Above the left wrist on the inside were four one-centimeter wide bruises. One larger, and three adjacent, in a vertical row. It looked as though the killer had grabbed the left arm. What she was looking at were a thumb and three finger marks. There were no grazes or bruises to the wrists themselves.

"Was there any damage to her left shoulder?"

Kate sorted through some papers on her desk. "She had a bruised, torn pectoralis muscle according to the report. The pathologist is sending his summary later on today. What are you thinking?"

Anya stood up and pushed the chair away. Shaun Wheeler looked up from his desk and put down his phone.

"Can I borrow you for a minute?" Anya asked.

He nodded and stood. "What do you w-w-want me to do?"

"Kneel down on the floor."

The young detective forced a laugh and then realized she wasn't kidding. He was quickly on two bended knees. Anya moved behind him while Kate watched. By now they had the attention of most of the Homicide staff.

"She came home, opened the security screen, then front door. The briefcase was in her left hand, and the house keys in her right. She put the briefcase down, and that meant that hand was free. Somehow she was either pushed or ordered to her knees. Any bruising or grazes there?"

Kate flicked through some more printed photos. "There was a hole in one stocking at the knee. And a small bruise over each kneecap, probably from the wooden floor."

"Okay, she either bent down, maybe to greet the cat, or was pushed down." She cautiously took hold of Wheeler's left arm and wrapped her thumb and first three fingers above the wrist. Her fingers were in virtually the same position as the bruises on the body.

"The killer has come up behind her, grabbed the arm and, to tear her shoulder muscle, has to have pulled the wrist up behind her back."

"It's like a half-nelson," the male detective said, his left hand behind his shoulder blades.

"From there the killer could have easily forced her to her knees," Kate said, "which explains where the bullet was found if her head was low when she was shot. There was another bruise on the left side, above the ear."

Anya deduced, "She didn't put her hands out to protect herself when she fell forward, or they would have shown marks like the knees did. It looks like someone had control of her and she had no chance to react. There was no time to drop the keys or reach for the Mace."

The thought of protection being so close made Natasha's murder more difficult to accept. If only she had reached for the pepper spray in time.

Then Anya remembered what they had talked about the night of Giverny's death. No regrets, no what if's or if only's. It was how the prosecutor lived her life.

With Wheeler under her control, Anya shoved her right index finger into the back of his head. At the same time she released his left arm with a forward push and he toppled forward, putting his right arm out to protect himself.

Kate sat forward, hands on her knees. "So was she hit in the head with the gun at any stage? Could the killer have stunned her first?"

"I don't think so. That bruise above the ear could have happened when she hit the ground. Without her arms out in front, she would have just toppled forward."

Wheeler stood up and wiped the knees of his trousers. The phone on his desk rang and he moved to answer it.

Kate spun the chair around and straddled the seat, leaning her elbows on the backrest. "She was executed. No evidence of robbery or sexual interference. The briefcase was untouched as far as we know. This was a targeted killing."

A minute later Wheeler came back, like a new puppy with a toy he'd retrieved.

"Just had a call from a neighbor. He left for a night shift around 9:45 P.M. and saw a man with a hat and coat on outside Ryder's house. He f-f-forgot something so drove around the block. He s-s-saw the man a couple of houses down, looking like he was waiting. He did some shopping and met some friends for lunch before c-c-coming back home this morning, which is why he's only just called."

"Description?" Kate sat straight, ignoring Wheeler's intermittent stutter. It was the worst they had heard it, probably a reflection of his stress levels.

"Average height, overweight, about a hundred and twenty kilos. Big b-belly was what he remembered most."

Liz Gould entered the office and threw down a satchel.

"Doesn't fit with any of the Harbourns or their known associates. Can you check out the neighbor's movements last night? Make sure he really did go to work."

"What about the description? It's our first real lead."

Kate rubbed her eyes. "Let's put out a public appeal for this person of interest to come forward and assist us with our inquiries, the usual. The killer could have lived close. That might explain why no one else saw him or her."

