Bowman watched in silence wondering why they were taking only two items and leaving the rest behind.

Fifty-Two

At eight o’clock that evening Doctor Winston was getting ready to finish for the day and go home when he received the call from Hunter. The deodorant spray can and the hairbrush needed testing for prints and DNA.

Hunter knew the results from the DNA test would take around five days to come through, maybe three if they put in a super-urgent request, but the fingerprint analysis could be done tonight. Doctor Winston said he’d wait for them.

Hunter was glad they weren’t inside the basement room where both victims’ bodies were kept. The Coroner’s building made him feel uneasy, but the basement room gave him the creeps. The forensics lab was located on the first floor and Doctor Winston had asked Ricardo Pinheiro, one of the forensic analysts, to stay behind and help him with the fingerprint job. Hunter handed Ricardo the deodorant can and watched while he applied a fingerprint powder made of titanium dioxide to it. The high-reflexive index of the powder against the smooth metal surface of the can reacted almost immediately, revealing several latent fingerprints.

Ricardo dusted the excess powder from the can and proceeded to transfer the prints to several clear cellophane slides.

‘On a fast naked-eye first look I’d say we probably have three sets of prints here.’ Ricardo was rarely wrong. He took the cellophane slides to the nearest microscope and carried on analyzing them.

‘Yep, three different sets, but there’s a predominant one,’ he said after a minute at the microscope.

‘Let’s check the predominant set of prints first then,’ Doctor Winston said. ‘Can you transfer them to the computer?’

‘Sure,’ Ricardo said, taking the slides and moving on to one of the video microscopes, which were already linked to the lab computers. He took a snapshot of each fingerprint and with each shot the photo-analysis software displayed an enhanced image on the computer screen.

‘Do you want me to run the prints against the police criminal fingerprint database?’ Ricardo enquired.

‘No, check it against this one.’ Doctor Winston handed him a small pen drive with the digital image of the first victim’s fingerprint on it.

Ricardo loaded the image into the computer’s hard drive and with just a few clicks he had both images side by side on the analysis software. He clicked the ‘compare’ button.

Several comparison point red dots appeared over both fingerprint shots. It took the software less than five seconds to display the words Positive Match at the bottom of the screen.

‘Yep, they’re the same person,’ Ricardo confirmed.

‘It’s official, we finally have a match for our victim,’ Doctor Winston said. ‘Who was she again?’

‘Her name was Victoria Baker. Canadian… had been living in LA for four years,’ Garcia replied.

Hunter kept his eyes on the fingerprint images on the computer. ‘We’ll run the other two prints against the police database just in case,’ he finally said, obviously bothered about something. It wasn’t until they were back in Garcia’s car that he spoke again.

‘We’re back to square one where links between victims are concerned. This screws up our “sex party” theory. George Slater probably never heard of Victoria Baker.’

Garcia ran both hands over his face and rubbed his eyes in the process. ‘I know.’

‘We have to find out where she was abducted from. Her place might give us some clues, but we won’t get a warrant until tomorrow.’

Garcia agreed. ‘We also have to contact her family in Canada and let them know.’

Hunter nodded slowly. That was one task they both could do without.

‘I’ll do it tonight,’ Hunter said.

As Garcia parked his car back by the RHD building Hunter wondered if he looked as tired and defeated as his partner did.

‘I’ll talk to Captain Bolter about the warrant and hopefully we’ll have it first thing tomorrow morning,’ Hunter said. ‘I’ll meet you here at around ten-thirty, first I’ll try and get another list of patients from one more hospital.’

Garcia rested his head against the headrest and took a deep breath.

‘Go home, rookie,’ Hunter said stealing a peek at his watch. ‘It’s not even nine o’clock yet. Spend the night with your wife. You need it and so does she. There’s nothing more for us to do tonight.’

There was always something to do in the office, but Hunter was right. There was nothing else they could accomplish tonight. Garcia thought of what had happened the night before with Anna and he could do with being home before she’d gone to bed at least once this week. They’d been working on casino time for weeks, never knowing what time it was. Even a tiny break would be welcome.

‘Yeah, Anna will appreciate me being home tonight.’

‘That’s right,’ Hunter agreed. ‘Get her some flowers on the way home. Not some cheap bouquet, something nice. Remember, buying somebody a present indicates your knowledge of that somebody’s personality, so get her something that you know she’ll like,’ he said with a reassuring smile.

Fifty-Three

Garcia took Hunter’s advice and dropped by Markey’s, a small convenience store on North Rampant Boulevard. It stocked just about everything, from flowers to booze, and their meatball sandwich and freshly brewed coffee weren’t bad either. Garcia had stopped there plenty of times back when he used to be a detective for the LAPD. It was a small detour from his way home, but he was sure Anna would appreciate his effort.

The tall, very attractive blond behind the counter greeted Garcia with a wide smile showing beautifully formed teeth. Garcia smiled back and ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to look a little more presentable.

Garcia decided to take a nice bottle of red wine home as well as the flowers. It’d been some time since he and Anna shared a bottle and she loved a nice bottle of Rioja. The flowers were displayed right at the store entrance, but Garcia ignored them for the moment.

‘Excuse me, where do you keep your bottles of wine?’

‘Right at the back,’ the blond girl replied with a new smile.

Their selection wasn’t exactly impressive, but then again Garcia wasn’t exactly a connoisseur. He chose a bottle by price. The more it costs, the better it should taste, he thought. He went back to where the flowers were and chose a nicely arranged bouquet of red roses.

‘I guess this will be all,’ he said placing everything on the counter.

‘That will be 40.95 please!’

Garcia handed her three twenty-dollar bills.

‘She’s a very lucky lady,’ the blond girl said, handing back his change.

‘Excuse me!’

‘The lady those flowers are for… very lucky lady.’ She smiled again and Garcia noticed how young and pretty she was.

‘Oh! Thank you,’ he blushed.

‘Do you live around here?’

‘Umm… no, I just needed to get a few things. This is on my way home,’ he lied.

‘Oh… that’s a pity, but maybe you can stop back here again some time?’

Garcia had no reply but a timid smile.

Outside, as he approached his car, Garcia couldn’t believe the store attendant had come on to him. That hadn’t happened in a very long time.

Other than a brand-new-looking Chevy van there was no other car on the parking lot. He opened his passenger door and carefully placed the roses on the seat. His thoughts going back to the day’s developments. He still found it hard to come to terms with how alike Jenny Farnborough and Victoria Baker looked. Garcia didn’t believe in coincidences, but he also didn’t believe that both women going missing at the same time had been planned. This killer didn’t keep his victims for long. Once they were abducted, they would turn up tortured and dead within a few days. Vicki Baker had been the victim. Jenny Farnborough had probably just gone missing, he thought.