Kevin wasn’t surprised at the crowd they could see surrounding the crime scene. It wasn’t a pressing throng, but enough to make anyone notice something was going on. He remembered his college days. Any kind of excitement was welcome.
He pulled around to the back of the administration building and parked in a visitor’s space. Several students gave them mildly curious stares as they walked past. Kevin had offered to drive Laura to the hotel room the police department was putting her up in, but she insisted on beginning the investigation.
“It’s through there,” Kevin said nodding toward the back opening of the breezeway.
They unbuckled, and Kevin hopped out and shut his door. Laura opened her door, put both feet on the ground and using the spring of the seat, gave a little bounce, and stood up. Turning back around, with one hand on the roof of the car for leverage she shut her car door. Kevin stepped onto the sidewalk, paused and waited for Laura to walk around the front of the vehicle. Together they made their way to the breezeway.
As they entered the breezeway, they could see some students gathered on the other end, talking and sometimes staring toward the crime scene. Fortunately, while there were plenty of students there, there was enough room for them to make their way through the crowd and approach the police tape.
Kevin lifted the tape and stepped aside for Laura to duck under. He followed, and they approached the officer.
“Hey, Scott,” Kevin said, “making lots of new friends I see.”
“Kevin.” The officer gave Kevin a polite nod.
“Laura, this is Scott Meadows, one of our finest officers.” Laura smiled and extended her hand.
“Scott, this is Laura Wynn. She’s the investigator the Memorites sent out to help us.” Scott smiled back and shook her hand.
“Anyone causing you any trouble, Scott?” Kevin asked.
“Not at all,” he said looking at the crowd, “They’ve been absolutely perfect little boys and girls.”
“Glad to hear it,” Kevin said, chuckling. He turned and walked toward the spot the body had been.
“Why was the crime scene cleaned if you still have an officer here?” Laura asked.
“It was a compromise. The college President wanted it all gone, we wanted to be able to investigate the scene without it being trampled, so,” Kevin made a sweeping gesture with both hands, “he gets a clean crime scene, and we have to use the photos we took for the up close stuff.”
“I guess that should be enough.” Laura concluded, “I was able to view most of the photos, but I was unable to properly place them in relationship to the location.” She looked at the three taped outline with a puzzled expression. “What’s this for?”
“Oh,...well,” Kevin replied sheepishly, “There were some kids that tried to cause trouble last night. We took them in, and some of the officers did that to help the other kids remember how to behave.”
“Oh,” Laura said, “That would explain the news mentioning four arrests in relation to the crime.”
Kevin, impressed, pointed to her left arm and halfway joking asked, “You get television on that thing, too?”
Laura laughed, “No, not yet, but we’ve been trying to get our design people to work on it.”
Not sure whether she was joking or not Kevin changed the subject. “I’ve looked the scene over pretty good already. Take your time. We’ve got the whole morning.”
“I’ve seen all I need to,” Laura answered.
“Really?” Kevin was caught off guard. He was sure she’d want to look the area over with a fine-toothed comb.
“Oh, yes. The photos provided the details of the crucial area, and the rest is basically laying out the position of everything. I just needed one look to do that. I would like to see the place where the shooter was.”
“Yeah, um...it’s this way,” Kevin said. He gestured to the path around the edge of the wooded area. Laura began, and Kevin hurried ahead to lift the tape for her. They made their way through the scattering of students, eagerly watching these new arrivals, and entered the taped off area on the other side of the woods.
Laura walked straight to the spot. She looked the ground over between the bench, and the grass then stepped into the area where the shooter had crouched. She watched the ground closely to make sure she didn’t spoil any impressions on the ground. She’d already seen the footprint and knee impression that the police department had photographed. It was clear that they hadn’t attempted to preserve the impressions on the ground. They were completely obscured by dozens of other footprints.
She put her hands on her knees and with her feet and legs together, crouched and sighted through the three openings. She then went even lower, almost sitting on the back of her feet, her left hand resting on her knees, her body twisted to the right so she could see the ground more closely. She reached down and lightly touched the ground then looked the immediate area over thoroughly.
She began to stand and almost without thinking Kevin stepped forward and offered his hand. She took it and lifted herself up. She flashed him a quick smile and turned to study the bench.
“One hole in Walser’s story,” Kevin began, “is that there’s no way he couldn’t have heard someone stepping through these leaves and twigs.” Kevin motioned down toward the scattered debris of brogan twigs and dried leaves.
“No,” Laura answered a bit despondently, “there’s a way.”
“How?” Kevin asked.
“If someone were to hold a mental image of the ground and could refer to that image quickly, they could walk through the leaves and twigs and not leave a sound. That someone, would, of course, need to be a Memorite,” Laura said, grudgingly.
“Are you sure? That sounds kinda far-fetched to me.”
“Well, let me show you,” Laura said, and closing her eyes she kicked off her shoes. She walked toward Kevin, right through the leaves and twigs. Her steps were quick and uneven but made not one single sound. When she reached a spot about three feet from Kevin, she stopped and opened her eyes.
“Wow,” Kevin said, unable to think of anything more appropriate.
“I can also see why the shot was to the head,” Laura added.
“Okay, why?”
“The left arm was slightly under the body with the hand under the lower part of the abdomen. That means the arm was back as it swung while Professor Engstrom walked. Had it been forward, as he fell it would have been under his chest or possibly higher.”
Laura turned and walked to the spot where the shooter had been. Kevin noticed that she still didn’t make any sound. In spite of his best efforts, he made plenty as he followed.
Laura continued, “If the first opening was used to establish the Professor’s position with the goal of firing as he passed the second, the students exiting the breezeway messed that up. The second opening then became the one needed to establish position, and it would have shown the shooter the placement of the arm.”
“Okay, wait a second.” Kevin interrupted, “How could the shooter know the position the arm would be in there,” Kevin stabbed at the air in front of him, “by seeing where it was there?” He stabbed at the air again but over to his right.
“Timing,” was Laura’s response.
“That doesn’t make...” Kevin paused, and then said, “Never mind, I keep forgetting we’re talking about a Memorite here. But why would the position of the arm make any difference?”
“Had the arm been blocking the heart, with that caliber of bullet the odds of killing the victim drop significantly. Therefore a head shot would be more reliable.”
“Well, why wouldn’t he have wanted a head-shot all along?”
“Odds and probability. The heart makes the quickest, surest target. People can recover from head wounds.”