ABSOLUTE POWER By: DAVID BALDACCI

Using a petroleum-based solvent probably made it worse. That’s probably

why they ended up snipping out pieces.”

“So presumably the perp takes the fibers because they show something. Do

they?”

“Not on the sample I got, but he might have cut around the area just to

make sure he didn’t miss anything and we got one of the clean

specimens.”

“What would be on the carpet that someone would go to the trouble of

cutting one-centimeter fibers out? It must’ve been a pain ‘in the ass.”

Both Simon and Frank had the same thought and indeed had it for several

moments.

“Blood,” Simon said simply.

“And not the deceased’s either. If I remember correctly, hers wasn’t

anywhere near that spot.” Frank added, “I think you got one more test to

run, Laura.”

She hooked a kit off the wall. “I was just getting ready to go do it,

thought I’d better buzz you first.”

“Smart girl-,”

THE DRIVE OUT TOOK THIRTY minutes. FRANK ROLLED DOWN his window and let

the wind course over his face. It also helped dispel the cigarette

smoke. Simon was constantly giving him a hard time about that.

The bedroom had remained sealed under Frank’s orders.

Frank watched from the corner of Walter Sullivan’s bedfoom as Simon

carefully mixed the bottles of chemicals and then poured the result into

a plastic sprayer. Frank then helped her stuff towels under the door and

tape brown packing paper to the windows. They closed the heavy drapes,

cutting out virtually all traces of natural light.

Frank surveyed the room once again. He looked at the mirror, the bed,

the window, the closets and then his eyes rested on the nightstand and

at the gaping hole behind where the plaster had been removed. Then his

eyes moved back to the picture. He picked’it up. He was reminded again

that Christine Sullivan had been a very beautiful woman, as far removed

as one could get from the destroyed hulk he had viewed. In the

photograph she was sitting in the chair beside the bed. ‘1The nightstand

was clearly visible to her’left. The corner of the bed made its way into

the right side of the picture. Ironically so, considering all the use

she had probably made of that particular vehicle. The springs were

probably due for their sixty-thousand-mile checkup. After that, they

probably wouldn’t have much to do. He remembered the look on Walter

Sullivan’s face. Not much left there.

He put the photo down and continued to observe Simon’s fluid movements.

He glanced back at the photo, something bothering him, but whatever it

was popped out of his head as quickly as it had sprung into it.

“What’s that stuff called again, Laura?”

“LAiminol. It’s sold under a variety of names, but it’s the same reagent

stuff. I’m ready.”

She positioned the bottle over the section of carpet where the fibers

had been cut from.

“Good thing you don’t have to pay for this carpet.” The detective smiled

at her.

Simon turned to look at him. ‘Wouldn’t matter to me. I’d just declare

bankruptcy. They could garnishee my wages from here until eternity. It’s

the poor person’s great equalizer.”

Frank hit the light, plunging the room into pitch-black darkness.

Swishes of air were heard as Simon squeezed the trigger on the spray

bottle. Almost immediately, like a mass of lightning bugs, a very small

portion of the carpet started to glow a pale blue and then disappeared.

Frank turned on the overhead light and looked at Simon.

“So we got somebody else’s blood. Helluva pickup, Laura.

Any way you can scrape up enough to analyze, get a blood type? DNA

typing?”

Simon looked dubious. “We’ll pull the carpet to see if any leaked

through, but I doubt it. Not much soaks into a treated carpet. And any

residue has been mixed with a lot of stuff.

So don’t count on it.”

Frank thought out loud. “Okay, one perp wounded. Not a lot of blood, but

some.” He looked for confirmation from Simon on that point and received

an affirmative nod of the head. “Wounded, but with what? She had

nothing in her hand when we found her.”

Simon read his mind. “And as sudden as her death was, we’re probably

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