Autopsy of a Mind

Chapter 135: Never Make Mistakes

Back in the station, I received a call from forensics and rushed over. Sebastian went along with Nash and me, curious as to what the thing looked about. 

"The packaging and handwriting can say a lot about who sent it, right?" he told us when we asked him to go back to his case. 

"You're just tagging along because you don't want to look at the BTS killer case, don't you?" I answered. 

Sebastian shrugged. "While cold cases are more rewarding to figure out the answers of, they are harder to solve because of how much evidence becomes redundant in that time," he commented. "The bodies have already been buried, and I have no idea if there were more cases that we had no idea about. More than that, I also don't get a feel of the crime scene with my own eyes. Pictures show the perspective of the photographer, not that of the criminal or what I want to see. There could be more in that room that they didn't notice," he added. 

"Yes, sir. You are the almighty criminal psychiatrist who solves all his cases. Should I light some fire on your ass and send you back to your room?" Nash teased.

"I want to see this present. Even I have not given Evie a nicely packed present and this criminal does it? I need to see what I am up against," he said with a smirk. 

"Sending a bloody knife is not my idea of romantic. Especially when it comes with a thinly veiled warning," Evie scoffed.

"Well, I would like to help you find evidence. That's my idea of romance," Sebastian teased. 

"From you? I would gladly take it, but not from someone else. Also, with this guy in the scene, I feel like he is trying to take my place and divert your attention from me to him." I raised a brow at him. 

He turned to me with a sly smile. "I like people on the right side of the law," he said with a wink. 

"Well, I was into exploring abandoned places. If you think about it carefully, I was trespassing on someone else's property. I am not on the right side of the law most of the time, either," I commented with a note of amusement. 

"God, this walk is too long," Nash grumbled from beside us and I had to chuckle. 

"Well, that is part of your charm. This guy seems more like a cockroach infestation that you want to get rid of but even the extermination can't take care of." He huffed. 

He pushed the door open and beckoned me to enter. The sterile forensics room was filled with people, all on computers and other gadgets. On a table, I saw the neatly wrapped box placed as a man inspected it. 

We walked over. 

"Any clues?" Nash asked immediately. 

"We ran a quick test and confirmed that the blood was the victim's," he said quickly. He looked up at us and smiled. "We got two distinct fingerprints, too."

I held my breath. 

"We have one set from the primary suspect and another partial print from someone else." He showed us the prints on the screen.

"Could you tell us about the placement?" I asked politely. He looked at me strangely but complied. 

"We have solid four fingerprints on the handle," he said, showing me the ones that he had taken. "And two partial prints at the tip of the handle here."

I took note of this and nodded. "The predominant one is McCain's. So he was the one who stabbed and the other person took it from him and tried to get rid of it," I analyzed. 

"You can say that by looking at prints?" the man asked. 

"I use my imagination," I responded pleasantly.

"And what about the second one? Do we have any matches on the database for it?" Sebastian cut in immediately.

"We looked through the criminal database and found no matches," he shrugged. 

"There is a record of all public prosecutors in place, right? They passed a law about this around 2009, right?" I asked. 

The man blinked. "They did." He turned to the system and put it through checks. "it will take fifteen minutes for this to process. Our department still doesn't have the hi-tech stuff that finds matches quickly," he sighed. 

"Thank you for accommodating us!" I told him anyway. "What about the box? Is there anything particular about it?"

He shook his head. "The ribbon is generic, no brand one that you can buy in any shop. The box is generic as is the fabric under the knife. We even looked at the clear tape they used to hold the box together. Nothing. Not even a speck of dust or partial print."

"And the edges of the tape? Where they cut with scissors or torn by the teeth?" Nash asked quickly. 

"Sliced through with inhuman precision. Like a robot was used. I have never seen someone pack anything like this it's so perfect."

I could see Sebastian purse his lips. He leaned down, planting his face close to the box. 

"What are you doing?" the man asked. 

"Smelling it," Sebastian answered simply. I raised my brow but waited for him. He turned to us with a grimace. "The guy sanitized and dehumidified the whole box." He broke out into unamused but surprised chuckles. 

"That level of precision" I trailed off. 

"He erased anything that could lead to him," Nash said in disbelief. 

"I've never heard of anyone doing that to get rid of the evidence. This person knows about microbial recognition," the forensics guy stated. 

"Microbial recognition?" I asked, confused. 

"Yes. Basically, we can extract the bacterial deposit on an object and detect the person who is the prime suspect. It is a new technique we are using to confirm criminals."

"I don't understand" I whispered. 

"So, when we breathe onto something, we leave traces of ourselves behind. Our breathes do not have DNA, but they do expel bacteria and microbes into the air. So, if you breathe on something and we extract that information, we can use that as an imprint to confirm who it was."

"Seems like a stretch," I admitted. 

"Yes. Very rarely used but it's a thing," the man said. "But this guy seems to know something."

"Thanks!" Nash spoke up. "We'll talk to the officer who brought the box in, too." He tapped his finger on the desk. We waited around for fifteen minutes and behold. The result was out. 

Partial prints were hard to pin down, but when you get a match with Collins, it wasn't something you discard.

"Write up a report and send it to us. We will issue a warrant for the arrest of McCain and Collins," Nash spoke in an excited rush. 

"What are you planning on pinning on them?" Sebastian asked curiously. 

"Planned murder, destruction of the crime scene, obstruction of justice, and violating his restraining order for McCain. Witness intimidation, withholding information, falsifying reports, and tampering with evidence for Collins." I had never seen such a big smile on Nash's face. 

"You're enjoying this too much," Sebastian said, his eyes wide. "Remind me never to get on your bad side." He huffed. 

"You are already on my bad side," Nash snapped back. 

"Okay, kids, let's go back. We have a lot of work to do."

"And we need to call the prosecutor to handle this, too," Nash groaned. "They'll have an excellent time with this double whammy we are sending their way," Nash cheered. 

"Let's hurry up, then!" I stated. "We'll wrap this up and I will go home to pack."

Both of the men paused. "Pack? For what?" Nash inquired. 

"You forgot? You already signed my leave!" I exclaimed. Nash looked confused. 

"She has that conference, remember? She's attending with Dr. Singh," Sebastian reminded. "You're leaving the day after tomorrow the case wrapped up just in time," he commented, sounding proud. 

"I didn't have much to do with that," I admitted. 

"Anyway what do you think about the box-sender?" I asked both of them. 

"He obviously knows the criminal procedure. This is just further proof. He has a connection within the police or is an officer himself. And he is thorough," Nash analyzed. 

"I'll add that he is jittery about being perfect. He doesn't want any mistakes. Not only in his criminal endeavors but also in his personal life."

"But we could write that off by saying he wanted no trace that could lead back to him," I interjected. 

Sebastian shook his head. "Microbial identification is too new to be used. Especially on an unknown target. If we had a suspect, it was still usable but not like this." He scrubbed his face. "Moreover, he is not obsessive-compulsive. He sanitized the box after doing everything. He wouldn't think he was dirty and it wouldn't matter if the box was already out of his hand. Therefore, he has the need to be perfect."

"Like someone demanded of it from him before?" Nash supplied. "Maybe a caregiver who was hard on him and he developed the need to never make mistakes."

My eyes flashed. "That's leading us somewhere, isn't it?" I offered. "Now, we need to see how it got to the station." I just hoped that it would be as easy as I hoped that it would be.