“Can you throw up some crime scene tape around that area for me?” Tower asked.
Stone nodded. “How big an area you want roped off?”
Tower thought about it, then answered. “Make it about twenty by twenty. Center on the break in the bushes by the trail.”
“Okay. Outer perimeter?”
Tower waved his hand around the park. “Take the whole park. You don’t have to run tape, though. Not unless you get serious foot traffic. Just keep people out of the park.”
“I’ll call another unit,” Stone said.
Tower nodded his thanks and made his way to his car. Once en route to Deaconess Hospital, he plugged his department issued cellular phone into the cigarette lighter and called Forensics.
Diane answered on the second ring. “CSFU, Diane.”
“Diane, it’s John Tower. I need you to process a rape scene.”
“Address?”
Tower told her where the park was and described the crime scene area. “I don’t know if you’ll find any evidence or not, but at least get some good photographs.”
“I will.”
“I’m on my way to the hospital now,” Tower said. “I’ll let you know if I need anything besides the scene processed.”
“I’ll call if we get anything,” Diane said.
“Thanks,” Tower replied and broke the connection.
As he drove, large drops of rain began plopping intermittently onto his windshield. After a few moments, the plops became a steady pour of heavy drops slapping against the glass.
“Goddamnit,” he muttered. Rain wreaked havoc with any outdoor crime scenes. He sincerely doubted that CSFU would get anything out of their search now.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to stop worrying about the crime scene that he could do nothing about. Instead, he considered the rape itself. Stone had asked if he thought the victim might be lying, but even without meeting her, he doubted it. A daylight, stranger-to-stranger attack was bold. It wasn’t an opportunity rape or a rejection rape. Something like this had to be carefully planned.
That worried him.
Tower pulled into the hospital parking lot. He’d been to Deaconess more times than he could count and almost felt like he should have his own parking spot. He settled for the emergency vehicle slot next to a marked patrol car that he imagined belonged to Gio.
The white-shirted security guard at the emergency room entrance did not know him and started to ask him to step through the metal detector. Tower showed his badge and was waved through. He wondered briefly what the guard would do if a bad guy came to the hospital with a gun and refused to step through the metal detector. After all, the guard himself was not armed.
He recognized Roberta, the grey-haired, pudgy admissions nurse who pretended to be grumpy at everyone. He’d known her since he first came on the job, back when both of them worked nights. Now, years later, they were both working day tours. Circle of life, he figured.
He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back, but instead pointed to number three.
“Is the officer in there?”
“No. He’s in our break room.” Her tone of voice suggested that in her opinion, Gio was trespassing there. Tower was surprised that Giovanni’s legendary charm hadn’t softened her up.
“Thanks, Bertie,” Tower said, smiling again. “Did you lose some weight?”
She gave him a flat gaze. “Hardly,” she answered. He noticed the corner of her mouth twitch upward before she caught herself.
Almost got ya, Tower thought to himself.
Officer Giovanni was sipping coffee from a small Styrofoam cup and staring down at his report when Tower entered. He greeted the detective.
“Anything at the scene?” Gio asked.
Tower shook his head. “Can you give me a thumbnail sketch of her account? I’ll read your report later.”
Gio nodded. He took another sip of his coffee and set down his pen. “It’s pretty straightforward. Basically, she was jogging southbound through Clemons Park when a male attacked her. He blindsided her and knocked her down. Then he put a towel or something over her face and pulled her a little ways off the trail. He raped her vaginally, turned her onto her stomach, removed the towel and left.”
“Any suspect description?”
“She never saw his face.”
Tower cursed. Gio sipped his coffee.
“Did he say anything to her?” Tower asked.
“Uh, yeah. I wrote it down. Called her a bitch and threatened her. I’ve got the exact quote in my notes.”
“Did he ejaculate?”
“She thinks so.”
“Did the doctor find any semen or anything?”
Gio shook his head. “No. She told him that the last sexual encounter with her husband had been two weeks ago. Doc said there was trauma and small tears but no fluids.”
“She a Forty-eight?” Tower asked, using the code for a mentally unstable person.
“No, not at all. Nice lady. Just shaken up.”
“Understandable. Anything else?”
“She did say that once he had her pinned, there was a few seconds where he paused and she heard some paper ripping.”
“Paper?”
Gio nodded. “I’m thinking maybe he gloved up.”
“A rapist that uses a condom?” Tower asked, skeptical.
Gio shrugged. “Safety first.”
Tower scratched his head. “Or he didn’t want to leave any evidence.”
“Could be,” Gio agreed. “Maybe he didn’t want to pull an O.J.”
Tower considered. With DNA technology making leaps and bounds, identifying someone from their semen was a distinct probability. Thanks to the O.J. Simpson trial, pretty much everyone was aware of that. The use of a condom was the obvious preventative. It also indicated greater preparation and planning.
Tower cursed under his breath. Then he said, “She’s in number three, right?”
Gio nodded.
“You can take off,” Tower told him, “if you’re done.”
“Nah. I promised to take her home afterwards. Her husband couldn’t be reached.”
Tower thought about offering to drive the woman home so Gio could leave, but supposed that the officer had established a good rapport with her. It was best not to shuffle the victim around from person to person. “Does she have an advocate with her?”
“No, she wanted a friend instead. Her name’s Sally. She’s been helpful.”
“Good. You want to introduce us, then?”
“Happy to.” Gio rose and led him toward room number three.
On the way, Tower asked, “Clemons Park is the name of that little park there, huh?”
“Yeah. I had to look it up myself,” Gio said. He stopped at the door and knocked softly. Someone said “come in,” so he opened the door and entered.
Patricia Reno sat on the bed, crying softly. Another woman stood at her bedside, consoling her.
“Patricia?” Gio asked. “Are you ready to talk to the detective? Because if you want to wait-”
Patricia Reno nodded, wiping at her eyes. “No, I’m ready. I’m sorry. I was fine until Sally got here.”
“No need to be sorry,” Gio said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He pointed at Tower. “This is Detective John Tower. He might have a few questions for you. John, this is Patricia Reno. The other woman is her friend, Sally.”
Tower nodded at Sally and stepped up next to Patricia. “Mrs. Reno, I really don’t have too many questions for you right now. I’ll read the officer’s report and be in contact with you after that. Probably in a couple of days. But I have been to the scene already.”
He described the small opening and she nodded emphatically. “Yes, that’s it. That is exactly where it happened.”
Tower nodded. “I searched the area. Unfortunately, there was no physical evidence there that I could see. Our forensics unit will photograph it and search it again.” Tower leaned forward slightly. “Ma’am, would you recognize the man’s voice if you heard it again?”
Patricia’s eyes widened. She nodded slowly. “Oh, yes. I’ll never forget that voice.”
“Good.” Tower knew they would never get a conviction off a voice identification, but every little bit helped. “That’s really all for now, Ma’am. I wanted to meet you and let you know who I am. This way, when I call you in a day or two, you can put a face with a name.”