[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
mind going and getting it?
He didn t answer; he just headed to the truck. He might not know a lot about
vehicle exhaust systems, but he was easygoing and he didn t seem overly
impressed with his own importance. When he handed me the tweezers, I
maneuvered the tips down through the burned stalks of grass, squeezed gently,
and plucked out the small black shape that had caught my eye. It was hard,
oval more or less and pinched in the center. Looking closely, I saw that
the pinch in the center was caused by a bit of heavy wire, clamped tight.
I held it out for Cash s inspection. Any idea what that is?
None, he said.
You think it could be something off the underside of the car? A hose clamp or
fuel-line fitting or some such?
He shrugged once more. You re asking the guy who had no idea where the
catalytic converter would be?
You re right. I laughed. What was I thinking?
We could check with the mechanics at the Lexus dealership, he said. Maybe
one of those guys would recognize it.
See, you come up with a good idea every now and then, I said.
He grinned. Even a blind squirrel finds some nuts.
Something about the shape was familiar to me. Not the blackened blob but the
heavy wire. I couldn t place it, though, and when Cash held out an evidence
bag, I deposited my find inside. Cash sealed and dated it, but then his pen
hesitated.
Problem?
We have to list everything we confiscate when we return the warrant to the
judge, he said. I ve got no idea what to call this.
Call it blackened blob, I suggested helpfully.
He shot me an unamused look.
Or unidentified burned object recovered from beneath area of burned car.
That sounds better, he said. I can see why they think highly of you at UT.
Cash and I both went over the rest of the area beneath and surrounding the
car, but neither of us found anything else, so he headed back to the house and
I headed for UT. As I d done on my way in, I drove slowly to savor the view.
Just as I was nearing the barn, my peripheral vision snagged on something. I
stopped the truck and backed up. About ten feet to the left of the dirt track
was a small, neat oval, about one foot by two feet, sketched by scorched earth
and burned grass. I got out and knelt, using the tip of a pen to sift through
the charred stalks. I found nothing. All the same, I retrieved two evidence
flags from the back of my truck. I stuck one right beside the circle and the
other ten feet away, at the nearest edge of the dirt track.
As I turned from the driveway onto Middlebrook Pike toward downtown, I phoned
Cash on his cell, describing what I d seen and where to find the markers.
Page 38
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Maybe it s nothing, I said.
Maybe, he said. But maybe not.
Maybe a blind squirrel just found a nut, I said.
CHAPTER 11
I BOUNDED INTO THE BONE LAB JUST BEFORE LUNCH-TIME , eager to tell Miranda
about my finds at the Latham farm. She wasn t there.
Normally, unless she was out helping me recover a body or bones from a death
scene or dashing to the Body Farm to deliver a corpse or retrieve a skeleton,
Miranda practically lived in the osteology lab. I could count on walking in to
find her bent over a lab table, measuring bones and keying the dimensions into
the Forensic Data Bank. Every skeleton we got and this year we d get nearly
150, arriving at the Farm as fully fleshed cadavers and departing bare-boned
had to be measured, their dozens of dimensions added to the data bank. The
work was tedious and time-consuming, and most of it was done by Miranda.
Perhaps I should have been happy she was getting a brief break, but instead I
felt slightly annoyed that she wasn t here to listen.
I glanced at Miranda s computer screen the scene of so much Googling and
noticed a map filling the display. It was a street map of Knoxville s North
Hills neighborhood, which happened to be Miranda s neighborhood. It struck me
as odd that Miranda would need a map of her own neighborhood. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl chiara76.opx.pl
mind going and getting it?
He didn t answer; he just headed to the truck. He might not know a lot about
vehicle exhaust systems, but he was easygoing and he didn t seem overly
impressed with his own importance. When he handed me the tweezers, I
maneuvered the tips down through the burned stalks of grass, squeezed gently,
and plucked out the small black shape that had caught my eye. It was hard,
oval more or less and pinched in the center. Looking closely, I saw that
the pinch in the center was caused by a bit of heavy wire, clamped tight.
I held it out for Cash s inspection. Any idea what that is?
None, he said.
You think it could be something off the underside of the car? A hose clamp or
fuel-line fitting or some such?
He shrugged once more. You re asking the guy who had no idea where the
catalytic converter would be?
You re right. I laughed. What was I thinking?
We could check with the mechanics at the Lexus dealership, he said. Maybe
one of those guys would recognize it.
See, you come up with a good idea every now and then, I said.
He grinned. Even a blind squirrel finds some nuts.
Something about the shape was familiar to me. Not the blackened blob but the
heavy wire. I couldn t place it, though, and when Cash held out an evidence
bag, I deposited my find inside. Cash sealed and dated it, but then his pen
hesitated.
Problem?
We have to list everything we confiscate when we return the warrant to the
judge, he said. I ve got no idea what to call this.
Call it blackened blob, I suggested helpfully.
He shot me an unamused look.
Or unidentified burned object recovered from beneath area of burned car.
That sounds better, he said. I can see why they think highly of you at UT.
Cash and I both went over the rest of the area beneath and surrounding the
car, but neither of us found anything else, so he headed back to the house and
I headed for UT. As I d done on my way in, I drove slowly to savor the view.
Just as I was nearing the barn, my peripheral vision snagged on something. I
stopped the truck and backed up. About ten feet to the left of the dirt track
was a small, neat oval, about one foot by two feet, sketched by scorched earth
and burned grass. I got out and knelt, using the tip of a pen to sift through
the charred stalks. I found nothing. All the same, I retrieved two evidence
flags from the back of my truck. I stuck one right beside the circle and the
other ten feet away, at the nearest edge of the dirt track.
As I turned from the driveway onto Middlebrook Pike toward downtown, I phoned
Cash on his cell, describing what I d seen and where to find the markers.
Page 38
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Maybe it s nothing, I said.
Maybe, he said. But maybe not.
Maybe a blind squirrel just found a nut, I said.
CHAPTER 11
I BOUNDED INTO THE BONE LAB JUST BEFORE LUNCH-TIME , eager to tell Miranda
about my finds at the Latham farm. She wasn t there.
Normally, unless she was out helping me recover a body or bones from a death
scene or dashing to the Body Farm to deliver a corpse or retrieve a skeleton,
Miranda practically lived in the osteology lab. I could count on walking in to
find her bent over a lab table, measuring bones and keying the dimensions into
the Forensic Data Bank. Every skeleton we got and this year we d get nearly
150, arriving at the Farm as fully fleshed cadavers and departing bare-boned
had to be measured, their dozens of dimensions added to the data bank. The
work was tedious and time-consuming, and most of it was done by Miranda.
Perhaps I should have been happy she was getting a brief break, but instead I
felt slightly annoyed that she wasn t here to listen.
I glanced at Miranda s computer screen the scene of so much Googling and
noticed a map filling the display. It was a street map of Knoxville s North
Hills neighborhood, which happened to be Miranda s neighborhood. It struck me
as odd that Miranda would need a map of her own neighborhood. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]