe Gittles. There are additional letters but they're too faded.'
'Let me see what I can find out about these names.' Evan copied the names on a notepad and left the room.
Darby examined the rest of the document. Dozens and dozens of lines were written in Rachel Swanson's cryptic number and letter code.
Darby took extra pictures with the Polaroid for her own personal file while Coop set up the camera equipment for the close-up pictures. She stuffed the Polaroids in her back pocket and then jotted down the directions on a separate sheet of paper.
She tore the sheet off the pad. 'I'm going to give these directions to Evan.'
Stripped of her containment gear, Darby walked into the hallway. Evan wasn't in here. A laser printer was spitting out a sheet of paper. It was a picture of a woman with curly black hair and pale features – Joanne Novack, twenty-one, from Newport, Rhode Island. She was last seen leaving her shift at a local bar. She had been missing for almost three years.
Darby picked up the other two sheets.
Kate Bellora, nineteen, had the kind of sallow, haunted face Darby had often seen in battered women. Kate was a heroin addict and known prostitute. She was last seen working in the town she grew up in: New Bedford, Massachusetts. Nobody knew what had happened to her. She had been missing for almost one year.
The last picture held a photograph of a blue-eyed woman with feathered hair and freckles. Jane Gittlesen, twenty-two, from Ware, New Hampshire. Her abandoned car had been found on the side of a highway. Gittlesen had been missing for two years. She was married and had a two-year-old daughter.
Darby borrowed Coop's phone and dialed Banville's number. He didn't answer. She explained what she had found, along with the directions, and stepped outside to find Evan.
He was standing near the crime scene van, talking to the Boston Bomb Squad commander, Kyle Romano. Dawn was breaking, the sun visible through the trees. The cool air still smelled of smoke.
Evan took a phone call. Romano walked away. Darby caught up with him and asked him if she could use the crime scene vehicle. She could. By the time she reached Evan, he had hung up.
'Any good news?' Darby asked.
Evan shook his head. 'I need to head into Boston to take care of a few things.'
'Romano gave me clearance to use the crime scene vehicle,' Darby said. 'I'm going to head out to the woods and see what's out there.'
'I need you to stay here and work the evidence until the lab people arrive.'
'There's nothing left to do until the paper dries. Coop and I will head out. I told Banville to meet us there.'
Evan checked his watch. 'I'll go with you,' he said. 'I want to see what Traveler left for us.'
Chapter 53
Darby pulled off Route 22 and came to a stop in front of two trees. Between the trees was a dirt road. Someone could easily pull a car inside there and be hidden from the main road. She didn't spot any tire tracks on the ground.
'This looks like the place,' Darby said.
Evan nodded. He had been unusually quiet during the drive, communicating with nods and short answers.
Darby killed the engine. She felt a building, jittery panic as she hefted her kit out of the backseat. Evan grabbed the shovels.
'It's going to be slow walking back there,' Evan said. 'You want me to carry that?'
'Thanks, but I can manage.' Darby headed into the woods.
It was slow walking, steep and muddy from the rain. Twenty minutes later, the trail ended. In front of them now was an uneven terrain full of sloping ground packed with trees, rocks and downed tree limbs. They had to duck under tree branches as they walked.
Evan slung the shovels to his other shoulder. 'You're awfully quiet.'
'I could say the same about you. You've hardly said a word since we left.'
I've been thinking about Victor Grady.'
'What brought him to mind?'
'The map you found,' Evan said. 'Riggers said he saw a map of these woods when he was in Grady's house.'
'I don't remember reading anything about a map.'
'It was destroyed in the fire. Riggers didn't remember much from the map, but he said it was for these woods. The thinking was Grady might have used this area as a possible burial spot, so we searched the woods. We never found anything.'
'How much of the woods did you search?'
'About a quarter of it,' Evan said. 'I don't have to tell you how big these woods are. The Belham department ran out of money and the search was called off.'
'So Grady's victims are probably still buried out here.'
'I think so – at least that's what I believe deep in my gut. To find where they're buried, it would take a miracle.'
