eerie glow of fluorescing shapes appeared like ghosts in the dark room, the rug and the couch bouncing back light as Mick had predicted. The blue light moved toward the opposite wall, where Dr. Yeager’s corpse had been sitting, and bright slivers glowed on the wall.
“Kind of pretty, isn’t it?” said Mick.
“What is that?” asked Korsak.
“Strands of hair, adhering to the blood.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s
real
pretty.”
“Shine it on the floor,” said Rizzoli. “That’s where it’ll be.”
Mick aimed the UV lens downward, and a new universe of revealed fibers and hairs glowed at their feet. Trace evidence that the initial vacuuming by the CSU had left behind.
“The more intense the light source, the more intense the fluorescence,” said Mick as he scanned the floor. “That’s why this unit is so great. At four hundred watts, it’s bright enough to pick up everything. The FBI bought seventy-one of these babies. It’s so compact, you can bring it on a plane as a carry-on.”
“What are you, some techno freak?” said Korsak.
“I like cool gadgets. I was an engineering major.”
“You were?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“I didn’t think guys like you were into that stuff.”
“Guys like me?”
“I mean, the earring and all. You know.”
Rizzoli sighed. “Open mouth, insert foot.”
“What?” said Korsak. “I’m not putting them down or anything. I just happen to notice that not many of them go into engineering. More like theater and the arts and stuff. I mean, that’s
good.
We
need
artists.”
“I went to U. Mass,” said Mick, refusing to take offense. He continued to scan the floor. “Electrical engineering.”
“Hey, 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,