No Regrets

been born then. They strolled along the path shortly after noon. The girl was seventeen, her friend twenty-two. They broke off some bright red holly berry sprigs, talked about their Christmas plans, and wondered when the snowpack in Snoqualmie Pass would be deep enough for them to plan a ski trip.
    As they moved deeper into the woods, the trees were so thick that it was like being in a cave made of branches. Suddenly, the young woman gasped. A skull lay directly in front of them, resting on the surface on sodden, brown leaves. It was far too big to have come from any small woods creature; it was a human skull.
    Forgetting their walk, the couple ran to a nearby house and called the Bellevue Police Department. The first officer on the scene was Patrolman Bob Littlejohn. It was an irony in itself that Littlejohn should be the first lawman on the scene. Looking at the skull, he determined that it was, indeed, that of a human being. Yet he could have no way of knowing at the time that he was viewing the remains of someone he knew.
    Littlejohn was joined by Patrol Lieutenant Paul Olson. As they secured the scene and notified detectives at their downtown Bellevue offices, the two officers noted that the woods and surrounding trees were part of a long-forgotten peach orchard—all that remained from the days when the development known as “Sherwood Forest” was once farmland.
    Now it had become not only a favorite spot for rustic walks but also a popular dirt path for motorcyclists. Little-john walked carefully in an ever-widening circle radiatingout from the skull. Forty feet away, he stopped and stared down at the ground.
    He gazed at what first appeared to be only an abandoned Christmas tree. But as he focused his eyes, it resembled one of those drawings that change depending on how the viewer sees them: The woman’s face in the mirror becomes a death’s head, or black letters shift and the viewer sees that the white spaces say something different. Little-john suddenly became aware that this Christmas tree, its branches as bare of needles as the skull itself was denuded of flesh, covered something beneath it: bones that were the widespread legs of a skeleton. The body lay on its back, nude, and decomposition was far advanced. It had to have been here for months.
    Within minutes, eight detectives and Bellevue Police Chief Don Van Blaricom arrived. Detective Roy Gleason would take over principal responsibility for the homicide probe. And detectives Gary Trent, Marvin Skeen, Jim Constantine, Mike Lambo, John Cooper, Chuck Webb, and Mike Cate would be assigned to assist in the investigation of what surely was a homicide.
    As the investigators looked at the ravaged body— which from the way its hair was cut and the ragged clothes nearby was probably the remains of a female—they knew they would have to call on all their experience and expertise. Going in, this case had all the signs of a loser. The first forty-eight hours after a murder are the prime-time segment when a murder suspect will emerge, and after that the chances of finding him diminish with each passing day. The killer had a very long head start on them. They had no idea who she was, this sad victim thrown away in the woods.
    “I don’t think we’re even going to get an identification—let alone apprehend her killer,” Van Blaricom commented.
    Before the crime scene search began in earnest, they cordoned the area off, and uniformed officers were stationed at key points to prevent curious passersby from entering the woods.
    Although the body was naked, the investigators found several items. There was a red ski jacket, with yellow and orange stripes around the sleeves, waist, and collar. It was a mass-produced item, with a “Made in Hong Kong” label. There was a hooded, yellow cotton shirt trimmed in white with a front neck zipper and a pocket-pouch in front, also zippered. A pair of blue jeans with a twenty-seven-inch waist. White tube socks. A white bra with a J.C. Penney label. There were no panties.
    It appeared to be standard attire of an average young woman, and not distinctive enough to aid in identifying the body in the woods. Still, the clothing would be carefully dried and photographed on the slight chance that someone would recognize the items.
    Dr. John Eisele of the King County Medical Examiner’s Office arrived to do a preliminary examination of the victim. He could give only a “ballpark figure” as to the time of death. “Two, three