Anya hoped that all possibilities were being considered. Police tunnel vision limiting suspects could mean the chances of catching the killer diminished with each hour.

"What about a stalker? She had daily contact with dysfunctional and disturbed people."

"Her and anyone who works with the public," Liz added. "Try working with security company employees, they're a breed all of their own." She sat, pulled off her shoes and rubbed her feet.

"Find anything useful?" Kate wanted to know.

"Doesn't look like a stalker. I just got back from viewing the court tapes. Ryder's been in court the past couple of days and cameras didn't catch anyone hanging around or following her. Same with the bank footage of the street near where she lives. When she appeared, no one was close or visible, let alone someone with a large belly."

The detectives were all under pressure to make a quick arrest, pressure from politicians, the police commissioner and the Director of Public Prosecutions, not to mention the public and media.

Liz dug her fingers into the soles of her feet. "Unless ballistics turn up the gun and it's got the killer's name all over it, we're pushing a waterfall uphill and all we've got is a toothpick."

35.

Anya phoned Martin who sounded relieved that she was all right and even appeared sympathetic about the situation. Whatever Hayden had told Martin was clearly reassuring. Ben was safe and happy. She checked her messages on Kate's computer and downloaded the articles on genetic criminality. Maybe there was something in there that could help the police, or help in the Harbourn trial.

She had to do something or she would feel completely useless. This felt just like one of her times in casualty, when a car accident involved a drunk driver hitting a family with four young kids. Despite working on them all night, none of the family survived. The drunk driver walked away uninjured.

Doctors and nurses stayed in casualty for hours after their shifts had finished, not just to help with the backlog of patients. No one wanted to go home and deal with the emotional fallout of the deaths alone.

Zimmer wandered into Homicide. "Crime scene's pretty clean. Our killer doesn't want to be found."

Anya thought that didn't sound like the Harbourns. Getting caught didn't seem to faze them, particularly if avoiding detection meant more work and less impulse. Maybe Noelene was the brains in the organization after all.

Kate rummaged through her desk for something, ignoring Zimmer.

"McNab is about to go over the casing and the bullet. Thought you'd want to be there."

Kate found the item she had been searching for-a pack of Lifesaver lollies. "You need to ask?"

"Hey, I'm a gentleman." Zimmer turned to Anya. "Why are you still around? Can't bear to be away from us beautiful people?"

"Something like that." Truth was, she was waiting for Kate to take her home to get some toiletries and clothes before staying at her place for protection. Knowing Kate, she wouldn't leave until she'd run out of calls to make or leads to chase that day.

Kate headed straight for the stairwell. Anya and Zimmer followed.

As they entered the firearms lab, Zimmer chatted while Anya did her best to disguise how puffed she was.

"How are the drum lessons going?"

"They're not. I've been away and now I'm just too busy."

"Maybe I'll just have to bring my sax over so we can play some time."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Hello? Gagging over here."

Zimmer looked wounded. "I'm serious. I play in a jazz band. Anya knows that. We've been trying to get her to jam with us for ages."

Anya grinned and nodded.

Kate ignored him.

The firearms expert, Nick McNab hung up the phone in his glass office and joined everyone in the lab. He pulled on a white coat and did up the only two buttons that met in the middle.

"Thanks for coming, I know what this case means to everyone here. Guess you'd like to see what we've got."

They moved around a stereoscopic microscope connected to a television on a mobile stand.

"It's easier if I show you." Doctor McNab focused the microscope and showed a cartridge case. "This was found at the scene. The humble case is often overlooked in assisting with identification of a weapon. Most of the markings are found on the closed end, where the primer is located. A crater forms when the firing pin is struck by the hammer and forced into the primer."

He moved an arrow and pointed to the base. "As you can see, this has a few distinct markings. The breech markings occur when the case is pushed back against the breech block by the burning gases. As we have here, in a semiautomatic, extractor markings and ejector markings are left on the rim. We can also look for markings left by the magazine lip on the side of the case."

Anya watched the screen, unsure of exactly what marks she was seeing. "The eye of faith" was what her mother called it when a group of experts nodded about seeing something at the same time. Odds were, she wasn't alone in not being able to understand what McNab described.

