found. It wouldn’t be the first time, in fact for homicides that occurred in wooded areas, it was actually rare to find the bullet. Given the nature of this particular murder, and the lack of any other evidence, the investigating detective, had given strict instructions that the efforts were to continue until a bullet was found. And so the team searched on.
Hadley swept the grid square, slow and steady, making sure he covered every inch. The detector squawked. What would it be this time, he wondered, another set of keys? Or maybe a body piercing from someone’s nose, or another body part. Gross. He raised his hand and the team stopped searching and turned to look his way. A sample box and evidence kit was brought over. The area was marked, photographed, and then excavated. He used a tiny trowel and brush to scrape away the top soil, all the time looking for the metal object. What he found filled him with joy. Not because he wanted this case to be solved (although he did) but because he was sick of standing in these damned woods waving a twenty-pound metal detector back and forth. He was looking at a tiny round piece of metal, about half an inch in diameter. He photographed it once more, and then removed it from its hole. Now to the important part, the one that he and, he was sure the whole team were waiting on with baited breath. The test that could mean the difference between a long hot shower and a chance to see their wives and kids, and another ten hours of tedious searching. The swab was dampened with sterile water and rubbed slightly on the side of the bullet. It was then sprayed with luminol, a chemical that would reveal the traces of human blood when subjected to ultra-violet light. A positive result would require further analysis at the lab to confirm it belonged to the victim, but it was the first step on the road to completing this arduous task. The bullet was dropped into a paper evidence bag which was labeled and stored. Then the spray was applied to the swab. Everyone was watching now, anticipating their afternoon at home. He switched on the UV light and breathed out. At last. A positive match. A chorus of cheers came from the team. The end was in sight—maybe. The swab was dropped in the swab box and the supervisor took the bullet, swab and camera from Hadley. He left a replacement camera and then patted him on the back. The back pat was the only praise he received. It said, good work Hadley. Now keep going. He stood and carried on with his sweep, covering each inch of soil, slowly so as not to miss a thing. All the while he hoped that soon he would be back at home and this evening his team mates would be buying him beers.
Michelle parked in Chris’s spot at the university; she locked the car and walked towards Frank Myers’s office. The students were making their way between lectures or lounging around on the grass at the center of the courtyard, she felt the stares of the students as she walked across the square. Some of the students shared knowing looks, others were less discrete. To hell with them , she thought, let them have their scandal . She was here to sort things out for Chris. There must be something that idiot detective had missed, some proof that Chris had been here working.
The door to Frank’s office was shut but she could see movement through the frosted glass in the window of the door. She knocked once, but didn’t wait for a reply. She walked in to find Frank sitting at his desk with a pen in one hand and a sheath of papers in the other. He looked up over the top of his reading glasses and his face immediately changed from that of annoyance to compassion. He let down the paper and pen and stood to greet her. He held his arms wide and offered a hug. Michelle didn’t need a hug. She looked at Frank and waved his affection away with a raised hand.
‘I’m OK Frank,’ she said, ‘really, I am.’
Frank looked relieved. He lowered his arms and settled against the edge of his desk.
Hadley swept the grid square, slow and steady, making sure he covered every inch. The detector squawked. What would it be this time, he wondered, another set of keys? Or maybe a body piercing from someone’s nose, or another body part. Gross. He raised his hand and the team stopped searching and turned to look his way. A sample box and evidence kit was brought over. The area was marked, photographed, and then excavated. He used a tiny trowel and brush to scrape away the top soil, all the time looking for the metal object. What he found filled him with joy. Not because he wanted this case to be solved (although he did) but because he was sick of standing in these damned woods waving a twenty-pound metal detector back and forth. He was looking at a tiny round piece of metal, about half an inch in diameter. He photographed it once more, and then removed it from its hole. Now to the important part, the one that he and, he was sure the whole team were waiting on with baited breath. The test that could mean the difference between a long hot shower and a chance to see their wives and kids, and another ten hours of tedious searching. The swab was dampened with sterile water and rubbed slightly on the side of the bullet. It was then sprayed with luminol, a chemical that would reveal the traces of human blood when subjected to ultra-violet light. A positive result would require further analysis at the lab to confirm it belonged to the victim, but it was the first step on the road to completing this arduous task. The bullet was dropped into a paper evidence bag which was labeled and stored. Then the spray was applied to the swab. Everyone was watching now, anticipating their afternoon at home. He switched on the UV light and breathed out. At last. A positive match. A chorus of cheers came from the team. The end was in sight—maybe. The swab was dropped in the swab box and the supervisor took the bullet, swab and camera from Hadley. He left a replacement camera and then patted him on the back. The back pat was the only praise he received. It said, good work Hadley. Now keep going. He stood and carried on with his sweep, covering each inch of soil, slowly so as not to miss a thing. All the while he hoped that soon he would be back at home and this evening his team mates would be buying him beers.
Michelle parked in Chris’s spot at the university; she locked the car and walked towards Frank Myers’s office. The students were making their way between lectures or lounging around on the grass at the center of the courtyard, she felt the stares of the students as she walked across the square. Some of the students shared knowing looks, others were less discrete. To hell with them , she thought, let them have their scandal . She was here to sort things out for Chris. There must be something that idiot detective had missed, some proof that Chris had been here working.
The door to Frank’s office was shut but she could see movement through the frosted glass in the window of the door. She knocked once, but didn’t wait for a reply. She walked in to find Frank sitting at his desk with a pen in one hand and a sheath of papers in the other. He looked up over the top of his reading glasses and his face immediately changed from that of annoyance to compassion. He let down the paper and pen and stood to greet her. He held his arms wide and offered a hug. Michelle didn’t need a hug. She looked at Frank and waved his affection away with a raised hand.
‘I’m OK Frank,’ she said, ‘really, I am.’
Frank looked relieved. He lowered his arms and settled against the edge of his desk.
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