The Third Victim Part 65

"How do you make a sabot?" she asked Sanders.

"It's involved. In this case, ballistics has determined that the .22-caliber slug recovered from Avalon's body was actually fired from a -38-caliber gun."

"Danny's .38 revolver."

"No. Rifling doesn't match. Give me a minute, we'll get to it. Okay, so we have someone, Quincy's UNSUB, who wants to cover his tracks. He hits upon a great idea. He'll shoot a .22-caliber slug from a .38 revolver. Given the entry wound and weight of the recovered projectile, everyone will be looking for a ,2.2. semiauto. He'll never get tied to the crime.

"But how to make a .38 fire a .22-caliber bullet? That's where the sabot comes in. The UNSUB takes a plastic rod and turns it until it's the diameter of a .38-caliber bullet. He then cuts the rod to the same length as a .38 slug and this isn't child's play center-drills the piece of plastic with a .22-caliber hole. He cuts the piece of plastic lengthwise in three equal pieces, then glues the pieces back together at the base. Voila, he has made a sabot. Now he removes a .22 slug from its casing. Then he simply pushes the slug into the center of the sabot from the top, inserts the entire thing into a .38-caliber casing, and loads a .38-caliber-size bullet into his revolver. Upon being fired from the barrel of the gun, the sabot's three pieces will fall apart, leaving the .22-caliber projectile to continue on and strike the victim. And the UNSUB ejects the sh.e.l.l casing, then walks away with his .38 revolver, leaving no one the wiser."

"We're talking serious thought here," Rainie said.

"And knowledge of guns. Sabots have been around since the earliest firearms, but it's not like everyone's using them."

"Now that we know what it is, can we trace the bullet?" "Not the slug," Sanders said, and got a wicked gleam in his eye.

"But you can sure as h.e.l.l trace the plastic. Ballistics has already rea.s.sembled the three pieces and they form a perfect model of a .38 projectile, right down to the rifling marks."

"Don't be an a.s.s, Sanders. Tell us what we've got."

The state detective's face fell.

"Yeah, well, that brings me to the bad news. So far the sabot doesn't match with anything we have. Not with the .38 revolver recovered from Danny or with any other revolvers or slugs whose rifling marks we have on file."

"Drugfire," Quincy said.

"Noooo," Sanders groaned.

"Not again!"

"Absolutely," Rainie overruled him.

"Face it, Sanders, you can only check statewide. Through the drugfire databases, Quincy can cover the whole country for a match with another .38 slug used in a crime. The sabot goes to the fed."

"And what has he done with my computers lately?"

"It's only been twenty-four hours," Quincy said mildly.

"I'd have given you updates within twenty-four hours. h.e.l.l, I just delivered a sabot to you in fifty-six!"

"Let it go, Sanders," Rainie told him kindly.

"The feds have better toys. It's a fact of life."

Luke had a perplexed look on his face. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees, and peered at Sanders intently.

"You're saying this person went out of his or, I guess, her way to make a special bullet to kill Melissa Avalon. A bullet that couldn't be traced back to ... the person?"

"A bullet that conceivably couldn't be traced back to him or her.

Yes."

"Why?" Luke asked bluntly.

"Danny's there. Danny's brought two guns covered in his fingerprints and registered to Danny's father. What's with the third weapon? Isn't that more dangerous? Someone might see this person armed and mention it later. Or maybe something goes wrong and this person ends up dropping the gun, or dropping the sabot, or G.o.d knows what. Seems to me that the margin of error is higher with the additional .38." They all studied one another. Sanders had brought up the question before. They still didn't have an answer.

"Symbolism?" Rainie tried after a moment. She glanced at Quincy, the resident expert in criminal behavior.

"Maybe there was a personal reason behind the .22 slug as well as a practical one. The person had a reason to kill Melissa Avalon, and the choice of bullet is tied in to that."

"Christ, it's not like she was a werewolf and had to be killed with a silver bullet," Sanders muttered.

"A .22 slug is as common as it gets."

"What about the gun? Maybe the .38 revolver was a special gift from her husband, with the barrel engraved, To the One I Love, which had really touched her heart until she found out he'd given it to her out of guilt over doing the hokeypokey with another woman."

"Doing the hokeypokey?" Sanders pressed with a raised brow.

"Fine, f.u.c.king. He was f.u.c.king another woman. Does that work better '

"I think we're missing something," Quincy said quietly.

Rainie and Sanders shut up. They all turned to him. His face was remarkably composed, but there was a light in Quincy's eyes Rainie had never seen before. He was excited. He had figured out part of the riddle, and he was thrilled to death.

"Let's look at the elements of this crime," Quincy began evenly.

"First, our UNSUB utilizes manipulation. He or she identifies a troubled youth Danny O'grady and approaches him, probably first via the Internet but then meets him in person to cement the relations.h.i.+p. This person needs someone like Danny. He learns his b.u.t.tons, and he begins to push.

The UNSUB also enjoys complexity. I think Luke and Sanders are correct. Why use a sabot when Danny's .38 would've done? Maybe because he or she could. In all probability, the .22 slug would deform, making it impossible to test and leaving us none the wiser. But in case it didn't, the UNSUB left another little riddle for the police to solve. Another way for law enforcement to be impressed by his or her skills.

"Which also brings us to the computers. It would appear that the UNSUB has been using Melissa Avalon's e-mail account to contact Danny. So why erase the school computers? Any correspondence, downloads, et cetera, would only show Danny talking to his teacher. Even if the contents of the e-mails were questionable, Melissa Avalon is dead. How is she going to defend herself? But again, one level of diversion is not enough for our UNSUB. He or she also tampers with the school computers. I'm almost positive now that when data-recovery agents delve into the hard drives, they will find everything overridden by zeroes. Our UNSUB seems obsessed with being thorough."

"But what about Danny?" Rainie objected.

"Once you've introduced another person into a crime, it's no longer efficient. He's scared now, sure, but sooner or later he's bound to talk. That seems like a huge loose end. If the UNSUB really wanted to be untraceable, he or she should've acted alone."

"No." Quincy vehemently shook his head.

"This UNSUB absolutely would not do everything alone. After all, what's the point of being so ridiculously clever if no one ever learns about it)' Rainie went still. She saw comprehension slowly was.h.i.+ng over Luke's and Sanders's faces, and she knew they had arrived at the same conclusion she had when their eyes suddenly widened in horror.

"You mean .. . you mean this person wanted someone to admire his efforts?"

"Yes."

"And if Danny does crack, does one day tell everything ..."

"What's one of the biggest factors we're already seeing in school shootings? Ego. Boys trying to a.s.sert their ident.i.ty in a crowded world. Confused children who equate being infamous with being famous.

Are you kidding? The UNSUB is hoping that someday Danny will crack.

Not right away. Our shooter needs time to get out of Dodge. But one day he hopes to pick up the paper and read about a thirteen-year-old boy whose sole line of defense in a triple-homicide case is that the bogeyman made him do it. And all the crime experts will say this proves how today's youths refuse to take responsibility for their actions, and the legal experts will say this proves how today's defense attorneys go out of their way to confuse juries with conspiracy theories, and our UNSUB will have a good laugh. Our UNSUB will clip every article on Danny O'Grady's trial and have a ball."

"We're no longer talking a crime of pa.s.sion, are we?" Rainie asked weakly.