Precious Blood Read Free Page B

spatter on the door here, really fine. It’s weird, like contact transfer with half-dried blood.”
    Jenner squinted and peered at the bloodstains. “Yeah, I can see what you mean. You think maybe the blood was already half dry before he kicked the door?”
    He looked at the door. There were small stove-in depressions near the handle, but the damage was limited. “And why isn’t it more battered, Mike?”
    Seeley shrugged. “It’s pretty shitty quality, Doc. Maybe it just buckled rather than really falling apart . . .”
    “Do you think he could have done it barefoot? Usually there’s a shoe imprint or two near where the outer surface breaks, and I can’t see anything here.”
    Seeley tipped his head, studying the door thoughtfully.
    “Yeah, I was wondering about that. Tell you what, we’ll print the whole outer surface, see if we can get a footprint.”
    Madeleine Silver said, “Would a footprint be any use?
    I mean, I know they print babies’ feet in the hospital, but . . .”
    Jenner shook his head. “Probably not. But sometimes you can get a match—for instance, pilots and flight crews have their feet printed for possible identification after a crash. At the least we’ll get his foot size, and that may give us an idea of whether he’s unusually big or small.”
    “I see.” She scribbled in her notebook, then tucked the 16
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    pad into her purse. They walked back toward the living room. She was quiet for a second; Jenner could almost feel it coming.
    “So . . . I thought you quit forensics.”
    “Pretty much. Mostly I’ve been reviewing medical records for asbestos litigation cases, not glamorous, but at least the cat and I get to eat. And I don’t want to do fieldwork anymore.”
    She smiled at him and pressed his arm. “And yet, here you are . . .”
    “If it weren’t Douggie’s niece, I’d have said no.” He asked her if she’d spoken with Whittaker.
    “He figures she was likely strangled, given the eyeball hemorrhages. No obvious sign of sexual assault, but she is naked, so . . .”
    Jenner agreed it looked like an asphyxial death, but said he didn’t think it was a strangulation; either way, the autopsy would resolve the issue. She hesitated, then asked if he thought there was any chance the roommate could have killed her, either alone or with an accomplice.
    “That was her in the hall photos?” he asked. “Ana? The blond girl?”
    Silver nodded. “The woman downstairs ID’d her. She looks pretty athletic to me.”
    “Well, she may be strong, but I doubt anyone her height and build could get that body up onto the wall like that, certainly not by herself.” He shook his head. “But look at the victim—the way the body is shown, spread out naked like that? A man did this.”
    “Yeah, I agree,” she said, nodding firmly. “I just want to keep an open mind.”
    “Well, there’s the hair, too. I think she’s the second victim.
    I think he’s got her.”
    “Christ, I don’t want to even think about it.” She looked around the apartment. “Where’s Garcia?”
    Jenner said, “I think he was calling the chief of detectives, let him know you’re looking at a probable abduction.”
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    She cursed, turned away to call her boss.
    His back was cramping up; he stretched and straightened.
    He realized how tired he was. He’d gone to bed after 3:00
    a.m., and had been woken before dawn. It was almost 10:00
    a.m. now, and he needed a shower and some sleep.
    He’d had enough. He’d call Garcia and Seeley later for an update, maybe come back for a look at the rest of the apartment once they’d finished processing it. And, he figured, if the DA was already asking questions, Whittaker would do the autopsy that afternoon.
    Jesus! Whittaker . . .
    He patted Silver’s shoulder, and she nodded at him as he made his way toward the door. He formally introduced himself to Roggetti, and took his card before leaving the apartment. It was just