Page 93 of Sharp Force

He directs the UV light as I point the Raman’s laser beam at thearea on the chair glowing fiery red. Seconds later, a spectrogram and chemical formulas appear in the illuminated display.

C55H74MgN4O5+ CaCO3

“I don’t know what that is.” Benton’s voice sounds.

“No clue.” Marino types on his phone glowing in the dark.

“I recognize calcite but not the other,” I tell them.

“Chlorophyll,” Marino says. “According to my friend Google, because I’m not talking to Janet. Let’s see how she likes that, right? A dose of her own medicine.”

He turns on the bedroom light again.

“Chlorophyll? As in the green stuff in plants?” Benton asks me this.

“What would seem to be a powder form of it,” I reply. “Plus calcite, the mineral name of calcium carbonate. The residue is a mixture.”

“We sure it’s a powder? Could this stuff have been in a liquid form and spilled?” Marino scowls at the esoteric science of it all.

He’ll be the first to tell you that during high school he and chemistry were mortal enemies. That and math. Also, physics. And he once said he’d rather poke himself in the eye than read about computer science.

“I wouldn’t think the compound was in a liquid form,” I tell him. “It makes more sense that a very fine powder could have been transferred by the killer without him being aware.”

We step out into the hallway, and I check the fluorescing residue on the carpet. The reading is the same.

C55H74MgN4O5+ CaCO3

“We’ll verify in the labs,” I reply. “But somehow a powdered form of chlorophyll and calcite ended up on the hall runner and a bedroom chair. Also on Georgine Duvall’s face. Implying it wason the killer’s gloves. Likely also on his feet or whatever he covered them with. PPE, since we suspect he’s wearing it.”

“And he must have set something on the bedroom chair, perhaps his murder kit,” Benton adds. “But why would the killer be carrying a residue like this on his person and belongings?”

“I don’t know,” I reply. “But it would appear he’s exposed to it for some reason at home, maybe at his workplace or wherever else he frequents.”

“I don’t get it,” Marino says. “Chlorophyll, calcite? Maybe it’s an error.”

“I doubt it. This thing’s pretty reliable.” Powering off the Raman spectrometer, I place it back inside the heavy-duty plastic case.

“It says here that powdered chlorophyll is a dietary supplement used by people with skin conditions and cancer.” Marino is looking at his phone, googling again, refusing to ask Janet. “It’s used for wound healing and all sorts of other things. And calcite is in antacids and vitamins. Also cement.”

“The powder could be some type of nutritional supplement,” I suggest. “Perhaps something the killer adds to his diet.”

“Maybe he’s having health problems,” Benton contemplates.

“Good,” Marino snorts. “Hopefully the asshole’s dying.”

“I wonder if Zain had this mixture of powdered chlorophyll and calcite on him before he was driven away in the ambulance?” Benton questions.

“I didn’t see anything like that in the kitchen,” I reply. “The only nutritional supplements I noticed were in the pantry. The usual multivitamins. Nothing that could account for this residue.”

“Nothing like that is in his bedroom either. I didn’t see any vitamins or supplements.” Benton lets us know he’s been scoping out the house.

I didn’t hear him when he was walking around. My husband is gifted at coming and going like a shadow.

“We’ll test his clothing, his shoes,” I explain. “I’ll bring a UV light with me when we go to the hospital. Zain’s wounds will have been cleaned but most likely he won’t have showered.”

“What I’m not seeing is a drone of any kind,” Marino says. “But he’s got remote controls on his desk upstairs that could be for one and also gaming.”

I’m reminded of the device the state trooper attached to the underside of our Tesla. Someone could have hacked in using a gaming or drone controller, sending us into head-on traffic or over a cliff.