He grinned at her.
Diane laughed. “I don’t know where you’d find a sucker as big as me. I’ll see you in about thirty minutes. Enjoy your cake.”
Chapter 14
The crime lab, all shiny glass and chrome, was an agency of the City of Rosewood, which didn’t pay the museum any rent for the space. In exchange for housing the crime lab, the city forgave the museum all its city taxes-taxes they had raised in order to entice Diane into housing the lab. Despite the city’s less than scrupulous way of getting the space, Diane liked the idea of having the crime lab in the museum, and so did the museum board. Otherwise, she would have resisted Rosewood’s little blackmail scheme.
The city’s great deal was compounded for them when they discovered that if they dragged their feet on approving the funds for the purchase of new pieces of expensive forensic equipment requested for the crime lab, Diane would have the museum purchase the equipment and lease it back to the lab, thus avoiding the need for large cash outlays by the city. At least they thought it was a great deal until they realized Diane could indeed pull the plug on the arrangement, boot the lab out of the museum, and keep the sexiest and most expensive pieces of state-of-the-art equipment. It was a sometimes-uneasy alliance, but it worked, and Diane and the city had a great crime lab.
David was in deep conversation with Deven Jin when Diane entered the crime lab. Jin came to the Rosewood Crime Lab from New York where he was a criminalist. He had persuaded Diane to establish a DNA lab in the museum and she had put him in charge. Jin was the youngest member of Diane’s forensic team and the most energetic. He was half Asian, adventurous, and loved his job. It turned out that the DNA lab was one of the more lucrative departments in the museum.
“How are the investigations coming?” said Diane. She pulled out a chair at the round debriefing table and sat down with the two of them.
David ran down the current cases, which were fortunately few. Fewer cases meant less mayhem and murder was going on.
“We have a collection of fibers from Marcella Payden’s place. Mostly collected outside from the second event, the one you were involved in. The fibers are dyed black wool, which we suspect came from the ski masks. There are also several Manila hemp fibers in association with the wool, which may have come from a rope. That may mean the masks and rope were stored together, since there was no report of a rope in connection with the fracas.” David smiled at Diane. “We also have quite a collection of maroon-colored sequins.”
“I’ll bet you do,” said Diane.
“We have several boot prints that are noteworthy,” said David. “A soft-toe work boot from Cherokee, size eleven-about thirty dollars and available at discount stores; Garmont men’s hiking boot, size ten-about two hundred dollars; and an Oliver steel toe safety boot, size ten and a half-about a hundred and fifty dollars. All have wear patterns that will allow us to identify them if we find the boots themselves. Notice the differences in price.”
“I did,” said Diane.
“Ray-Ray Dildy had the cheap boots,” said David. “It looks like his partners had a little more money to spend on footwear.”
“Good evidence,” said Diane. “I imagine Hanks was pleased.”
“He was… with the boot prints,” said David.
Diane raised her eyebrows. “Oh?” she said.
“The description Daughtry and Hanks gave of the events doesn’t fit with the findings on the dead guy.”
Diane closed her eyes a moment. “I don’t like this,” she said. “What doesn’t match?”
“Well, first of all, it was Officer Daughtry’s gun that killed Ray-Ray Dildy,” said David. “I don’t know if you knew that.”
“I feared it might be, but-is there a problem?” asked Diane.
“Daughtry and Hanks both stated that Daughtry had just stepped, or rather, limped off the porch when Daughtry fired his gun,” said David.
“And?” said Diane.
David steepled his hands in front of his face, a gesture he sometimes made when he was trying to explain a point.
“Dildy was found almost at the edge of the woods, a good forty feet from the porch, and there was gunpowder residue around the entry wound on Dildy’s clothing,” said David.
“I see,” said Diane.
“There are two explanations at the moment. Dildy was closer to Officer Daughtry when he was shot than Daughtry and Hanks remembered. And Dildy survived long enough to walk or stumble forty feet across the yard.”
“Did Lynn think that was possible?” asked Diane.
Lynn Webber was the medical examiner for Rosewood and a couple of the surrounding counties. Budget shortfalls had led to a consolidation of medical examiners’ offices in the area. With Diane’s recommendation, Lynn Webber had been brought in from the neighboring county to serve as the multicounty ME. In the process, she had dislodged Rosewood’s ME, who had been tainted by association with the corrupt leadership of the City of Rosewood’s previous administration. It was one small win for the good guys. Diane and Lynn worked well in collaboration when death and crime brought them together.
“She said he could have lived long enough to get a few feet,” said David. “She wasn’t sure about forty feet.”
“You think Daughtry ran him down and shot him?” said Diane. “His leg was injured, but he was pumped full of adrenaline.”
David shook his head. “No blood trail to the body, and Daughtry was bleeding freely from his wound. We do have a trail that more or less matches his and Hanks’ tale, but with a small detour into one of the little rock gardens, or whatever those rock-bordered spaces are that are all around the yard,” said David. “What I think is, Daughtry lost his gun for a time, most likely when he fell through the floor of the porch. One of the other perps picked it up, shot Dildy, and threw the gun down. I think Daughtry then retrieved it, and isn’t admitting that he ever lost it. The chief of police is pretty strict about knowing a gun’s whereabouts at all times. He doesn’t like it when an officer loses track of his gun, even for a few minutes.”
“What does Daughtry say?” asked Diane.
“Don’t know. Don’t want to know. I just deliver evidence, sometimes along with scenarios when appropriate. I explained things to Hanks. He tried to argue with me about what the evidence says and didn’t like it when I stuck to my analysis. But it’s his problem now.”
“Naturally, he’s going to try and protect his own,” said Diane.
“We’re in the same tribe,” said David. He rubbed his balding crown down to the dark fringe around his head where his hair was making its last stand.
“We are on the same side, but that’s a little different from being family,” said Diane. “Your obligation is over now that you’ve told Hanks, so don’t worry about it. My sense is, he may not like it, but he won’t ignore it. Besides, that’s better than having shot a fleeing perp in the back at forty feet. So, anything else I should know about?”
“That covers it as far as the evidence goes. We didn’t get any fingerprints other than exemplars, and Jin tells me that all the blood belongs to Dr. Payden.”
“How did you get Marcella’s fingerprints? Did you take them at the hospital?” asked Diane.
“Didn’t have to,” said David. “She’s on file.” He grinned. “Dr. Payden has a record.”
“What?” said Diane. “For what?”
“Seems that when she was a student many years ago, she protested a construction project that was about to start building on top of a Native American prehistoric site. Archaeologists were trying to get an injunction so they could excavate the site and save the remains from destruction, but the construction contractor was hell-bent on leveling the place before the court order could be issued. She sneaked into the construction site in the dead of night, revved up one of their heavy front-end loaders, and ran over all their smaller equipment, shed and all,” said
