The screen said it was Slovak.
“Gurney here.”
“Thanks for picking up.” He sounded excited.
“What’s up?”
“We found the orange Jeep!”
“On Harrow Hill?”
“On Aspern’s side of it. About two-thirds of a mile from his house. In a thicket of pines. You were right about the helicopter problem. The Jeep would have been invisible from the air.”
“Anything of interest in it?”
“Yes, sir! A bloodstained scalpel under the driver’s seat. A bloodstained rag on the floor. Bloodstains on the top of the seat back—where Tate’s hoodie would have rested against it.”
“Any obvious prints?”
“Bloody ones on the steering wheel and the parking-brake handle. The steering wheel ones are smeared, but the ones on the brake handle look good.”
“Sounds like you struck gold, Brad.”
Actually, it seemed like a little too much gold, but he didn’t want to say so. “Is Barstow’s team there?”
“I’m going to call them right now. Wanted to fill you in ASAP.”
“I appreciate that. Have you told Morgan?”
“Yes, sir, but he was on his way to see his wife. He’d gotten a call from the hospice people. I was hoping maybe you could come instead.”
“I can, but I’m at least an hour away.”
“No problem. We’ll be here a lot longer than that. Best way in is through the trail in back of the Mason house. When you get there, call me. I’ll send one of the guys down to get you.”
“Have you notified Aspern?”
“I can’t. I mean, the chief has a standing order that all contacts with the mayor go through him personally.”
“This is different, Brad. This has nothing to do with Aspern’s official role as mayor. This involves a suspect’s vehicle on his property and our need to treat it as a crime scene. The evidence you observed connects it to at least one murder site, making it an extension of that scene. Since it’s on his land, Aspern should be notified. But if he happens to appear at your location, he needs to be kept outside the boundaries you establish, just like any other unauthorized person. You have absolute control of that area.”
The excitement had gone out of Slovak’s voice. “Okay . . . if you think that’s best.”
Once again, Gurney found himself regretting his involvement. If he hadn’t agreed to Morgan’s request for assistance in the first place, the man probably would have been forced to turn the case over the Bureau of Criminal Investigation—with all the state manpower and technical resources to handle it.
Instead, he felt an increasing weight of personal responsibility—combined with an unnerving sense that each new discovery in the case brought with it far more questions than answers.
39
An hour later Gurney was sitting in the Outback next to the trailhead behind the Mason house. After letting Slovak know he was there, he decided to use the time to take another look around the property and, if it was open, the barn where he’d found Linda Mason’s body.
The first thing he noticed was that the acre or so of lawn surrounding the house had been mowed recently—probably that very day, judging from the uniform look of it, and probably by Greg Mason. It would be consistent with his fixation on orderliness—a trait likely to grow stronger when faced with the emotional chaos of murder.
The barn was locked, but the grass and plants around it had been tended to.
When Gurney made his way back to the trailhead, a Ford Explorer was waiting there. Slovak was in the driver’s seat with his window open.
“I thought I should come down for you myself.”
Gurney got in, and Slovak began maneuvering the Explorer up the narrow trail. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said after negotiating a sharp turn. “I left a message for Aspern, like you suggested, saying we found a vehicle on his property that was used in the commission of a crime. I didn’t know how to describe the location, so I gave him the GPS coordinates.”
“Good.”
After weaving their way through the ascending labyrinth of trails, they came to a barrier of yellow police tape. Slovak parked the Explorer next to a big Sequoia SUV. There was a Russell College emblem on the door.
“Is that instead of the usual forensics van?” asked Gurney.
“Barstow was afraid she couldn’t get up here without four-wheel drive.” His tone seemed to question her decision.
He pulled a pair of shoe covers out of a box behind his seat and waited for Gurney to put them on. They got out of the Explorer, slipped under the tape, and followed the trail on foot.
Rounding a curve in the woods, they came upon the orange Jeep. The doors were wide open, and one of Barstow’s helpers was going over the interior with an evidence vac. Barstow was on her phone, but when she saw Gurney she ended the call.
“Lots of prints, lots of blood,” she said.
She began pointing out numerous chemical-stained finger- and handprints—some blue, some purple—on the Jeep’s interior surfaces and the driver’s-side door.
Gurney took a closer look. “Two different reagents?”
“I wasn’t sure with some of the prints whether I was seeing blood or something else. I applied leucocrystal violet on those. Amido black on the others. I like the way it works on nonporous surfaces, and I figured the blue prints it produces would create a better contrast. I like the crisp look of the amido black in photographs. But I used the violet over there.” She pointed to what looked like a sneaker print in the soft earth by the open driver’s door. “I wasn’t sure about that little spot of discoloration. It turned out to be blood.”
“Everything is going to the lab for DNA?”
“Scrapings from all the prints and from the driver’s seat and headrest, plus the rag and scalpel we found on the vehicle floor. Like you said yesterday, Tate isn’t shy about letting us know where he’s been. Be nice if he’d let us know where he is now.”
“Speaking of that,” said Gurney, half turning to include Slovak, “have either of you considered bringing in a K9 team?”
“Not me,” said Barstow. “Chasing and capturing is Brad’s department.” The hint of mischief in her tone turned the fact into a challenge.
Slovak had a deer-in-the-headlights moment. “A K9 team . . . to track Tate? Can we still do that? The Jeep’s been here for a while now, right? And we’ve had rain.”
Gurney turned to Barstow. “Can you tell from the tire tracks how long it’s been here?”
“I’ve tried to figure that out. I think the Jeep arrived, was here for maybe a day or so, then left and returned. I don’t think it’s been moved for the last couple of days.”
“Can you tell from which direction it arrived? Or which way it left?”
She shook her head. “The only reason I can say anything at all is that the spot he chose has relatively soft soil.”
Gurney turned to Slovak. “You’re right about there having been rain, but it wasn’t very heavy. The scent may still be followable. It’s worth a shot.”
“I don’t think we’ve ever brought in a K9 team.”
“All you need to do is get in touch with the NYSP regional barracks and tell them you need K9 assistance in tracking a fugitive.”
Slovak’s frown deepened. “The thing is, the chief’s dead set against involving the state police.”
“What he’s dead set against is turning case jurisdiction over to BCI. This is different. The K9 unit just provides tactical support. There’s no question of them taking over the case. If you call now, they may be able to have a team here tomorrow morning.”