Page 53 of Identity Unknown
“What witness are we talking about?” Marino asks.
“His astronomer friend Marie Rao walked out with him to the parking lot.” Benton offers a detail I didn’t know. “They talked by her car for a few minutes, and then he got into histruck and drove away as if everything was normal. The restaurant has a hardwired security camera covering the parking lot. We’ve got it on film.”
“It would be helpful to see that,” Marino replies, and it’s sickening to imagine what Benton just described.
It sounds like Sal had a pleasant time with his colleagues, and then what? Who else saw him drive away and perhaps followed? I pick up a large syringe, signaling I’m getting started.
“First, I’ll draw blood from the femoral artery in the upper inner thigh.” Inserting the ten-gauge needle, I pull the plunger, the unoxygenated blood dark red. “The number one priority is to confirm identity with DNA.” I begin filling test tubes. “The sooner the better, as I worry about the news getting out before we can inform his next of kin.”
Placing a tube of blood in a plastic carton, I instruct Marino to set it outside the door. He’s to spray everything copiously with disinfectant. Whoever picks up the evidence needs to have on appropriate PPE, I tell everyone, and Tron leaves the observation area.
“Based on his x-rays, he didn’t land feetfirst.” I begin to explain what else I’m seeing.
“Is that significant?” Bella asks.
“If people are conscious during a fall, the theory is that they’ll try to right themselves and land feetfirst,” I reply. “It’s instinct to protect the head. But the way someone lands depends on many things, including what position the person was in to begin with and what happened on the way down. He has a hematoma across the middle of both thighs from striking something hard before hitting the ground.”
“How do you know it happened before he hit the ground?” DARPA asks.
“Because the injury occurred not long before death but doesn’t correlate with anything I saw at the scene.” I swab the dark red contusion. “I can see four evenly spaced identical perpendicular scrapes, a pattern of some kind.”
“Definitely not a tree branch,” Bella says.
“And it wasn’t made by the bricks under him,” I answer as Marino places the ruler next to the injury in question, taking photos.
“Maybe he hit some part of the UAP on his way down,” General Gunner suggests. “Part of a landing gear or other structure.”
“My question is whether he was conscious when he was pushed overboard,” Bella says. “You’re telling us that he was alive. But was he aware?”
“I can’t answer that yet, and we may never know.” Using a hand magnifier, I look at debris in tangles of long gray hair.
I adjust the surgical light as I check the neck with the magnifier, noticing a barely visible tiny reddish dot below the left ear. A puncture wound that looks fresh, I inform everyone.
“Likely made by a hypodermic needle,” I add. “Possibly he was injected with something.”
“Explaining how he was subdued,” Benton decides. “He may have encountered someone on the road who injected him in the neck with some type of sedative.”
“We’ll see what toxicology has to say.” I check other skin surfaces, finding three puncture wounds in the fold of the left arm, and two more on the left buttock. “We’ll run samples inour labs while you run them in yours.” I meet Benton’s eyes as I say this, silently reminding him that we agreed to share the evidence.
I ask if there might be a set of forensic lights handy, and Lucy directs Marino to the top shelf of a cabinet. He lifts out a plastic case, opening it on the countertop. Inside are what look like six small black flashlights, each a different wavelength.
“Now I’m going to collect trace evidence, which literally refers to traces of things we can’t see with the unaided eye,” I explain. “We’ll see what fluoresces. Dust, fibers, body fluids.”
I select the ultraviolent light, turning it on, the glass lens glowing purple. Turning off the surgical lamp, I put on a pair of orange-tinted glasses.
“You’re going to be in the dark for a few minutes,” I apologize to our audience, flipping a wall switch, everything blacking out.
I begin painting the UV light over the body, amazed as something lights up cobalt blue, a residue as fine as dust. It adheres everywhere except the bloody wounds, suggesting it isn’t from the ground where Sal was found. It was transferred from somewhere else before he was dropped out of the sky. Using the adhesive side of Post-its, I begin collecting anything clinging to hair and skin.
As I work in the dark I describe what I’m doing while Marino continues taking photographs, holding an orange filter in front of the camera lens. He’s on one side of the table and I’m on the other, and I can make out his bulky shape as the camera’s flashgun goes off. In the purple glow of ultraviolent I labelthe small yellow Post-it squares, tucking them into white paper envelopes.
“The most telling evidence likely will be what we discover has been transferred to the body from various locations,” I’m saying as I continue exploring with the UV light. “Of interest is any conveyance he was in, including the UAP that seems to be involved. But most of all where he was held hostage.”
“How long are we thinking?” Bella asks.
“We know he left the restaurant last night at around eight-thirty and never made it to the lodge.” It’s Benton who answers. “And the UAP was detected near the Oz theme park at six this morning. That’s the time frame.”
“He was held somewhere for as long as ten hours?” Bella asks. “How dreadful.”