being recorded on exterior PSU cameras when he's entering and leaving the building, so maybe he uses a face-changer to alter his features after each killing. He's trying to make it harder for us to catch him."
"No, it wouldn't work," Noland shook his head. "One of the reasons face-changers are so heavily regulated is because it's dangerous to over-use them. The perp killed three people over a nine-hour period. If he was changing his face that frequently, all that would be left of it by now would be a puddle of flesh-coloured goo. And anyway, a face-changer wouldn't account for the differences in his height and weight that Anderson saw in her scans."
"What if the perp's carrying a portable holo-unit?" Warming to his subject, Yoakim's voice grew eager. "Some of those new consumer models out of Hondo are small enough for you to fit them in your pocket. I mean, they're pretty pricey and you've got to be careful about interference if you move too close to anything emitting EM radiation, but that could explain how he changes his appearance."
"It could do," Anderson said as she considered his suggestion. "I don't know though. Holo-units can work fine at a distance, but the illusion doesn't hold up so well when you get in close. Someone can make themselves look taller or shorter, but their arms and legs are still physically the same size. When you're up close, eventually the inconsistencies add up. You start to realise their stride length is wrong, or their arms don't reach as far as they should. Even if you don't realise what's causing it, unconsciously you still know there's something wrong. The perp got really close to his victims, close enough for them to notice the kinds of things I'm talking about, and yet I didn't get any sense of it in the scans. No. It was a good idea, Yoakim, but I just don't think it fits."
Pausing, Anderson considered the matter for a few seconds longer. Then, finally, she sighed.
"All right," she said, glancing at the Tek-Judge. "So maybe we need to look at this thing from a different angle. What about you, Yoakim? Have you got anything for us? Fingerprints? DNA comparisons? Other forensics?"
"Well, despite what I said about the perp trying to make it hard for us to catch him, he doesn't wear gloves," Yoakim said. "I got a bloody handprint on the kitchen table at the Maddens crime scene, as well as a partial thumbprint on the front door that probably belongs to our perp as well. A couple more bloody fingerprints were found at the Bibbs and Henk homicides, but when I ran them through MAC for analysis, I didn't get any hits. It's the same with the perp's DNA. I couldn't find any matches in the Justice Department database. Either the perp is from out of town or he's somehow managed to slip through the system. Guess that explains the lack of gloves."
"Out of town?" For a moment, Anderson cast her mind back to the memories she had experienced during the psychometric scan of each victim. "Now you mention it, there was something in the voices of the delivery men. They all sounded identical. There was a slight accent. I can't quite place it though."
"I can forward the fingerprints and DNA to some of the other city-states and ask them to compare them to their records." Yoakim grimaced. "I wouldn't get your hopes up though. We've got reciprocal arrangements with some of them, but you know what it's like with Inter-Judicial bureaucracy. It can take an age before the wheels are finally set in motion."
"Do it anyway," she told him. "You never know, we might get lucky. Other than that, it sounds like we're batting zero on all fronts."
"Of course, there could be another explanation for these multiple delivery men of yours, Anderson." Judge Weller had been listening to the conversation in brooding silence, and so far he'd kept his own counsel. Now, at last, he spoke. "Not wanting to harp on with a familiar theme, but how do we know we can even rely on the results of your scans?"
"You'll just have to trust my
"No, it wouldn't work," Noland shook his head. "One of the reasons face-changers are so heavily regulated is because it's dangerous to over-use them. The perp killed three people over a nine-hour period. If he was changing his face that frequently, all that would be left of it by now would be a puddle of flesh-coloured goo. And anyway, a face-changer wouldn't account for the differences in his height and weight that Anderson saw in her scans."
"What if the perp's carrying a portable holo-unit?" Warming to his subject, Yoakim's voice grew eager. "Some of those new consumer models out of Hondo are small enough for you to fit them in your pocket. I mean, they're pretty pricey and you've got to be careful about interference if you move too close to anything emitting EM radiation, but that could explain how he changes his appearance."
"It could do," Anderson said as she considered his suggestion. "I don't know though. Holo-units can work fine at a distance, but the illusion doesn't hold up so well when you get in close. Someone can make themselves look taller or shorter, but their arms and legs are still physically the same size. When you're up close, eventually the inconsistencies add up. You start to realise their stride length is wrong, or their arms don't reach as far as they should. Even if you don't realise what's causing it, unconsciously you still know there's something wrong. The perp got really close to his victims, close enough for them to notice the kinds of things I'm talking about, and yet I didn't get any sense of it in the scans. No. It was a good idea, Yoakim, but I just don't think it fits."
Pausing, Anderson considered the matter for a few seconds longer. Then, finally, she sighed.
"All right," she said, glancing at the Tek-Judge. "So maybe we need to look at this thing from a different angle. What about you, Yoakim? Have you got anything for us? Fingerprints? DNA comparisons? Other forensics?"
"Well, despite what I said about the perp trying to make it hard for us to catch him, he doesn't wear gloves," Yoakim said. "I got a bloody handprint on the kitchen table at the Maddens crime scene, as well as a partial thumbprint on the front door that probably belongs to our perp as well. A couple more bloody fingerprints were found at the Bibbs and Henk homicides, but when I ran them through MAC for analysis, I didn't get any hits. It's the same with the perp's DNA. I couldn't find any matches in the Justice Department database. Either the perp is from out of town or he's somehow managed to slip through the system. Guess that explains the lack of gloves."
"Out of town?" For a moment, Anderson cast her mind back to the memories she had experienced during the psychometric scan of each victim. "Now you mention it, there was something in the voices of the delivery men. They all sounded identical. There was a slight accent. I can't quite place it though."
"I can forward the fingerprints and DNA to some of the other city-states and ask them to compare them to their records." Yoakim grimaced. "I wouldn't get your hopes up though. We've got reciprocal arrangements with some of them, but you know what it's like with Inter-Judicial bureaucracy. It can take an age before the wheels are finally set in motion."
"Do it anyway," she told him. "You never know, we might get lucky. Other than that, it sounds like we're batting zero on all fronts."
"Of course, there could be another explanation for these multiple delivery men of yours, Anderson." Judge Weller had been listening to the conversation in brooding silence, and so far he'd kept his own counsel. Now, at last, he spoke. "Not wanting to harp on with a familiar theme, but how do we know we can even rely on the results of your scans?"
"You'll just have to trust my
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