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“I’m more interested in the walls,” said Maura. “Smears, spatter patterns.” She pointed to the block of granite with the iron ring. “Let’s start with that wall.”
“We’ll need a baseline photo first. Let me set up the tripod. Detective Corso, can you mount the ruler up on that wall right there? It’s luminescent. It’ll give us a frame of reference.”
Maura looked at Rizzoli. “You should go upstairs, Jane. They’re going to start mixing the Luminol. I don’t think you should be exposed to it.”
“I didn’t think it was that toxic.”
“Still, you shouldn’t take the chance. Not with the baby.”
Rizzoli sighed. “Yeah, okay.” Slowly she headed up the steps. “But I hate missing a light show.” The cellar door swung shut behind her.
“Man, shouldn’t she be on maternity leave already?” Yates said.
“She has another six weeks to go,” said Maura.
One of the techs laughed. “Like that woman cop in Fargo, huh? How do you chase down a perp when you’re that knocked up?”
Through the closed cellar door, Rizzoli yelled: “Hey, I may be knocked up, but I’m not deaf!”
“She’s also armed,” said Maura.
Detective Corso said, “Can we get started here?”
“There are masks and goggles in that box,” said Pete. “You all might want to pass those around.”
Corso handed a respirator and a pair of goggles to Maura. She slipped them on and watched as Gary began measuring chemicals.
“We’re going with a Weber prep,” he said. “It’s a little more sensitive, and I think it’s safer to use. This stuff is irritating enough on the skin and eyes.”
“Are those stock solutions you’re mixing?” asked Maura, her voice muffled through the mask.
“Yeah, we keep ’em stored in the lab refrigerator. Mix all three together in the field, along with distilled water.” He capped the jar and gave it a vigorous shake. “Anyone here wear contact lenses?”
“I do,” said Yates.
“Then you might want to step out, Detective. You’re go
“No, I wa
“Then stay back when we start spraying.” He gave the bottle one more swirl, then decanted the contents into a spray bottle. “Okay, we’re ready to rock. Let me snap a photo first. Detective, can you move away from that wall?”
Corso stepped to the side and Pete pressed the shutter release cable. The flash went off as the camera captured a baseline image of the wall they were about to spray with Luminol.
“You want the lights off now?” said Maura.
“Let Gary get in position first. Once it’s dark, we’re go
Gary crossed to the wall and held up the spray bottle containing Luminol. With his goggles and mask, he looked like a pest exterminator, about to squirt some offending roach.
“Hit the lights, Dr. Isles.”
Maura reached out to the flood lamp beside her and switched it off, plunging the cellar into pitch blackness.
“Go ahead, Gary.”
They could hear the hiss of the spray bottle. Flecks of greenish-blue suddenly glowed in the darkness, like stars in the night sky. Now a ghostly circle appeared, seeming to float in the darkness, unattached. The iron ring.
“It may not be blood at all,” said Pete. “Luminol reacts with a lot of things. Rust, metals. Bleach solutions. That iron ring would probably glow anyway, whether there’s blood on it or not. Gary, can you move aside while I get this shot? This is going to be a forty-second exposure, so just stand tight.” When the shutter finally clicked, he said: “Lights, Dr. Isles.”
Maura fumbled in the darkness for the flood lamp switch. When the light came on, she was staring at the stone wall.
“What do you think?” asked Corso.
Pete shrugged. “Not too impressive. There’s going to be a lot of false positives down here. You’ve got soil staining all those rocks. We’ll try the other walls, but unless you see a handprint or a major splatter, it’s not going to be easy to pick up blood against this background.”
Maura noticed Corso glancing at his watch. It had been a long drive for both Maine state detectives, and she could see he was starting to wonder if this was a waste of time.
“Let’s keep going,” she said.
Pete moved the tripod and positioned his camera lens to focus on the next wall. He clicked off a flash photo, then said, “Lights.”
Again, the room went pitch black.
The spray bottle hissed. More blue-green flecks magically appeared like fireflies twinkling in the darkness as the Luminol reacted with oxidized metals in the stone, producing pinpoints of luminescence. Gary sprayed a fresh arc across the wall, and a new swath of stars appeared, eclipsed by his shadowy outline as he moved past. There was a loud thump, and the silhouette suddenly lurched forward.
“Shit.”
“You okay, Gary?” said Yates.
“Hit my shin against something. The stairs, I think. Can’t see a goddamn thing in this…” He stopped. Then murmured: “Hey, guys. Look at this.”
As he moved aside, a patch of blue-green floated into view, like a ghostly pool of ectoplasm.
“What the hell is that?” said Corso.
“Light!” called Pete.
Maura turned on the lamp. The blue-green pool vanished. In its place she saw only the wooden staircase leading up to the kitchen.
“It was on that step there,” said Gary. “When I tripped, it caught some of the spray.”
“Let me reposition this camera. Then I want you to move up to the top of those stairs. Think you can feel your way down if we turn off the lights?”
“I don’t know. If I go slowly enough-”
“Spray the steps as you come down.”
“No. No, I think I’m go
“Whatever you’re comfortable with.” The camera flash went off. “Okay, Gary. I’ve got my baseline. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Yeah. You can hit the light, Doc.”
Maura turned off the lamp.
Once again, they heard the hiss of the spray bottle dispersing its fine mist of Luminol. Near the ground, a splash of blue-green appeared, then above it another splash, like ghostly pools of water. They could hear Gary’s heavy breathing through his mask, and the creak of the steps as he backed up the stairs, spraying the whole time. Step after step lit up, forming an intensely luminous cascade.
A waterfall of blood.
There was nothing else that this could be, she thought. It was smeared across every step, trickles of it streaking down the sides of the staircase.
“Jesus,” murmured Gary. “It’s even brighter up here, on the top step. Looks like it came from the kitchen. Seeped under the door and dripped down the stairs.”
“Everyone stay right where you are. I’m taking the shot. Forty-five seconds.”
“It might be dark enough outside now,” said Corso. “We can start on the rest of the house.”
Rizzoli was waiting for them in the kitchen as they came up the stairs, hauling their equipment. “Sounds like it was quite a light show,” she said.
“I think we’re about to see even more,” said Maura.
“Where do you want to start spraying now?” Pete asked Corso.
“Right here. The floor nearest the cellar door.”
This time, Rizzoli did not leave the room when the lights went off. She backed off and watched from a distance as the mist of Luminol was sprayed across the floor. A geometric pattern suddenly glowed at their feet, a blue-green checkerboard of old blood trapped in the linoleum’s repeating pattern. The checkerboard grew like blue fire spreading across a landscape. Now it streaked up one vertical surface, into broad swipes and smears, into arcs of bright droplets.
“Turn on the lights,” said Yates, and Corso flipped the switch.
The smears vanished. They stared at the kitchen wall, which no longer glowed blue. At worn linoleum with its repeating pattern of black and white squares. They saw no horror here, just a room with yellowed flooring and tired appliances. Yet everywhere they had looked, only a moment ago, they had seen blood screaming at them.