Danny could be a magnificent pain in the ass. He viewed it as one of his finest qualities.
Sheldon didn't, which was why he let Danny run the program.
"Okay," Danny said, cracking his knuckles as he sat down at the ergonomic keyboard that Mac insisted on them using. He hated the stupid things, but every time he complained, Mac would e-mail him multiple studies on repetitive stress injuries until Danny shut up. Mac could also be a magnificent pain in the ass when he put his mind to it, only he was more subtle about it.
Danny didn't do subtle. It wasted too much energy.
First he called up the autopsy records for Malik Washburne and entered it into the CAD program. Immediately, an image of a generic male human figure of Washburne's height, weight, and build appeared on all three monitors in front of him. Then he created a second, identical image.
Sheldon had his full report from the crime scene, and he read out the dimensions of the weight bench, the barbell, and the doughnut weights that were on it. The crime-scene photos placed everything, including the doughnut weights that were on the barbell and the one on the ground.
"Hang on," Danny said. "Why would the weight be on the ground?"
"That's where we found it," Sheldon said.
"Yeah, but why would Washburne have an uneven number of weights?"
"Dunno, but let's start with it there and see where it goes."
"Yeah." He placed everything where it belonged, putting one of the Washburne figures on the weight bench in the standard position and the other one where the body lay, based on Sheldon's photos.
Next they had to enter more precise information. Danny created another generic male figure. "Where'd you find the thread on Washburne's body from the guy's pants?"
Sheldon reached over and grabbed the mouse.
"Hey! Who's doing this?" Danny protested.
"I could take half an hour to explain it, or I could just point the damn mouse," Sheldon said with a good-natured grin.
Sighing dramatically, Danny leaned back and said, "Fine, fine, steal my thunder."
Shaking his head, Sheldon said, "You are such a geek."
"Yeah, bite me, Doc."
Once Sheldon clicked on the spot where they found the thread, Danny gently pushed him out of the way and started entering in the trajectory he needed the second figure to take in order to leave the thread.
"Now for the real important question-how hard does he have to hit in order to knock Washburne onto the floor?"
"Average foot speed for someone walking is three miles an hour," Sheldon said. "Well, actually, it's between two-point-eight and three-point-two miles an hour, but we should start with that."
"You know that off the top of your head, but I'm the geek?"
"Absolutely," Sheldon deadpanned.
Danny chuckled. "That's probably too slow, but you're right, it's a good start." He entered three miles per hour and had the second body walk in such a way that his left hip (where the seam was) would hit Washburne in the right spot in the shoulder.
The figure moved across the screen, and Washburne barely budged.
Sheldon rubbed his chin. "If he was reacting to Barker getting stabbed, he probably wasn't walking at a leisurely pace."
"Didn't I say that?" Danny asked with a cheeky grin. "Let's make it eight."
"I was thinking ten," Sheldon said.
"Well, you're the expert on foot speed," Danny said dryly, "but that weight yard wasn't that big, and it was filled to capacity. Even if he was motorin', he wasn't gonna be able to go much more than eight."
Tilting his head to the side, Sheldon said, "Yeah, okay, let's go with eight."
"Glad you approve."
"Hey, this is my half of the case. You got the dunker, remember?"
"Oh yeah, exciting stuff. The guy confessed, and I got prints on the murder weapon that matched the guy who confessed. Wasn't exactly breakin' my brain, y'know? Flack may like the dunkers, but me? I like a challenge."
"That why you chased Lindsay to Montana?" Sheldon was grinning as he said that. "What's happening with you two anyhow?"
"We're friends and colleagues," was all Danny would say, not wanting to give Sheldon the satisfaction of sharing gossip, especially when the gossip was about him. After a rocky start, Danny and Lindsay Monroe's relationship had taken a turn for the better ever since he took personal time and flew out to Bozeman to lend moral support when Lindsay testified against Kadems.
But Danny was still pissed that he was the last to know about Mac and Dr. Driscoll, so he intended to keep everyone in the dark as long as he could get away with it.
"Okay," he said, dragging them back to the subject at hand, "eight miles an hour. Let's see what we got."
This time the second figure collided with Washburne hard enough to knock the body off the bench. He hit his head on the edge of the barbell and fell to the ground, but not in a position that matched that of the second Washburne.
Sheldon was shaking his head. "That doesn't work. The body's in the wrong place-and even if you figure it's been moved, or we got a variable wrong, there's also the fact that there's no blood on the barbell, and the barbell couldn't have caused that wound in the first place."
"Yeah, but look at the placement." Danny pointed at the spot on the barbell where Washburne's head had hit in the second simulation. "Let's try putting the weight where it's supposed to be, on the end of the barbell." Using the mouse, Danny moved it from the ground to that spot.
He ran the sim again, at the same speed. Again the second figure hit Washburne. Again Washburne hit his head on the barbell and fell in the wrong spot.
"Move the weight," Sheldon said. "Maybe they weren't on evenly."
Nodding, Danny shifted the weight so it would be right where Washburne's head hit. Again he ran it at eight miles per hour.
Washburne hit this time, but in the wrong place on his head, and he didn't fall to the ground anywhere near the second Washburne.
"I'll make him go faster. Guy just got shivved, I bet he's runnin'. 'Sides, the faster he goes, the more likely there is to be that thread transfer."
Sheldon shrugged. "Fair enough. Worth a shot, anyhow."
Upping it to eleven miles an hour, Danny ran it again. This time Washburne's head hit the spot between two of the weights, so he moved the weight back to its first position and ran it again.
This time, not only did Washburne's head hit the weight in the right spot, but the weight fell off in the right spot and Washburne's body fell in the same location as the second body. It wasn't a one hundred percent matchup, but it was close enough to establish that that was likely what had happened.
"So that's it," Sheldon said. "Washburne's throat closes up. He can't call for help, and he dies on the bench. Mulroney stabs Barker. Everyone in the yard comes running to see what's going on, and one of them bumps Washburne, transferring a fiber to his shoulder and knocking him into the weight, which causes the wound and also knocks the weight to the ground."
Danny nodded. "Only one problem-how'd Melendez's print get on the weight?"
"He probably used the weight. Hell, so many people touched that thing, the print hit was always going to be circumstantial just by virtue of Melendez being one of the people in the yard. He had every reason to touch it."
"Yeah." Danny saved the latest simulation to the folder for the report on the Washburne-Barker double homicide. Another advantage of the CAD program was that it recorded all the information that had been entered, so it could be used in court. Danny wasn't sure how useful this would be, or even if the case would go to trial-with anaphylactic shock as the COD, it was more than likely there was no murderer to try-but the file still needed to be complete.