Dead Guilty

for the police to ask her questions. When she came back to her apartment, she’d passed her landlady and several of her neighbors, including the Odells across the hall. She wondered if it was time to look for another place to live before she was asked to leave.
She was ministering to cuts on her feet when Garnett arrived. ‘‘You need medical?’’ he asked.
‘‘Just a few cuts on the soles of my feet. How’s the officer who shot . . .’’ She let the question trail off.
‘‘He’s all right. A shooting’s always hard. He thought the guy was drawing a gun. It turned out it was his cell phone. Can you tell me what happened?’’
Diane told him about going to bed and hearing the voice just as she was about to fall asleep. She told about the struggle as best she remembered and about hitting him in the head with the radio.
‘‘I talked to him after he was shot. He said he just wanted to talk, that he wasn’t a murderer.’’
Garnett shook his head. ‘‘Think he’s our guy?’’
‘‘I don’t know. He may be just a stalker.’’
‘‘You can’t come in here.’’ The voice was from a policeman outside her door.
‘‘Tell Dr. Fallon that Frank Duncan is here.’’
Diane recognized the calm voice even through the door.
‘‘Ask them to let him in,’’ she said.
Garnett obliged, and Frank came in and sat down beside Diane, putting an arm around her shoulder.
‘‘What on earth happened?’’
Garnett explained while Diane put a couple more Band-Aids on her feet.
‘‘Is he the guy who attacked you last night?’’ asked Frank.
‘‘I don’t know,’’ said Diane. ‘‘How did you know something happened?’’
‘‘Izzy called. I think he’s trying to make up for being a horse’s ass. Get some clothes and come spend the night at my house.’’
Diane nodded. That sounded safe. She was sure her neighbors would feel safer if she were gone. Her new est neighbors must think this kind of thing happened to her every night.
As she left, Veda Odell, the neighbor across the hall, stuck her head out. ‘‘Marvin says he’d rather have a load of cats living next door than you.’’
‘‘Mrs. Odell,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I can’t say as I blame him.’’
    Diane called Garnett the next morning from the crime lab the minute she arrived. ‘‘What’s his status?’’
‘‘Critical. He seems to be hanging in there. Hasn’t been conscious for more than a few minutes at a time. Won’t talk when he is.’’
‘‘Do you know who he is?’’
‘‘He had no identification on him. We found what we believe is his vehicle. Stolen plates, no registration. And like I said, he isn’t talking. We’re sending you a copy of his fingerprints.’’
‘‘Here they are now.’’
David stood in front of her with an envelope in his hand. David, Jin and Neva had been hanging around her desk as if she might disappear if they looked away for a moment. Jin was stretched out on the sofa. Neva perched on the edge of one of the chairs.
‘‘These are fingerprints of the guy who came into my apartment last night. Check them against all our crime scene prints and every fingerprint database we have access to. We need a match if there’s one out there.’’
‘‘I’ll get on it,’’ said David. ‘‘I’ve just installed a new identification algorithm. I’m anxious to try it out.’’
‘‘Jin. Find out how the GBI is doing with the shed hair project.’’ She took a key off her key chain. ‘‘Go to my apartment and get some of his blood off my floor or on the towel they used to cover the wound, and take it with you to Atlanta. See if we can match it.’’
‘‘Neva.’’ Diane picked up a piece of paper from her desk. ‘‘This report from the bone samples came back yesterday. All of our victims grew up in the northeast ern United States. Sheriff Braden isn’t having any luck with missing persons. I want you to scan your drawings and save them as graphic files, JPEG, GIF, whatever works best on the Internet. I want you to locate a professional list serve, discussion board or whatever it’s called for plastic surgeons. Post the drawings of Blue and Green Doe, and see if anyone recognizes either of them. Mention where they grew up, Green’s heart condition and Blue’s tattoo of a butterfly on her ankle.’’
‘‘I could do the same thing with the tattoos,’’ said Neva. ‘‘Look for a discussion board about tattoos. Might get something.’’
‘‘Good idea. Okay, guys, you have