cpatricia.unnaturalexposure-第12部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


。
　'I'm　a　middle…aged　woman　set　in　her　ways；'　I　said　as　my　voice　shook。　'I　can't　help　it。　All　I　have　is　what　I've　built。　No　children。　I　can't　stand　my　only　sister　and　she　can't　stand　me。　My　father　was　in　bed　dying　my　entire　childhood；　then　gone　when　I　was　twelve。　Mother's　impossible；　and　now　she's　dying　of　emphysema。　I　can't　be　what　you　want；　the　good　wife。　I　don't　even　know　what　the　hell　that　is。　I　only　know　how　to　be　Kay。　And　going　to　a　psychiatrist　isn't　going　to　change　a　goddamn　thing。'
　He　said　to　me；　'And　I'm　in　love　with　you　and　want　to　marry　you。　And　I　can't　seem　to　help　that；　either。'
　I　did　not　reply。
　He　added；　'And　I　thought　you　were　in　love　with　me。'
　Still；　I　could　not　speak。
　'At　least　you　used　to　be；'　he　went　on　as　pain　overwhelmed　his　voice。　'I'm　leaving。'
　He　started　to　get　up　again；　and　I　put　my　hand　on　his　arm。
　'Not　like　this。'　I　looked　at　him。　'Don't　do　this　to　me。'
　'To　you？'　He　was　incredulous。
　I　dimmed　the　lights　until　they　were　almost　out；　and　the　moon　was　a　polished　coin　against　a　clear　black　sky　scattered　with　stars。　I　got　more　wine　and　started　the　fire；　while　he　watched　everything　I　did。
　'Sit　closer　to　me；'　I　said。
　He　did；　and　I　took　his　hands　this　time。
　'Benton；　patience。　Don't　rush　me；'　I　said。　'Please。　I'm　not　like　Connie。　Like　other　people。'
　'I'm　not　asking　you　to　be；'　he　said。　'I　don't　want　you　to　be。　I'm　not　like　other　people；　either。　We　know　what　we　see。　Other　people　couldn't　possibly　understand。　I　could　never　talk　to　Connie　about　how　I　spend　my　days。　But　I　can　talk　to　you。'
　He　kissed　me　sweetly；　and　we　went　deeper；　touching　faces；　tongues　and　nimbly　undressing；　doing　what　we　once　did　best。　He　gathered　me　in　his　mouth　and　hands；　and　we　stayed　on　the　couch　until　early　morning；　as　light　from　the　moon　turned　chilled　and　thin。　After　he　drove　home；　I　carried　wine　throughout　my　house；　pacing；　wandering　with　music　on　and　flowing　out　speakers　in　every　room。　I　landed　in　my　office；　where　I　was　a　master　at　distraction。
　I　began　going　through　journals；　tearing　out　articles　that　needed　to　be　filed。　I　began　working　on　an　article　I　was　due　to　write。　But　I　was　not　in　the　mood　for　any　of　it；　and　decided　to　check　my　e…mail　to　see　if　Lucy　had　left　word　about　when　she　might　make　it　to　Richmond。　AOL　announced　I　had　mail　waiting；　and　when　I　checked　my　box　I　felt　as　if　someone　had　struck　me。　The　address　deadoc　awaited　me　like　an　evil　stranger。
　His　message　was　in　lowercase；　with　no　punctuation　except　spaces。　It　said；　you　think　you　re　so　smart。　I　opened　the　attached　file　and　once　again　watched　color　images　paint　down　my　screen；　severed　feet　and　hands　lined　up　on　a　table　covered　with　what　appeared　to　be　the　same　bluish　cloth。　For　a　while　I　stared；　wondering　why　this　person　was　doing　this　to　me。　I　hoped　he　had　just　made　a　very　big　mistake　as　I　grabbed　the　phone。
　'Marino！'　I　exclaimed　when　I　got　him　on　the　line。
　'Huh？　What　happened？'　he　blurted　as　he　came　to。
　I　told　him。
　'Shit。　It's　three　friggin'　o'clock　in　the　morning。　Don't　you　ever　sleep？'
　He　seemed　pleased；　and　I　suspected　he　figured　I　wouldn't　have　called　him　if　Wesley　had　still　been　here。
　'Are　you　okay？'　he　then　asked。
　'Listen。　The　hands　are　palm　up；'　I　said。　'The　photograph　was　taken　at　close　range。　I　can　see　a　lot　of　detail。'
　'Like　what　kind　of　detail？　Is　there　a　tattoo　or　something？'
　'　Ridge　detail；'　I　said。
