The Apprentice Read Online Free PDF Page B

electricians make good money.”
    “Um, that’s not quite the same career.”
    They were moving in an ever-widening circle, the UV light continuing to pick up the occasional fleck of hair, fibers, and other unidentifiable particles. Suddenly they moved into a startlingly bright field.
    “The rug,” said Mick. “Whatever these fibers are, they’re fluorescing like crazy. Won’t be able to see much against this background.”
    “Scan it anyway,” said Rizzoli.
    “Coffee table’s in the way. Could you move it?”
    Rizzoli reached down toward what appeared to her as only a geometric shadow against a fluorescing background of white. “Korsak, get the other end,” she said.
    With the coffee table moved aside, the area rug was a bright oval pool that glowed bluish-white.
    “How we gonna spot anything on that background?” said Korsak. “It’s like trying to see glass floating in water.”
    “Glass doesn’t float,” said Mick.
    “Oh, right. You’re the engineer. So what’s
Mick
short for, anyway?
Mickey
?”
    “Let’s do the couch,” Rizzoli cut in.
    Mick redirected the lens. The couch fabric also glowed under UV, but it was a softer fluorescence, like snow under moonlight. Slowly he scanned the padded frame, then the cushions, but spotted no suspicious smears, only a few long stray hairs and dust particles.
    “These were tidy people,” said Mick. “No stains, not even much dust. I’ll bet this couch is brand-new.”
    Korsak grunted. “Must be nice. Last new couch I bought was when I got married.”
    “Okay, there’s some more floor space back there. Let’s move that way.”
    Rizzoli felt Korsak bump into her, and she smelled his doughy odor of sweat. His breathing was noisy, as though he had sinus problems, and the darkness seemed to amplify his snuffling. Annoyed, she stepped away from him and slammed her shin against the coffee table.
    “Shit.”
    “Hey, watch where you’re going,” said Korsak.
    She bit back a retort; things were already tense enough in this room. She bent down to rub her leg. The darkness and the abrupt change in position made her dizzy and disoriented. She had to squat down so she wouldn’t lose her balance. For a few seconds she crouched in the blackness, hoping Korsak wouldn’t trip over her, since he was heavy enough to squash her flat. She could hear the two men moving about a few feet away.
    “The cord’s tangled,” said Mick. The Crimescope light suddenly shifted in Rizzoli’s direction as he turned to free up the power cord.
    The beam washed across the rug where Rizzoli was crouched. She stared. Framed by the background fluorescence of the rug fibers was a dark irregular spot, smaller than a dime.
    “Mick,” she said.
    “Can you lift that end of the coffee table? I think the cord’s wrapped around the leg.”
    “Mick.”
    “What?”
    “Bring the scope over here. Focus on the rug. Right where I am.”
    Mick came toward her. Korsak did, too; she could hear his adenoidal breathing moving closer.
    “Aim at my hand,” she said. “I’ve got my finger near the spot.”
    Bluish light suddenly bathed the rug, and her hand was a black silhouette against the fluorescing background.
    “There,” she said. “What is it?”
    Mick crouched beside her. “A stain of some kind. I should get a photo of that.”
    “But it’s a dark spot,” said Korsak. “I thought we were looking for something that fluoresces.”
    “When the background’s highly fluorescent, like these carpet fibers, body fluids may actually look dark, because they don’t fluoresce as brightly. This stain could be anything. The lab will have to confirm it.”
    “So what, are we gonna cut a piece out of this nice rug, just because we’ve found an old coffee stain or something?”
    Mick paused. “There’s one more trick we can try.”
    “What?”
    “I’m going to change the wavelength on this scope. Bring it down to UV shortwave.”
    “What does that do?”
    “It’s real cool if it