.
Have lots of frantic, wheezing sex." "You are too hilarious."
Ramona never wore her contacts when she was superglue-fuming, since
exposure to the fumes might've glued her contact lenses to her corneas.
Instead, she wore a pair of spinsterish wire-rim eyeglasses that made
her look owlish and conceited.
Jack got a big kick out of Ramona's
fresh-scrubbed earnestness. The rest of the techies who roamed the bowels
of the crime lab were a grizzled, middle-aged bunch, but Ramona was young
and unpretentious. Today her Gap jeans and tailored blouse were neatly
pressed, and she wore a silver pin in the shape of a horse. There was a
horse etched into the buckle of her belt, too. He liked that she had a
horse theme going and wondered how long she'd thought about it while
getting dressed that morning. Jack hadn't thought about anything while
getting dressed that morning; he considered just throwing on a suit and
tie to be a major accomplishment.
"The question is, Makowski…
will you ever find true love with anybody other than yourself?"
"Speaking of true love, Ramona,
when are we getting married?"
She had a lovely laugh. "You
are truly demented."
"Oh, right. I forgot. You're
way too 'edgy' for me."
"Do me a favor," she said.
"The next time you get the urge to commit matrimony, just go out and
find a woman who can't stand you, give her your paycheck and be done with
it."
The superglue-fuming chamber
was a large cabinet about eight feet long and four feet high with various
access doors and storage compartments. Next to the control panel on
top of the unit was a glass bell jar. The bell jar was eighteen inches
tall and allowed Ramona to process smaller items without having to use
the entire chamber, thereby saving on cyanoacrylate ,
or CA, also known as superglue. Arranged on a tray were some of the
items Jack had tagged in Anna Hubbard's apartment the other day. Ramona
had been lifting prints for eight hours straight without any luck. Most
of the latents were "elimination prints,"
which meant they matched either the victim or others who had legitimate
excuses for being at the scene.
Now she deposited a few drops of
glue into a glass dish in the bottom tray of the bell jar, then secured and
activated the unit. Two small fans blew the dispersing CA fumes throughout
the bell jar, evenly coating the evidence. A latent print was made up of
natural skin secretions-perspiration, sebaceous oils and dirt. Although
the sweat in a latent print dried fairly quickly-making it impossible
to trace-the amino acids could last for months. Since superglue had an
affinity for amino acids, all you needed was a few drops of glue, any
brand, heated inside an airtight chamber. After a few minutes of exposure,
the dispersing fumes would stick to the amino acids and leave a visible
print behind.
Now Ramona switched off the fans
and vented the gas. " Hm ," she said, taking
out the water glass. "Good palm print. Large. Possibly male."
"Is he right-or left-handed?"
Jack asked.
She turned it over. "See these
top ridges? The way they flow inward toward the body? He's right-handed.
Definitely." She chose a dark red powder from her dusting kit, dusted
the water glass and lifted the palm print off with a piece of transparent
tape.
"Any fingerprints?"
"Let's see," she said,
examining the water glass, tilting it sideways, turning it upside
down. "Uh-oh. Looks like he wore Band-Aids, Jack."
"Shit." It was an old burglar's
trick. To avoid leaving your fingerprints at the scene, you simply cut
the adhesive tape off ten Band-Aids, trimmed them to the shape of your
fingertips and voila. Instant anonymity.
"I doubt he left any latents at the scene," she said. "Oh well. At
least we've got a decent palm print."
"Which won't be on the database."
The fingerprint database of
known criminals dated back to 1972, when the FBI first introduced a standard
system of print classification. The National Crime Information Center
served to expedite the exchange of information
Have lots of frantic, wheezing sex." "You are too hilarious."
Ramona never wore her contacts when she was superglue-fuming, since
exposure to the fumes might've glued her contact lenses to her corneas.
Instead, she wore a pair of spinsterish wire-rim eyeglasses that made
her look owlish and conceited.
Jack got a big kick out of Ramona's
fresh-scrubbed earnestness. The rest of the techies who roamed the bowels
of the crime lab were a grizzled, middle-aged bunch, but Ramona was young
and unpretentious. Today her Gap jeans and tailored blouse were neatly
pressed, and she wore a silver pin in the shape of a horse. There was a
horse etched into the buckle of her belt, too. He liked that she had a
horse theme going and wondered how long she'd thought about it while
getting dressed that morning. Jack hadn't thought about anything while
getting dressed that morning; he considered just throwing on a suit and
tie to be a major accomplishment.
"The question is, Makowski…
will you ever find true love with anybody other than yourself?"
"Speaking of true love, Ramona,
when are we getting married?"
She had a lovely laugh. "You
are truly demented."
"Oh, right. I forgot. You're
way too 'edgy' for me."
"Do me a favor," she said.
"The next time you get the urge to commit matrimony, just go out and
find a woman who can't stand you, give her your paycheck and be done with
it."
The superglue-fuming chamber
was a large cabinet about eight feet long and four feet high with various
access doors and storage compartments. Next to the control panel on
top of the unit was a glass bell jar. The bell jar was eighteen inches
tall and allowed Ramona to process smaller items without having to use
the entire chamber, thereby saving on cyanoacrylate ,
or CA, also known as superglue. Arranged on a tray were some of the
items Jack had tagged in Anna Hubbard's apartment the other day. Ramona
had been lifting prints for eight hours straight without any luck. Most
of the latents were "elimination prints,"
which meant they matched either the victim or others who had legitimate
excuses for being at the scene.
Now she deposited a few drops of
glue into a glass dish in the bottom tray of the bell jar, then secured and
activated the unit. Two small fans blew the dispersing CA fumes throughout
the bell jar, evenly coating the evidence. A latent print was made up of
natural skin secretions-perspiration, sebaceous oils and dirt. Although
the sweat in a latent print dried fairly quickly-making it impossible
to trace-the amino acids could last for months. Since superglue had an
affinity for amino acids, all you needed was a few drops of glue, any
brand, heated inside an airtight chamber. After a few minutes of exposure,
the dispersing fumes would stick to the amino acids and leave a visible
print behind.
Now Ramona switched off the fans
and vented the gas. " Hm ," she said, taking
out the water glass. "Good palm print. Large. Possibly male."
"Is he right-or left-handed?"
Jack asked.
She turned it over. "See these
top ridges? The way they flow inward toward the body? He's right-handed.
Definitely." She chose a dark red powder from her dusting kit, dusted
the water glass and lifted the palm print off with a piece of transparent
tape.
"Any fingerprints?"
"Let's see," she said,
examining the water glass, tilting it sideways, turning it upside
down. "Uh-oh. Looks like he wore Band-Aids, Jack."
"Shit." It was an old burglar's
trick. To avoid leaving your fingerprints at the scene, you simply cut
the adhesive tape off ten Band-Aids, trimmed them to the shape of your
fingertips and voila. Instant anonymity.
"I doubt he left any latents at the scene," she said. "Oh well. At
least we've got a decent palm print."
"Which won't be on the database."
The fingerprint database of
known criminals dated back to 1972, when the FBI first introduced a standard
system of print classification. The National Crime Information Center
served to expedite the exchange of information
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