Body Double

Maura stared at the wall, the image of what she’d seen there still burned in her memory. “That was arterial spray,” she said softly. “This is the room where it happened. This is where they died.”

“But you saw blood in the cellar as well,” said Rizzoli.

“On the steps.”

“Okay. So we know at least one victim is killed in this room, since there’s arterial spray on that wall there.” Rizzoli paced across the kitchen, unruly curls hiding her eyes as she focused on the floor. She stopped. “How do we know there aren’t other victims? How do we know this blood is from the Sadlers?”

“We don’t.”

Rizzoli crossed to the cellar and opened the door. There she stood for a moment, gazing down the dark stairway. She turned and looked at Maura. “That cellar has a dirt floor.”

A moment passed in silence.

Gary said, “We have GPR gear in the van. We used it two days ago, on a farm out in Machias.”

“Bring it into the house,” said Rizzoli. “Let’s take a look at what’s under that dirt.”

TWENTY-TWO

GPR, OR GROUND-PENETRATING RADAR, uses electromagnetic waves to probe beneath the ground’s surface. The SIR System-2 machine that the techs unloaded from the van had two ante

“With all this rain,” said Pete, unrolling electrical cable, “the soil’s going to be pretty damp.”

“Does that make a difference?” asked Maura.

“GPR response varies depending on the subsurface water content. You need to adjust the EM frequency to account for it.”

“Two hundred megahertz?” asked Gary.

“It’s where I’d start. You don’t want to go any higher, or we’ll get too much detail.” Pete co

“What do the trees have to do with it?” Rizzoli asked.

“This house is built on a wood lot. There’s probably a number of cavities under here, left over from decayed roots. That’s going to confuse the picture.”

Gary said, “Help me get on this backpack.”

“How’s that? You need to adjust the straps?”

“No, they feel fine.” Gary took a breath and looked around the cellar. “I’ll start at that end.”

As Gary moved the GPR across the earthen floor, the subsurface profile appeared on the laptop screen in undulating stripes. Maura’s medical training had made her familiar with ultrasounds and CT scans of the human body, but she had no idea how to interpret these ripples on the screen.

“What are you seeing?” she asked Gary.

“These dark areas here are positive radar echoes. Negative echoes show up as white. We’re looking for anything anomalous. A hyperbolic reflection, for example.”

“What’s that?” said Rizzoli.

“It’ll look like a bulge, pushing up these various layers. Caused by something buried underground, scattering the radar waves in all directions.” He stopped, studying the screen. “Okay, here, see this? We’ve got something about three meters deep that’s giving off a hyperbolic reflection.”

“What do you think?” asked Yates.

“Could be just a tree root. Let’s mark it and keep going.”

Pete tapped a stake into the ground to mark the spot.

Gary moved on, following the grid lines back and forth, as radar echoes rippled across the laptop screen. Every so often he’d stop, call out for another stake to be planted, marking another spot they would recheck on the second walk-through. He had turned and was coming back along the middle of the grid when he suddenly halted.

“Now this is interesting,” he said.

“What do you see?” asked Yates.

“Hold on. Let me try this section again.” Gary backed up, moving the GPR across the section he had just probed. Inched forward again, his gaze fixed on the laptop. Again he stopped. “We’ve got a major anomaly here.”

Yates moved in close. “Show me.”

“It’s less than a meter’s depth. A big pocket right here. See it?” Gary pointed to the screen, where a bulge distorted the radar echoes. Staring down at the ground, he said: “There’s something right here. And it’s not very deep.” He looked at Yates. “What do you want to do?”

“You got shovels in the van?”

“Yeah, we’ve got one. Plus a couple of trowels.”

Yates nodded. “Okay. Let’s bring them down here. And we’re going to need some more lights.”

“There’s another flood lamp in the van. Plus more extension cords.”

Corso started up the stairs. “I’ll get them.”

“I’ll help,” said Maura, and she followed him up the steps to the kitchen.

Outside, the heavy rain had lightened to a drizzle. They rooted through the CSU van, found the spade and extra lighting gear, which Corso carried into the house. Maura closed the van door and was about to follow him with the box of excavation hand tools when she saw headlights glimmering through the trees. She stood in the driveway, watching as a familiar pickup truck came down the road and pulled up next to the van.

Miss Clausen stepped out, an oversize slicker dragging behind her like a cape. “Thought you’d be finished by now. I was wondering why you didn’t bring back my key.”

“We’re going to be here for a while.”

Miss Clausen eyed the vehicles in the driveway. “I thought you just wanted to take another look around. What’s the crime lab doing here?”

“This is going to take us a little longer than I thought. We may be here all night.”

“Why? Your sister’s clothes aren’t even here anymore. I boxed ’em up for you so you can take them home.”

“This isn’t just about my sister, Miss Clausen. The police are here about something else. Something that happened a long time ago.”

“How long ago?”

“It would have been about forty-five years ago. Before you even bought the house.”

“Forty-five years? That’d be back when…” The woman paused.

“When what?”

Miss Clausen’s gaze suddenly fell on the box of excavation tools that Maura was holding. “What are the trowels for? What are you doing in my house?”

“The police are searching the cellar.”

“Searching? You mean they’re digging down there?”

“They may have to.”

“I didn’t give you permission to do that.” She turned and thumped up the porch, her slicker dragging behind her on the steps.

Maura followed her inside, trailing after her into the kitchen. She set the box of tools on the counter. “Wait. You don’t understand-”

“I don’t want anyone tearing up my cellar!” Miss Clausen yanked open the cellar door and glared down at Detective Yates, who was holding a shovel. Already he had dug into the earthen floor, and a mound of dirt was piled up near his feet.

“Miss Clausen, let them do their jobs,” said Maura.

“I own this house,” the woman yelled down the steps. “You can’t dig down there unless I give my permission!”

“Ma’am, we promise we’ll fill in the hole when we’re done,” said Corso. “We’re just going to take a little look here.”

“Why?”

“Our radar shows a major bounce-back.”

“What do mean, bounce-back? What’s down there?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out. If you’d just let us continue.”

Maura tugged the woman away from the cellar and closed the door. “Please let them work. If you refuse, they’ll just be forced to get a warrant.”

“What the hell got them digging down there in the first place?”

“Blood.”

“What blood?”

“There’s blood all over this kitchen.”

The woman’s gaze dropped to the floor, sca