Dead Guilty

dog in that fight. Everett was several years older than Alice. Raised her after their parents died.’’
‘‘Can you tell me what Everett looks like?’’
‘‘Sure. About six feet. Brown hair and eyes. About thirty-two. Drives a truck, as I recall—had his own private one-truck business.’’
‘‘I think he was the one who killed Ashlyn and Jus tin Hooten, and Cathy Chu.’’
‘‘You don’t say? Took the law into his own hands. This thing was tragic all the way around.’’
‘‘If I send you a picture, can you identify him?’’
‘‘Sure thing. Just JPEG it on up here.’’ He gave her his E-mail address.
‘‘Was there another person involved with them?’’ asked Diane.
‘‘Besides the Hooten cousins and Cathy Chu? I don’t know of any. Could’ve been, though. Why?’’
‘‘There was a fourth, unused noose where we found the bodies.’’
‘‘A noose?’’
‘‘They were hanged.’’
‘‘Jesus. Did it up right, did he? There might have been some known associates. You got a description?’’
Diane almost said no, but she remembered her at tacker. The right age, and identity unknown. ‘‘He might be about the same age. Roughly six feet. Dark hair. Muscular. Prone to violence. But could be some one different.’’
‘‘I can ask around. I’m going to have to talk to the parents anyway. Give me your address and I’ll send you X-rays, dental charts, whatever we can get.’’
Diane gave him her address at the crime lab. She also gave him contact information for Chief Detective Garnett and Sheriff Braden, as well as the plastic sur geon’s name and address in Buffalo.
‘‘He has X-rays of both Ashlyn and Justin. Thanks for talking to me. You’ve made a lot of things fall into place.’’
‘‘Glad to do it. I’m just sorry this turned out so badly for everyone. Have you caught Everett?’’
‘‘Yes, it appears that we did. But he’s been mur dered also.’’
‘‘I’ll be damned. You do have yourselves a situation down there.’’
‘‘That’s a bit of an understatement.’’
‘‘I’ll contact the Canadians. Like I said, they want to keep crime out of their diamond field—and they’ll want their diamonds back if they turn out to be stolen.’’
‘‘Sure. Just have them call me or Chief Garnett. Thanks again.’’
Diane sent a JPEG photo of John Doe to Detective LaSalle, then called the tech school and left a message asking for an appointment to talk with Joseph Isaac son. On her way home, she called Garnett and re peated everything LaSalle had told her.
‘‘So we know who they are and why they were killed. You were right. Our John Doe was angry. This was about revenge—or maybe justice, as he saw it. I’ll call Braden and the profiler. He’ll have to revise his profile again.’’
Diane heard him laughing as he hung up his phone. * * *
Joseph Isaacson was a small man with short white hair and salt-and-pepper eyebrows and moustache. He walked with a slight stoop. Diane wondered if it was from years of bending over his work. He reminded her of their mummy—they called him a scribe, but he could have been an artisan like Joseph Isaacson. He spoke with a slight accent.
Isaacson closed the door to cut out the sound from the adjacent polishing and cutting equipment of the classroom, moved a stack of papers and invited her to sit.
His office was cluttered with books and papers. He had an old rolltop desk against the wall and a table in the middle. It was the table he actually used as a desk. Behind him was a photograph of a large spar kling diamond.
‘‘I’m looking for someone who cut a diamond for a young man named Chris Edwards,’’ she said. ‘‘He was a student at Bartram University.’’
Diane explained briefly that Edwards had been murdered, perhaps for the diamond.
‘‘You think one of my students may be a murderer?’’
‘‘Oh, no. I’m hoping you or one of your students cut the diamond and can tell me about it.’’
‘‘Aren’t you the director of the museum?’’
‘‘Yes, and I run a crime lab.’’
‘‘Such opposites.’’
‘‘Often very complementary.’’
‘‘A very yin and yang life you lead, my granddaugh ter would probably say. I did not cut a stone for the young man, but let’s ask my students.’’
He rose, and the two of them walked into the class room. He clapped his hands.
‘‘Students, listen.’’
They stopped what they were doing and looked up. ‘‘This nice woman is Dr. Diane Fallon of the