"Can you point out what exactly we're looking at?"

Kate could always be trusted to get to the point quickly.

"Nick's just saying there are a couple of different impressions made on the head of the case. The firing pin marks on impact, and through recoil when the base is forced back against the breech block. By the way, this is a rim fire."

McNab looked up from the microscope. "That's what I said, except for the rim fire bit at the end."

Zimmer put his hands up, "Sorry, just making sure we're all on the same page."

Kate stood, hands in pockets. "Can you identify the make and model from these markings?"

"This is from a .22 caliber semiautomatic. From what John says, it was a hand gun."

"What about the bullet in the wall?"

McNab sighed and swiveled on his chair. "Not much left of it, I'm afraid it's only a fragment. I can tell you it was a hollow point, but there was something odd we found. It had wheel-bearing grease on its nose."

Kate glanced up at Zimmer. "When I was a kid, my father used to use hollow points to cull rabbits."

"The structure facilitates expansion on contact," McNab explained, "thereby killing the animal more quickly."

"What's the wheel grease for?" Anya asked, having not encountered it before.

"It's new to me too," said Zimmer. "I don't know the significance."

Kate rubbed her temple. "It may or may not be relevant, but my dad used to put a smear of vaseline on the tips of his bullets. I remember because I used to help. Reason was, he said it made the bullets pass faster through the barrel."

"Grease has a higher melting point than water, so it would accentuate the concept of the bullet expanding, like a ramming device, you could say."

"Isn't that what I said?" Kate whispered to Anya.

"So, whoever shot Natasha had knowledge of guns and was probably a hunter?"

"Or just grew up on a farm like I did," Kate added. "If that's the case, the choice of weapon doesn't sit right."

"Go on, Detective," McNab folded his arms in anticipation.

"We all know the .22 is fairly easy to come by. Sporting shooters, armed robbers, security men and every wannabe crook has one. Hell, before we heard of corruption, police used them as fit-up guns."

"Those were the days," Zimmer put his thumbs over his belt and rocked on his heels, "when you could shoot some bastard, then fire the fit-up gun and whack it into his dead hand. No doubt about it, any judge would rule self-defense every time. Yep, those were the good old days."

Kate smacked his arm with the back of her hand. "This is serious. A .22 isn't exactly sniper material. It's a huge risk, having to get so close to be accurate, especially if the target's mobile. I wouldn't even use one for self-defense."

McNab suggested, "Maybe the shooter wanted Natasha Ryder to know who killed her. Maybe he deliberately went that close. I mean, if it was personal."

Zimmer became somber again. "Or could be our shooter doesn't care if he gets caught."

With that, discussion halted. Anya and Kate seemed to have the same thought. The Harbourns not only had reason to dislike the prosecutor, but were not afraid of the legal consequences. They acted as if they were above the law. Even so, it still wasn't their style. Unless they had hired a professional this time to remove Natasha from the trial.

Noelene had plenty of seedy connections and Natasha had been involved in prosecutions against the family before. This time the stakes were higher than ever. They had a lot to lose.

If the killer were someone else, the Harbourns had definitely benefited. Luck didn't seem to be something that followed the family around.

"Nick, everything okay?" Zimmer appeared concerned.

McNab uncrossed his arms. "Something just doesn't sit right. There's something familiar about these cartridge markings that's bothering me. Let's run it through our database. If it matches anything, we'll know in a couple of hours."

Kate headed toward the door. "Thanks, and call me any time. No such thing as too late."

The trio exited the laboratory and walked the two flights back to Homicide.

"Wheeler found out that Noelene Harbourn's brother has a farm west of here-the one where we found the list. Apparently the boys would go up and shoot foxes and rabbits on weekends. Maybe we should go up there with a metal detector and check it out."

"Did they keep weapons out there?" It was a long shot but if they had killed Natasha maybe the murder weapon was hidden there.

"No such luck. They wised up. Those guns we found in the wall of their house were from a robbery. They probably sold the rest on the black market or have another stash somewhere."