coasting through his remaining time. He had certainly earned it.
Instead, he was here in Colorado. Why? Because he had nothing left in his life. As Darby drank her coffee, she felt a vague and uncertain horror about her future. She was at the halfway point in her life where the finish line was no longer hidden behind the fog of youth; it was real, it was approaching, and there was no turning back. Looking at Hoder, she felt as though she were being paid a visit from her own Ghost of Christmases Yet to Come.
‘It can’t be a coincidence that in all the crime scenes there was an electronic device with a camera pointed at bound family members,’ Darby said.
‘Agreed. I’m afraid I have a rather embarrassing confession.’ When Hoder looked at her, his eyes were bright and full of mirth. ‘Don’t tell anyone this, but I’m somewhat of a technophobe. Computers and smartphones and now these tablets – frankly the whole thing gives me a headache. I can’t keep up with it, nor do I want to keep up with it.’
‘I feel the same way.’
Hoder chuckled. ‘I doubt it. All these gizmos and programs, they make me feel … old. Obsolete.’
‘Technology and software changes from day to day. You’ve got to be a full-time geek to keep up with this stuff. The rest of us are left in the dust.’
Darby refilled her cup. The coffee was bitter, but it would do the job. ‘Let’s start with Wi-Fi. You know what that is?’
‘Wireless internet connection.’
‘See, you’re not as bad as you think.’
‘My seven-year-old grandson had to tell me what it meant.’
‘Then I take back what I just said.’ Darby smiled over her cup.
‘If what you’re saying is true – that the Ripper recorded his interactions with the families – then can I assume he may have been watching or listening or both yesterday, when you, Cooper and Williams went inside the bedroom?’
‘It wouldn’t surprise me.’
‘How could he do that? Do you need some sort of special software?’
‘That I don’t know. The RCFL guys –’
‘Who?’
‘Regional Computer Forensics Laboratory out of Denver. Forensics geeks who specialize in phones and computers. Coop is going to meet with them first thing this morning, at nine.’
‘You spoke with him?’
‘This morning, about five.’ Coop had been up all night with four other agents on loan from the Denver office.
‘Did he have anything to say about the evidence he brought to Denver?’
‘No prints were recovered from the plastic bag, duct tape or plastic bindings. But there are a few potential bright spots.’
‘The blood Coop recovered from the bedroom flooring.’
Darby nodded. ‘There’s also a chance our man left either sweat or skin cells on that piece of latex stuck to the duct tape – and we have that fingerprint pressed into the polyurethane while it was still in the process of drying.’
‘Wouldn’t it be nice if our man was in our databases?’
‘It certainly would be,’ Darby said, although she wasn’t pinning her hopes on it.
While there was a fighting chance the fingerprint might find a match on IAFIS, the FBI’s Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System, CODIS, the Bureau’s Combined DNA Index System, was another matter. The majority of DNA samples stored on that database belonged to unsolved violent crime investigations. If the blood found on the floor, or skin or sweat from the duct tape, did, in fact, belong to the Ripper, and if he had left a matching DNA sample at another crime scene, a link would then have been established. If, if, if , Darby thought. She could count on one hand the number of cases where CODIS came back with a match linked to a known offender.
‘DNA testing will take longer,’ Darby said. ‘Coop is thinking of sending the samples directly to your lab. He’s also going to send the duct tape there.’ Because duct tape was often used in murders, the federal lab kept its own library of tape samples.
Hoder shifted
Instead, he was here in Colorado. Why? Because he had nothing left in his life. As Darby drank her coffee, she felt a vague and uncertain horror about her future. She was at the halfway point in her life where the finish line was no longer hidden behind the fog of youth; it was real, it was approaching, and there was no turning back. Looking at Hoder, she felt as though she were being paid a visit from her own Ghost of Christmases Yet to Come.
‘It can’t be a coincidence that in all the crime scenes there was an electronic device with a camera pointed at bound family members,’ Darby said.
‘Agreed. I’m afraid I have a rather embarrassing confession.’ When Hoder looked at her, his eyes were bright and full of mirth. ‘Don’t tell anyone this, but I’m somewhat of a technophobe. Computers and smartphones and now these tablets – frankly the whole thing gives me a headache. I can’t keep up with it, nor do I want to keep up with it.’
‘I feel the same way.’
Hoder chuckled. ‘I doubt it. All these gizmos and programs, they make me feel … old. Obsolete.’
‘Technology and software changes from day to day. You’ve got to be a full-time geek to keep up with this stuff. The rest of us are left in the dust.’
Darby refilled her cup. The coffee was bitter, but it would do the job. ‘Let’s start with Wi-Fi. You know what that is?’
‘Wireless internet connection.’
‘See, you’re not as bad as you think.’
‘My seven-year-old grandson had to tell me what it meant.’
‘Then I take back what I just said.’ Darby smiled over her cup.
‘If what you’re saying is true – that the Ripper recorded his interactions with the families – then can I assume he may have been watching or listening or both yesterday, when you, Cooper and Williams went inside the bedroom?’
‘It wouldn’t surprise me.’
‘How could he do that? Do you need some sort of special software?’
‘That I don’t know. The RCFL guys –’
‘Who?’
‘Regional Computer Forensics Laboratory out of Denver. Forensics geeks who specialize in phones and computers. Coop is going to meet with them first thing this morning, at nine.’
‘You spoke with him?’
‘This morning, about five.’ Coop had been up all night with four other agents on loan from the Denver office.
‘Did he have anything to say about the evidence he brought to Denver?’
‘No prints were recovered from the plastic bag, duct tape or plastic bindings. But there are a few potential bright spots.’
‘The blood Coop recovered from the bedroom flooring.’
Darby nodded. ‘There’s also a chance our man left either sweat or skin cells on that piece of latex stuck to the duct tape – and we have that fingerprint pressed into the polyurethane while it was still in the process of drying.’
‘Wouldn’t it be nice if our man was in our databases?’
‘It certainly would be,’ Darby said, although she wasn’t pinning her hopes on it.
While there was a fighting chance the fingerprint might find a match on IAFIS, the FBI’s Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System, CODIS, the Bureau’s Combined DNA Index System, was another matter. The majority of DNA samples stored on that database belonged to unsolved violent crime investigations. If the blood found on the floor, or skin or sweat from the duct tape, did, in fact, belong to the Ripper, and if he had left a matching DNA sample at another crime scene, a link would then have been established. If, if, if , Darby thought. She could count on one hand the number of cases where CODIS came back with a match linked to a known offender.
‘DNA testing will take longer,’ Darby said. ‘Coop is thinking of sending the samples directly to your lab. He’s also going to send the duct tape there.’ Because duct tape was often used in murders, the federal lab kept its own library of tape samples.
Hoder shifted
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