But the criminalist was irritated. The crime scene had been very sloppily worked. There were Polaroid photos revealing a number of footprints but no rulers had been laid in the shot to indicate size. Also, none of the prints had numbered cards to indicate that they’d been made by different individuals.

Sachs noticed this too and shook her head, commenting on it.

Lucy, sounding defensive, said, “You always do that? Put cards down?”

“Of course,” Sachs said. “It’s standard procedure.”

Rhyme continued to examine the report. In it was only a cursory description of the location and pose of the boy’s body. Rhyme could see that the outlining had been done in spray paint, which is notorious for ruining trace and contaminating crime scenes.

No dirt had been sampled for trace at the site of the body or where there’d been an obvious scuffle between Billy and Mary Beth and Garrett. And Rhyme could see cigarette butts on the ground—which might provide many clues—but none had been collected.

“Next.”

Thom flipped the page.

The friction ridge—fingerprint—report was marginally better. The shovel had four full and seventeen partials, all positively identified as Garrett’s and Billy’s. Most of them were latents but a few were evident—easily visible without chemicals or alternative light source imaging—in a smear of mud on the handle. Still, Mason had been careless when he’d worked the scene—his latex glove prints on the shovel covered up many of the killer’s. Rhyme would have fired a tech for such careless handling of evidence but since there were so many other good prints it wouldn’t make any difference in this case.

The equipment would be arriving soon. Rhyme said to Bell, “I’m going to need that forensics tech to help me with the analysis and the equipment. I’d prefer a cop but the important thing is that they know science. And know the area here. A native.”

Mason’s thumb danced a circle over the ribbed hammer of his revolver. “We can dig somebody up but I thought you were the expert. I mean, isn’t that why we’re using you?”

“One of the reasons you’re using me is because I know when I need help.” He looked at Bell. “Anybody come to mind?”

It was Lucy Kerr who answered. “My sister’s boy—Benny—he’s studying science at UNC. Grad school.”

“Smart?”

“Phi Beta. He’s just… well, a little quiet.”

“I don’t want him for his conversation.”

“I’ll call him.”

“Good,” Rhyme said. Then: “Now, I want Amelia to search the crime scenes: the boy’s room and Blackwater.”

Mason said, “But”—he waved his hand at the report—“we already did that. Fine-tooth comb.”

“I’d like her to search them again,” Rhyme said shortly. Then looked at Jesse. “You know the area. Could you go with her?”

“Sure. Be happy to.”