Dead Guilty

she said to Frank.
‘‘It’s all cosmetic, really,’’ he told her.
‘‘Cosmetic. It looks totaled.’’
Before Diane left for work, she took coffee and hot egg and bacon sandwiches out to the policemen on her stakeout. They were surprised and grateful.
‘‘Will you be relieved soon?’’ she asked.
‘‘In an hour,’’ they assured her.
Frank drove her to the museum. She bought a paper on the way in and leafed through the pages, dreading what she would find. Another thing she’d have to deal with now—bad publicity for the museum, with her name attached.
‘‘I don’t see anything,’’ she said.
But there it was in the police blotter—one line. CAR REPORTED VANDALIZED ON EAST ELM STREET.
‘‘I don’t believe it. Hardly a mention. With any luck, that’ll be the end of it.’’
She was already letting go of the image of the phone calls, E-mails and letters about the attack—and the Itold-you-so ’s from her board members.
‘‘Dinner?’’ asked Frank, stopping in front of the museum.
Diane got out and leaned into the passenger’s side of his car. ‘‘Yes. Let’s go some place quiet.’’
‘‘How about my place? Star will be there, but she’d enjoy seeing you.’’
‘‘I’d like to see her too.’’
‘‘You going to be all right today? That was quite an ordeal last night.’’
‘‘I’ll be fine. Thanks for the rescue.’’
‘‘I didn’t do anything.’’
‘‘Yes, you did.’’
Diane went straight to the crime lab. Jin, David and Neva were already there. David peeked his head around the corner from where his rearing chambers were located.
‘‘Aren’t you due to give birth soon?’’ asked Diane.
‘‘Yep, got lots of babies here now. We’re coming along nicely. I’ll be able to give you a good time of death soon.’’
Jin came out from his work space when he heard Diane’s voice.
‘‘I have an ID on the orange carpet fiber.’’
‘‘More good news,’’ said Diane. ‘‘What is it?’’
‘‘It’s an inexpensive make and, unfortunately, it’s plentiful. Made by a company in Dalton, Georgia.’’
‘‘I can’t imagine that there is an expensive version of orange carpet,’’ said Neva.
‘‘I’ll have you know that I have orange carpet, and it looks quite nice,’’ said David.
Diane and Neva looked at him with raised eye brows.
‘‘In case you’re wondering, it’s the expensive vari ety. I had Jin take a sample from it to document that we haven’t contaminated anything.’’
‘‘It is a nice carpet,’’ said Jin. ‘‘Thick, low pile, soft. It’s more of a burnt orange color. Our guy’s carpet is bright orange, almost the color of a safety vest.’’
Diane and Neva laughed at the two of them talking about carpet.
‘‘Neva has something to show you,’’ said David, pointing to the conference table.
They all gathered around the table and looked into portraits of Blue, Red and Green Doe, first rendered by the computer, then as drawings enhanced by Neva. She had drawn a full face and profile of each victim. She had done as Diane asked, turning a computer graphic into realistic portraits of a Caucasian female and male and an Asian female. They looked like peo ple. They looked like someone their mothers would recognize.
‘‘These are great,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I mean it. This is really good.’’
‘‘I made the two whites look too much alike. I tend to do that when I’m drawing faces freehand—make them all look alike. I must subconsciously still be doing that.’’
‘‘The computer renditions of them look a little bit alike around the eyes and brow,’’ said David.
‘‘What I didn’t tell you,’’ Diane said to Neva, ‘‘be cause I didn’t want to influence you, is that Blue’’—she put a finger on the corner of Blue’s drawing—‘‘had a nose job.’’
Diane pointed to the profile of Green Doe with his large nose.
‘‘If he had a nose job, it would have to be the same kind that Blue Doe had in order to reduce the size, and they would look very much alike. We’ll have to see the DNA report, but I suspect they may be related—perhaps cousins, or sister and brother.’’
Neva looked at her, wide-eyed. ‘‘Then I did do it right.’’
‘‘Way to go, Rembrandt,’’ said Jin, bumping into her, shoving her slightly. ‘‘I told you they’re good.’’
‘‘Go to the archives department in the museum and make several copies. Use the color copier. Even though these aren’t color,