The open space Kevin stood in now was on the other side of the patch of trees and bushes. The officers had expanded the crime scene to include most of it, and Kevin now stood a few feet inside the tape, looking back at the administration building. He’d lined the blood splatter up with the top of the building, and he was looking up to see where it should be on the other side of the woods. He’d retrieved his binoculars from his trunk and was looking for the opening he’d seen from the other side. He’d already carefully examined the ground he was standing on for any sign of evidence. Given the crowd of students that had been run out of here when they’d moved the tape back and the unlikelihood that anyone would choose such an open position to shoot someone, it seemed nothing more than a formality.
Kevin peered into the trees and bushes with the binoculars and shifted sideways a few inches at a time. Eventually, he could make out the wall of the admin building. He shifted again, more wall. Another shift and there was the blood splatter. He marked the position with a little, numbered tag. Shining his flashlight on the ground, he slowly moved forward. The grass had been kept trimmed but it was still thick. He didn’t have much hope of finding any footprints here.
After a few steps, he came up to a wrought-iron and wood bench. The grass was more sparse in its shadow, and his flashlight beam picked up a wadded, paper, soda-pop cup beneath it. He examined the ground in front of and behind it carefully. Hesitating, he looked around. To his left and behind him were more woods. To his right, in the distance was another walkway and the edge of a building, too far for anyone to see what he was doing in the dark. He switched off the flashlight, and leaning down, sniffed the bench.
Grass, dirt, car exhaust, and tree pollen, were all ambient smells from the surrounding area. Kevin dismissed them. The faint odor of pine (the wood from the bench), a sweetish chemical smell (the varnish), there it was, soap. The odor had been fading and would be gone in a few hours as time passed and more of the night dew settled on the bench, but it was definitely there. He was trying to think of the brand. It was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. What was also telling was the lack of after-shave or perfume. Someone had spent some time on this bench within the past two hours that used soap, but no after-shave or perfume.
Kevin sighted the flag he’d placed, then turned and looked for the opening. On into the woods, the underbrush was thick. In the daytime or with a good light at night someone could see at least halfway through the patch of bushes and trees. That left it undesirable as a hideout, but the entire thickness made an effective visual separator between the open area behind him and the clutter of buildings on the other side. Kevin pointed his flashlight onto the ground.
Any movement he made could obliterate evidence, so he walked carefully. The grass was thick, but as the wooded area started, the leafy underbrush prevented the grass from getting enough sunlight. Therefore there were bare patches. Careful to walk only on the grass, Kevin inched forward. Finally, his search was rewarded. He could make out the imprint of a knee next to the pattern of a shoe, but they appeared to be facing perpendicular to the direction of the opening. Kevin turned and imagined he was holding a gun. He turned his head back toward the opening and as he did his eye caught the light from other gaps in the trees. They weren’t very big, but they opened up to spots along the walkway.
Kevin backed up and frowned. This was ridiculous. How would the shooter know the victim would stop at exactly that spot? Kevin watched as a few students walked past the opening. There was a brief change of color and they were past. It would take impossible instincts to get off a shot in that little time, and even then it would be impossible to know that you were shooting the right person.
Kevin marked the ground with another label and backed away. Just to satisfy his curiosity, he stepped around the prints on the ground and pushed his head into the maze of branches above and further in from them. Yes, there it was, very faint, but unmistakable. Burnt gunpowder. Kevin looked into the branches and through the opening, he could see the forensic team taking pictures of the body.