Read Online Known Dead by Donald Harstad - Free Book Online Page A

stuff?’’
    ‘‘Yep.’’
    By 2200 hours, what we had was this: We had a dead DNE officer, killed by gunfire. A dead doper, also killed by gunfire. An officer witness, who hadn’t actually seen anybody but the two dead people, but who had heard at least one and most likely two shooters. He’d never actually seen either of the two victims shot. Two possible suspects, who were linked to the shootings only by their association with the dead doper, and with no evidence of their actual presence at the murder scene. A preliminary report from the lab crew at the scene which indicated that the only footprints available were going to be those from the trail area, as the grass was simply too thick to let a footprint be made elsewhere. We also had sixty-seven empty shell casings. That’s right, sixty-seven. All rifle ammunition, either 5.56 mm or 7.62 mm. Turd’s shotgun had been a pump-action model, and he had fired only one round, and apparently he hadn’t either the time or the presence of mind to jack a second round into the chamber. Moreover, his shells had been 6½ shot. Both too small and possessing too little energy at the involved ranges to enable him to shoot through an officer’s vest and seriously injure him, let alone kill him. And, in the person of Dr. Peters, who was sitting at the kitchen table with us, the preliminary autopsy reports. The pathology laboratory details were going to take a bit of time, but the preliminary was what we were after. It didn’t clear anything up. And maybe complicated things for us, instead.
    Dr. Peters put down his coffee cup. ‘‘Pretty good.’’ He spread his hands. ‘‘Let’s do the civilian first?’’
    ‘‘Fine,’’ I said. Lamar, Hester, DNE Agent Dahl, a man named Frank who was doing the photos for the lab, and I were all present. Dahl, Lamar, and this Frank had been at the autopsies, along with two DCI General Crim. agents.
    ‘‘Right,’’ said Peters. ‘‘Well, we have a nearly emaciated white male who was struck at least six times by high-velocity rifle rounds. I say ‘at least’ because there is a possibility that there could have been a second round into the head. Not a strong one, but a chance. However, all six or seven rounds appear to have exited the body. Just small metallic fragments on the X-rays. Lots of nearly vaporized bone fragments. Massive damage.’’
    He took another sip of coffee. ‘‘I’ve seen the patterns of automatic weapons fire before, and that’s what this reminds me of. It looks to me like the first round entered just below the navel, through and through, with the subsequent rounds . . . one more in the upper abdomen, one in the lower chest, one in the upper chest, one at the base of the neck, and one in the head.’’ He smiled apologetically. ‘‘Or, possibly, two.’’ He leaned back in his folding chair. ‘‘The body was beginning to move, but since this was, I feel, full auto fire, there wasn’t any time for movement to be pronounced. A fairly modern military weapon, with a high rate of fire.’’
    ‘‘Any thoughts on caliber?’’ asked Hester.
    ‘‘Well, from the casings, it’s got to be either 7.62 or 5.56 mm. But with no projectiles remaining in the body, it’s extremely hard to tell. The small fragments appeared to be metallic jacketing material. Until we hear from the lab, I’ll just go with a rifle. But if I had to wager, I’d say 5.56 mm. One of the jacketing fragments appears to have been from the base of the round, or at least partially. Pretty small, as far as can be determined.’’ He took another sip of his coffee. ‘‘The important thing, I think, that we can tell from his wounds is that the rifle was fired from close range. I’d think, to keep five rounds that close as it rises, possibly ten, fifteen feet. No more than that.’’
    ‘‘Wow.’’
    ‘‘Yes. And, that’s consistent with the visibility at the scene. Plus,’’ he said, ‘‘that would explain the civilian’s