On Harrow Hill

“We found traces of Tate’s blood on the inside wall of the storage unit, which would have occurred naturally as he climbed out of the casket. We found his handprints on the inside of the storage unit door and on the small emergency handle. We found sneaker prints on the floor of the unit that match the sneakers on Tate’s feet in the video segment showing him on the mortuary trolley. Following his likely path, we found his fingerprints at several locations in the room—in the glass cabinet that was broken into, by the symbol scratched on the wall, on the edge of the embalming table, on the window sash in the adjoining equipment room, on the wall of the hallway leading to the back door, and on the doorknob.”

Morgan looked impressed. “Thank you, Kyra. Very credible reconstruction.” He sent another approval-seeking glance in Gurney’s direction before he continued. “There’s no doubt that Tate survived. So now we’re looking for him as a murder suspect, not a stolen corpse. You agree, Dave?”

Gurney was silent for a moment. “I’m having a hard time reconciling the trauma of the lightning impact and the fall with his forcing his way out of the casket and walking away.”

Morgan nodded nervously. “I know what you mean. But this scenario explains evidence that otherwise makes no sense.” He paused. “Brad, anything yet from computer forensics?”

“They said they’d get back to us later this morning.” He turned to Gurney. “Even though the recording function on Peale’s computer was turned off, the camera data was still being transmitted to it. I got the computer last night from Peale. It’s a long shot, but I thought a digital remnant of the data might have been retained, and maybe they could do something with it.”

“Definitely worth checking on.”

“I figured if we had video, it would end any doubt about what happened. Seeing beats reconstructing.”

Barstow’s eyes narrowed. She seemed on the verge of responding to the apparent devaluing of her presentation when Slovak’s phone rang.

He peered at the screen. “I better take this.”

The growing alarm in his terse questions and exclamations during the call held everyone’s attention. When he put down his phone, he sat for a moment in a kind of adrenaline-jazzed distress before speaking.

“One of the guys doing door-to-doors found another body. A woman. In a drainage swale on Waterview Drive, by the turnoff for Harrow Hill. He figures she’s been dead for a couple of days. Her throat was cut.”

After Morgan sent Slovak and Barstow to the new crime scene—with instructions to report back ASAP—he slumped back in his chair. “Christ. What the hell is going on?”

Gurney shrugged. “On his way to or from the Russell house on the night of Angus’s murder, Tate may have encountered the victim and saw her as a problem to be eliminated. We’ll know more when we get an ID and a more precise time-of-death estimate. Will Slovak contact the medical examiner?”

“That’s the procedure.”

“He’s the one who pronounced Tate dead. When do you plan to bring him up to date?”

“God, so much has been happening so fast—”

“Sir?” An obese gray-haired officer was standing at the conference room door.

“What?” Morgan’s voice was strained.

“Someone here to see you. From that computer group at the college.”

“Computer forensics.” The precisely articulated correction came from behind the officer. A slim young man with a fashionable three-day beard stepped into view. He was wearing pencil jeans and a tightly fitted white shirt. “Brad Slovak asked me to give this information directly to you.”

The officer departed and the young man entered. “I’m Ronan Ives. I’ve been working on the Peale computer matter. Shall I explain our findings?”

“Go ahead.”

“So, we began by double-checking to make sure that the camera output wasn’t being encoded somewhere in computer memory, despite the record option being deselected. There was no trace. Next step was to analyze the specs for the software controlling the behavior of the system. That’s where we made an interesting discovery. The camera output that’s transmitted to the laptop can be recorded on that device, or not, simply by clicking on the preferred option in a clearly displayed box. However . . .”

He smiled, obviously pleased with what he was about to reveal.

“There’s a secondary system that’s always on, unless it’s actively deselected through a process buried in a series of technical menus. That automatic secondary system transmits the camera data to a cloud-based storage field, where it’s retained for seven days. It’s a safeguard—in case the user’s own computer fails to record the data due to an oversight or hardware glitch. Bottom line, the camera data for your period of interest is retrievable.”

Morgan’s eyes widened. “Have you seen it?”

“No. It’s password-protected.”

“So how do we get access?”

“Get permission from the licensed user, along with his registered ID and password. Otherwise, you’ll need a warrant.”