Page 59 of The Bone Code
“Herrin tells me her office sent you DNA results.”
“They did.”
“And?”
“I’m running them.”
“And?”
“And nothing. So far, no hits, local, state, or national. Still zero reports of missing kids matching the descriptors you gave me.”
“You went back five years?”
“We’ve been over this.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“Since Wednesday?”
You sat on the DNA. I didn’t say it. “I have profiles on my vics up here.”
Vislosky didn’t respond to that.
“The woman and the child are related.”
“To each other?”
“Yes.”
“Big whoop.”
“Big whoop?” Working very hard not to lose my temper.
“What did you expect? Your perp grabbed some random chick and some random kid and stuffed them into a barrel together? No shit they’re related.”
I couldn’t disagree. But I detested Vislosky’s arrogance. And her Lone Ranger act.
“Did you follow through on the barnacles?”
“There’s a marine biologist at the College of Charleston says he’ll take a run at simulations.”
“Narrowing time since death could help.”
“Could.”
“Or knowing where the container spent time.”
“The guy’s not optimistic.”
“Keep me in the loop.”
“Uh-huh.”
And then I waited again.
Willoughby sent me her full report late Tuesday afternoon. As she’d pointed out, forensic labs can legally profile designated portions of an individual’s genome. But only law enforcement can run those profiles through the various DNA databases that exist.
After talking to Willoughby, I’d dialed a familiar number at SQ headquarters. Detective Yves Trout listened to me, clearly impatient, then promised action on my container case only when and if time allowed.
