As I start to walk past her, I think of one more question. “Mrs. Harrington, do you have a key to his house?”

“Yes, I do. Why?”

“I thought he might’ve left a note.”

“Oh.” Her face crumples. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“Is it okay with you if we take a look inside?”

“Sure. Whatever you need.”

Giving her a final nod, I turn my attention back to the scene. The Holmes County coroner, Dr. Ludwig Coblentz, has arrived. He’s a rotund man and clad in his trademark extra-large scrubs, a slicker draped over his shoulders. There’s a young technician with him. Judging from the tuft of peach fuzz on his chin, I guess him to be a trainee and new to fieldwork. I wonder how long he’ll last.

While the doctor slips into biohazard gear, the technician, who’s already suited up, kneels and unzips a body bag. Several yards away, two paramedics from Pomerene Hospital in Millersburg stand just inside the sliding door, watching. A volunteer fire fighter has set up an aluminum combination ladder beneath the body. A second volunteer stands on the platform section, trying to figure out the best way to lower the corpse to the ground.

I cross to Doc Coblentz and motion toward the biohazard on the ground beneath the body. “Do you guys have a field test for blood?” I ask.

“We do.” The coroner nods at the technician. “Randy, grab one of those Hemastix strips, will you?”

The technician digs into his equipment bag, removes a bottle of Hemastix, and plucks out a single plastic strip.

“It’ll test for the presence of hemoglobin, which indicates blood,” the doc tells me. “If it’s present, we’ll get a color reaction.”

We watch the technician press the colored end of the strip against the moist earth. Within seconds, the tip turns green.

“I got a positive,” the technician says.

From his place near the workbench, Maloney plugs the work light into the extension cord, and the barn is abruptly flooded with severe fluorescent light. I get my first good look at the corpse—and the size of the reddish black stain on the shirt.

“Too much blood for a hanging,” the doc says grimly.

“Let’s get him down and take a closer look,” I say.

We watch in silence as the firefighter standing on the platform uses a utility knife to cut the rope. Keeping it looped around the rafter for friction, he slowly hoists the body toward the ground. As the body descends, the technician and Doc Coblentz open the body bag on the ground. The victim’s boots make contact first. The technician pulls the victim’s feet toward the base of the bag and places him in a supine position. I can tell by the stiffness of the dead man’s legs that he’s been there awhile. Rigor mortis peaks at about twelve hours, then subsides after twenty-four to thirty-six hours. It would have been a much grislier scene had more time elapsed before he was discovered.