Six Seconds

64

Faust’s Fork. Near Banff, Alberta, Canada

Campsite #131.

The Tarver family site.

Still cordoned by yellow tape.

Stepping from his truck to stretch, Royal Canadian

Mounted Police Corporal Arnie Danton took in the scent of pine forests, the view of the majestic Nine Bear Range and the rushing Faust River before he began his preparations.

He used the remaining daylight to set up, going to the back of his truck, pulling out his lamps, his cover alls, his gloves, and arranging his solutions, his cameras.

Then he sat on the tailgate and ate his dinner, a sub sandwich, potato chips with a bottle of water and a peanut butter cookie, chewing contentedly as he waited for night.

He needed the darkness.

Sitting alone with the rush of the river for company, he thought of Graham. He felt sorry for the guy and for what had happened to his wife. That’s why Danton was here on his own time doing him a favor. A lot of guys had been doing Graham favors lately.

Night came quickly in the mountains.

Danton crumpled his food wrappings, placed them neatly in his recycle bag, then set out to determine if blood was spilled anywhere in or around the Tarvers’ campsite by applying luminol.

A fifteen-year veteran who’d trained at the RCMP Academy, several universities, and crime labs in Ger many, Sweden, Japan and the U.S., Danton was rec ognized by courts in Canada and the U.S. as an expert in analyzing bloodstain patterns at crime scenes. He had a keen interest in the process of chemical lumines cence.

The process detected the presence of blood that is otherwise invisible to the naked eye by applying a solution of water, sodium perborate, sodium carbonate and luminol to a given area. Once the solution contacts blood, even minute traces, it reacts by turning bright blue under ultraviolet light.

Danton pulled on hooded coveralls, a face mask, latex gloves. On his head, he then slipped on an expen sive lightweight surgeon’s headlight offering LED illu mination and magnification. He prepared a large batch of the solution, then poured it into a cylinder resembling a diver’s air tank. He connected it to a hose and sprayer applicator, then slipped the tank on his back.

In the black, moonless night, Danton began working on the scene.

Section by section.

Spraying then scoping with the ultraviolet lamp.

Spraying. Scoping.

He’d devoured every study on outdoor application of luminol.

Six Seconds 379

The Russian, Swedish and Icelandic studies showed that months, even years of rain and snow, did not entirely eliminate the presence of human blood. Of par ticular interest was the study that indicated human blood was present on a centuries-old stone the Vikings had used for ritual ceremonies.

Anyone coming upon Danton would have witnessed a surreal ballet as he worked the scene like an artist.

First, the immediate campsite. Then the ground, the picnic table, the trees.

All remained as dark as the sky.

All negative.

Danton followed the short path to the riverbank and worked his way back slowly.

Spraying. Scoping.

A couple of paces from the water he froze.

Two small circles glowed blue.

“And thy brother’s blood crieth unto me from the ground.”

Danton, like most blood-pattern experts, knew the passage from Genesis.

He continued, moving forward from the riverbank toward the campsite.

Spraying. Scoping.

More blue droplets glowed until they formed a virtual Milky Way of blood.

For the next half hour, Danton painstakingly worked in a pattern that radiated from the site.

Spraying. Scoping.

He was running low on solution and about to pack it in when something in the bush glowed.

Like a distant star.

A grapefruit-size rock with bluish smears. Danton examined it.

Now, this would be your murder weapon.