Page 16 of Zero Divergence
“I have to believe it too, or I won’t get out of bed each morning,” Sarah said softly. “I need my baby to have justice, and I trust you to give it to us.” She placed her hand over Royce’s, sandwiching it between hers and Jennifer’s.
“That goes for me too,” Emma said, covering Sarah’s hand.
“Me too,” Dinah said, placing her hand on top. “Let’s nail this bastard’s balls to the wall.”
Royce swallowed hard. “You humble me, ladies.”
“What can we do?”
“Stay away from Humphries and his wife and avoid the media. They will take your words and twist them around, adding fuel to the fire. The last thing you want is to be named in a defamation lawsuit.”
All four women nodded.
After they left, Royce headed to the evidence locker room, where he found Tobias at his station. “Good morning, Sergeant Locke.”
“Good morning, Tobias.”
“I suspect I know why you’re here. Both Commissioner Rigby and Chief Mendoza informed me you’d be looking into the chain of custody breach for the Humphries evidence. I assured them of my full cooperation.” Of course, he did. The man had a cushy job and didn’t want to be reassigned to something less savory.
“That’s right.”
“What do you hope to discover that IA didn’t?” Tobias asked.
“The truth, Tobias. I haven’t read any of the reports. I am coming into this completely blind. Start at the very beginning, and don’t leave anything out. No detail is too insignificant or small.”
Thirty minutes later, Royce knew the date and time all the evidence was signed out by the lab courier, and he knew the date and time it was returned to them. All except the bedsheet, of course. It went missing between the lab and the police evidence locker room. Tobias was so thorough Royce was surprised he hadn’t learned what the older man had eaten for lunch on those days.
“Can I see the paperwork?”
“Of course.”
There were ten pieces of evidence sent to the lab for testing. Each one was labeled and assigned a tracking number, which was the case number plus an alphabetical letter starting with A and advancing until there were no new pieces. Items presented at trial would have an exhibit letter matching the letter in the tracking number. Royce ran his finger over their list of outgoing evidence, noting the tracking number range was S10946-A through S10946-J. The paperwork included a description for each item, and the sheet was listed as S10946-D. Next, he reviewed the forensic science service provider’s intake form. The data on the Richmond Laboratories’ FSSP receipt was an identical match. The bedsheet made it to the lab, was tested, and produced results that matched Humphries’s DNA to their killer.
“And our intake form when the items came back from the lab?”
Tobias handed the form to him. There were only nine items listed, and S10946-D wasn’t among them.
“Can I have the outgoing paperwork from the Richmond Laboratories?”
“Which one? The original one showing the sheet on the list of evidence coming back to us, or the one that arrived with the courier that we now know is altered?”
“Both,” Royce said.
He reviewed both forms. The only two discrepancies were the bedsheet missing from the forged document and different couriers were listed on both. The fake report looked authentic, so Tobias wouldn’t have known the bedsheet was removed. Evidence in a case didn’t always come back at the same time. Some tests took longer, and sometimes evidence was sent to another FSSP for further analysis. Tobias knew this better than anyone, so there’d been no reason for him to be suspicious.
How did someone know to take the sheet though? Who had tipped off Humphries? Royce could access visitor logs and request security camera tape from the county jail, but he had to know who he was looking for. He didn’t think it would do him any good, either. Humphries was too smart to get caught red-handed. He wouldn’t have met with his guy in person; he would’ve used someone as a go-between. Who? His attorney? It wouldn’t have been the first time a lawyer acted in an unethical way to get their client out of trouble. His wife? How would he have explained his desire to make evidence disappear if he was as innocent as he claimed? He started to discount that option, then stopped. Humphries could’ve convinced her they had framed him to cover up their incompetence.
Looking at all avenues meant Royce would need to request copies of the visitor log and check out every single person who met with Humphries behind bars. From there, he could request security camera footage for any names he couldn’t match to a face. But first, he needed to know more about B. Parker, the courier who delivered their evidence on the day in question.
“How familiar are you with the couriers?” Royce asked.
“Very,” Tobias said. “These laboratories are very careful who they hire for that position, and turnover isn’t common. It’s usually the same three fellas who pick up and return evidence.”
“And this B. Parker? Had you seen him before that day?”
“Her,” Tobias corrected. “It was the first time I’d ever laid eyes onher. Pretty little thing, but it was odd, and I even remarked on it. I told her it wasn’t often I meet a new driver. She just chuckled and said it was her first time driving that route. She claimed one of their drivers was out on vacation and another was sick, so they were stretched thin with extra pickups. There was nothing out of the ordinary about her demeanor, uniform, badge, or paperwork. The transaction was smooth and effortless like she’d been doing it a long time.”
“Did IA have you work with a sketch artist?” Royce asked.