　
　Neils　Vander　was　the　section　chief　of　fingerprint　examination；　an　older　man　with　wispy　hair　and　voluminous　lab　coats　perpetually　stained　purple　and　black　with　ninhydrin　and　dusting　powder。　Forever　in　a　hurry　and　prepossessed；　he　was　from　genteel　Virginia　stock。　Vander　had　never　called　me　by　my　first　name　or　referred　to　anything　personal　about　me　in　all　the　years　I　had　known　him。　But　he　had　his　way　of　showing　he　cared。　Sometimes　it　was　a　doughnut　on　my　desk　in　the　morning　or；　in　the　summer；　Hanover　tomatoes　from　his　garden。
　Known　for　an　eagle　eye　that　could　match　loops　and　whorls　at　a　glance；　he　was　also　the　resident　expert　in　image　enhancement　and；　in　fact；　had　been　trained　by　NASA。　Over　the　years；　he　and　I　had　materialized　a　multitude　of　faces　from　photographic　blurs。　We　had　conjured　up　writing　that　wasn't　there；　read　impressions　and　restored　eradications；　the　concept　really　very　simple　even　if　the　execution　of　it　was　not。
　A　high…resolution　image　processing　system　could　see　two　hundred　and　fifty…six　shades　of　gray；　while　the　human　eye　could　differentiate；　at　the　most；　thirty…two。　Therefore；　it　was　possible　to　scan　something　into　the　puter　and　let　it　see　what　we　could　not。　Deadoc　may　have　sent　me　more　than　he　bargained　for。　The　first　task　this　morning　was　to　pare　a　morgue　photograph　of　the　torso　with　the　one　sent　to　me　through　AOL。
　'Let　me　get　a　little　more　gray　over　here。'　Vander　said　as　he　worked　puter　keys。　'And　I'm　going　to　tilt　this　some。'
　'That's　better；'　I　agreed。
　We　were　sitting　side　by　side；　both　of　us　leaning　into　the　nineteen…inch　monitor。　Nearby；　both　photographs　were　on　the　scanner；　a　video　camera　feeding　their　images　to　us　live。
　'A　little　more　of　that。'　Another　shade　of　gray　washed　over　the　screen。　'Let　me　bump　this　a　tad　more。'
　He　reached　over　to　the　scanner　and　repositioned　one　of　the　photographs。　He　put　another　filter　over　the　camera　lens。
　'I　don't　know；'　I　said　as　I　stared。　'I　think　it　was　easier　to　see　before。　Maybe　you　need　to　move　it　a　little　more　to　the　right；'　I　added；　as　if　we　were　hanging　pictures。
　'Better。　But　there's　still　a　lot　of　background　interference　I'　d　like　to　get　rid　of。'
　'I　wish　we　had　the　original。　What's　the　radiometric　resolution　of　this　thing？'　I　asked；　referring　to　the　system's　capability　of　differentiating　shades　of　gray。
　'A　whole　lot　better　than　it　used　to　be。　Since　the　early　days；　I　guess　we've　doubled　the　number　of　pixels　that　can　be　digitalized。'
　Pixels；　like　the　dots　in　dot　matrix；　were　the　smallest　elements　of　an　image　being　viewed；　the　molecules；　the　impressionistic　points　of　color　forming　a　painting。
　'We　got　some　grants；　you　know。　One　of　these　days；　I　want　to　move　us　into　ultraviolet　imaging。　I　can't　even　tell　you　what　I　could　do　with　cyanoacrylate；'　he　went　on　about　Super　Glue；　which　reacted　to　ponents　in　human　perspiration　and　was　excellent　for　developing　fingerprints　difficult　to　see　with　the　unaided　eye。
　'Well；　good　luck；'　I　said；　because　money　was　always　tight　no　matter　who　was　in　office。
　Repositioning　the　photograph　again；　he　placed　a　blue　filter　over　the　camera　lens；　and　dilated　the　lighter　pixel　elements；　brightening　the　image。　He　enhanced　horizontal　details；　removing　vertical　ones。　Two　torsos　were　now　side　by　side。　Shadows　appeared；　gruesome　details　sharper　and　in　contrast。
　'You　can　see　the　bony　ends。'　I　pointed。　'Left　leg　severed　just　proximal　to　the　lesser　trochanter。　Right　leg'　　I　moved　my　finger　on　the　screen　　'about　an　inch　lower；　right　through　the　shaft。'
