3am

Chapter 7

I am in shock. I stare in awe at the drawing, my mind running a hundred miles an hour. Chief among my concerns is why the killer placed a drawing of the man in the moon inside the suit jacket instead of tattooing it on the victim. Nothing about this case is making sense anymore. The only consistency we have is the method of killing and the powder blue suit. Neither of the victims match a type beyond young and male. The bodies weren't found in the same area. In fact, we found the victims at opposite ends of the city. The one thing I thought for sure was a signature, the tattoo on John Doe #1, wasn't repeated on John Doe #2. In fact, if my gut wasn't telling me this was the work of one person, I would swear we just had the evil luck of two domestics being posed like the original Field Strangler.

After I get my brain back into working order, I ask Sharon to tell me about the drawing. "Well," she begins, turning the evidence bag toward her, "it looks like a pen and ink drawing."

"A what and what?" I ask, my mind not comprehending her words.

"A pen and ink," Sharon repeats patiently. "It is a style of art made with just a pen and ink. The most common kind is black ink on white paper. But some artists incorporate other colors, most notably brown or sepia colors. The technique is fairly straight-forward. An artist lightly sketches his or her design with a pencil and then goes over the lines with a pen. Serious artists will have multiple types of pens and various nib sizes, but I've seen some artists make incredibly detailed drawings with a single pen."

"Wait, what are nibs?" I ask.

"Nibs are the points on pens where the ink flows out on to the paper. They come in different sizes, which alters the thickness of the line drawn with them. Some draw really thick lines-think cartoon bushy eyebrows- while others can draw extremely thin lines." Sharon explains.

"Is there any way to determine what kind of pen, or pens, made this drawing?" I ask.

"I am afraid not," Sharon replies with a shake of her head. "If you found a pen on a suspect, I could try to match the ink and line thickness to the drawing, but even that isn't even guaranteed to work. And even if I made a tentative match, that only means that the drawing was made with a pen of the same design. Unless it is a unique, one of a kind pen, there are probably dozens, if not hundreds or thousands, of the same pen in existence. A defense attorney would have an absolute field day with those odds. You know that as well as I do."

"Yeah," I concede. "You are right about that. So there is no way to match any part of this drawing to a specific pen? Without the pen being unique and one of a kind, I mean."

"Well..." Sharon begins. "Truth be told, when I was examining the drawing, I noticed a small section that a pen with a broken nib made..."

"So if I found that pen, you might be able to match it to the drawing?" I ask, excited.

"It is possible," Sharon concedes. "The broken nib caused the ink in the pen to alternately dry up and spurt out. So there are some unique stops and starts that maybe-and I cannot stress this enough-maybe could be matched back to the broken nib."

I am smart enough to read between the lines of her comment. Namely, that even if I find the pen, even if she can match the pen to the drawing, that she would not stake her reputation on the match at trial. And a defense attorney would have an easy time introducing reasonable doubt into the minds of the jurors for that bit of evidence. It only takes one weak link to destroy a prosecution's case. Once, a defendant was acquitted because the defense raised enough reasonable doubt about a piece of fiber evidence that the whole jury ended up doubting ALL the evidence. It's not common, but it happens. And sticking Sharon on the stand to testify to the probability of a specific pen being the one to create a part of the drawing is just not good sense.

So instead of pursuing the pen and ink evidence, I need to focus on the drawing itself. Something tells me that this image is personal to the killer. Why else would he go to the trouble of tattooing it on the first victim and drawing it on a piece of paper that was left with victim #2? And the song. I feel really sure it is connected to the killer in some way. How, I don't know just yet. But I make a mental note to look up the history of both the song and the image.

Just not tonight. As Sharon gives me a small run-down of the rest of the evidence, they have from victim #2; I fight to stifle a yawn. A surreptitious glance at my watch confirms my suspicions. It's almost a quarter to ten at night. After wrapping up with Sharon, I make my way back to the front of the CSI wing. Lucky for me, Sampson is nowhere in sight. I ease my way out of the CSI department and dash down the hall to the elevator. I ride the empty elevator up to the third floor, where I secure my desk and clock out for the night. Then it is back down in the elevator to the main floor. I bid good night to the overnight sergeant on desk duty and slip out to the private lot. As I approach my car, I notice something fluttering in the gentle breeze on my windshield. It is a slip of paper and written on it is little boy dressed in blue... Do you know the man in the moon...? When are you going to save me and bring me home...? I'm sorry I ever chose to roam."