　'I　wish　I　could　correct　the　camera　angle；　the　perspective　distortion；'　he　muttered；　talking　to　himself；　which　he　often　did。　'But　I　don't　know　the　measurements　of　anything。　Too　bad　whoever　took　this　didn't　include　a　nice　little　ruler　as　a　scale。'
　'Then　I　would　really　worry　about　who　we　were　dealing　with；'　I　mented。
　'That's　all　we　need。　A　killer　who's　like　us。'　He　defined　the　edges；　and　readjusted　the　positions　of　the　photographs　one　more　time。　'Let's　see　what　happens　if　I　superimpose　them。'
　He　did；　and　the　overlay　was　amazing；　bone　ends　and　even　the　ragged　flesh　around　the　severed　neck；　identical。
　'That　does　it　for　me；'　I　announced。
　'No　question　about　it　in　my　mind；'　he　agreed。　'Let's　print　this　out。'
　He　clicked　the　mouse　and　the　laser　printer　hummed　on。　Removing　the　photographs　from　the　scanner；　he　replaced　them　with　the　one　of　the　feet　and　hands；　moving　it　around　until　it　was　perfectly　centered。　As　he　began　to　enlarge　images；　the　sight　became　even　more　grotesque；　blood　staining　the　sheet　bright　red；　as　if　it　had　just　been　spilled。　The　killer　had　neatly　lined　up　feet　like　a　pair　of　shoes；　hands　side　by　side　like　gloves。
　'He　should　have　turned　them　palm　down；'　Vander　said。　'I　wonder　why　he　didn't？'
　Using　spatial　filtering　to　retain　important　details；　he　began　eliminating　interference；　such　as　the　blood　and　the　texture　of　the　blue　table　cover。
　'Can　you　get　any　ridge　detail？'　I　asked　leaning　so　close；　I　could　smell　his　spicy　aftershave。
　'I　think　I　can；'　he　said。
　His　voice　was　suddenly　cheerful；　for　there　was　nothing　he　liked　better　than　reading　the　hieroglyphics　of　fingers　and　feet。　Beneath　his　gentle；　distracted　demeanor　was　a　man　who　had　sent　thousands　of　people　to　the　penitentiary；　and　dozens　to　the　electric　chair。　He　enlarged　the　photograph　and　assigned　arbitrary　colors　to　various　intensities　of　gray；　so　we　could　see　them　better。　Thumbs　were　small　and　pale　like　old　parchment。　There　were　ridges。
　'The　other　fingers　aren't　going　to　work；'　he　said；　staring；　as　if　in　a　trance。　'They're　too　curled　for　me　to　see。　But　thumbs　look　pretty　darn　good。　Let's　capture　this。'　Clicking　into　a　menu；　he　saved　the　image　on　the　puter's　hard　disk。　'I'm　going　to　want　to　work　on　this　for　a　while。'
　That　was　his　cue　for　me　to　leave；　and　I　pushed　back　my　chair。
　'If　I　get　something；　I'll　run　it　through　AFIS　right　away；'　he　said　of　the　Automated　Fingerprint　Identification　System；　capable　of　paring　unknown　latent　prints　against　a　databank　of　millions。
　'That　would　be　great；'　I　said。　'And　I'll　start　with　HALT。'
　He　gave　me　a　curious　look；　because　the　Homicide　Assessment　and　Lead　Tracking　System　was　a　Virginia　database　maintained　by　the　state　police　in　conjunction　with　the　FBI。　It　was　the　place　to　start　if　we　suspected　the　case　was　local。
　'Even　though　we　have　reason　to　suspect　the　other　cases　are　not　from　here；'　I　explained　to　him；　'I　think　we　should　search　everything　we　can。　Including　Virginia　databases。'
　Vander　was　still　making　adjustments；　staring　at　the　screen。
　'As　long　as　I　don't　have　to　fill　out　the　forms；'　he　replied。
　In　the　hallway　were　more　boxes　and　white　cartons　marked　EVIDENCE　lining　either　side　and　stacked　to　the　ceiling。　Scientists　walked　past；　preoccupied　and　in　a　hurry；　paperwork　and　samples　in　hand　that　might　send　someone　to　court　for　murder。　We　greeted　each　other　without　slowing　down　as