‘Blood on the hammer, let there be blood on the hammer,’ thought Annie as she inserted her police ID card in the slot then walked through the sliding doors that led to the forensic lab next door. When it came right down to it, a bloody hammer was what mattered most right now, not the half-baked theories of some airy-fairy psychological profiler, despite what Banks seemed to think. He clearly still fancied Jenny Fuller; that was obvious enough to all and sundry. Whatever had remained dormant all those years, since before her time, had certainly come back to life. She just hoped he didn’t embarrass himself. In Annie’s view, Dr Fuller was in all likelihood a high-maintenance prick-teaser with an inflated opinion of herself.
As usual, Annie was impressed by the pristine appearance of the lab and all its inhabitants, buzzing around in their Persil-white coats. She had no idea what the various machines that sat on the benches and desks actually did, but she respected the results they spat out.
The lab was open plan for the most part, though some of its most sensitive equipment was housed in special rooms or chambers, and Annie found Jazz Singh in her cubbyhole staring at a large computer screen full of strange dots and coloured lines, as far as Annie could see.
‘Good timing,’ Jazz said, keeping her eyes on the screen. ‘Just about time for a coffee break. Join me?’
‘Of course.’ Annie realised that Jazz, short for Jasminder, must have seen her reflection on the screen.
The lab had a decent Nespresso machine, like Banks’s office, and Jazz and Annie walked over, made their drinks and went into the common room. A couple of other members of the department sat around reading the newspapers or poring over laptops, and people mumbled their greetings. Jazz and Annie took a corner table with two comfortable orange chairs.
‘The ballpeen hammer, right?’ Jazz said.
‘That’s the one. Any luck?’
‘Well, I’d hardly call it luck, myself,’ Jazz said. ‘More like the application of consummate skill of the blood specialist.’
Annie laughed.
‘But I don’t expect you want a lesson in the science of blood detection, do you?’ Jazz went on.
‘Only if you think it’ll help.’
‘Help you appreciate my skills more?’
‘Jazz, I couldn’t appreciate your skills any more than I do already. You know that. Now give.’
‘OK. Naturally, the first problem is to determine whether there’s any blood present at all. That hammer had been well washed and wiped. Second, it’s then important to discover whether it’s human or animal blood. And finally, while you’re doing all that, you have to be damn careful you don’t contaminate the sample so much that you can no longer determine whose blood it is, should you need to do so.’
‘That makes sense,’ said Annie.
‘It’s science,’ said Jazz. ‘Logic. Reason. Of course it makes sense.’
‘Like the Higgs boson and Schrödinger’s cat?’
Jazz laughed. ‘They make perfectly good sense, too, if you have a bit of patience.’
‘So in this case?’
‘In this case I used good old Luminol. Favourite of CSI and a thousand other cop shows because it lights up nicely when it comes into contact with blood. But you have to be careful not to overuse it on the entire stain, which is rather difficult when you can’t see the stain, or the reaction could destroy any sample needed for further analysis. I used very effective masking, and the area I sprayed came up positive.’
‘For human blood?’
‘For blood. The only problem is that Luminol can also give false results. It can light up on certain plant enzymes, and even metals. But you can usually tell by the colour and kind of luminescence what you’re dealing with. Blood doesn’t sparkle, for example, and it gives a steadier, longer glow.’
‘OK,’ said Annie. ‘I think I get it. We have blood. What next.’
Jazz took a hit of espresso. ‘Mm, that’s good. After getting a positive human antigen-antibody test, which isn’t always the case with invisible stains, I think I can safely say that we have human blood.’
Annie clapped her hands together.
‘This was mostly around the region of the ball and the top of the shaft. It’s almost impossible to wash every trace of blood from that area where the head and shaft join. There are also minuscule cracks in wood that trap blood, though they render it invisible to the human eye.’
‘So we’ve cracked it? Edgeworth was hit with the hammer?’
‘Don’t jump to conclusions. The blood on the hammer is consistent with Edgeworth’s blood group, but that’s all I can tell you right now.’ Jazz looked at her watch. ‘It’ll be a few hours before the PCR DNA results are available, and I’ll probably need another hour or more to interpret and compare the results. Say if you call back around five or six I might have something more positive for you.’
‘Thanks,’ said Annie, standing up to leave. ‘I think I can manage to wait that long. And I appreciate your coming in on a weekend.’
‘It happens more often than you think,’ said Jazz. ‘We get behind. I had a batch to run and it’s a good time to catch up with my paperwork while I’m waiting. Plays havoc with my social life, though. And talking about that, five will be around my knocking-off time today, so you can buy me a drink in appreciation of all my sacrifices and tell me how wonderful I am.’
‘OK,’ she said. ‘You’re on. Five o’clock it is.’
‘Thanks for that, Alan,’ Jenny said as soon as the others had left the snug. ‘She hates me.’
‘She doesn’t hate you,’ said Banks. ‘You’re the new girl on the team, that’s all.’
‘Girl?’
‘They’re all saying it these days. Book titles and all. That woman on the train was far from being a girl.’
‘Are you saying I’m too old to be a girl?’
‘I... I...’
Jenny laughed. ‘You’re too easy to bait, Alan. But as for DI Cabbot being “an old friend of yours”, come on, give. Did you two have a thing?’
Banks sighed. ‘Once,’ he said. ‘Briefly. A long time ago. After Sandra and I split up. We decided that work and dating didn’t mix.’
‘Very wise of you, I’m sure.’
‘Seriously, Jenny. Give her a chance. She’s a good cop and a good person. She’s just a bit insecure, that’s all, and she can be abrasive.’
‘Insecure? Abrasive? I’d say the ropes have just about pulled away from the moorings.’
‘It’s not that bad.’
Jenny took a few deep breaths then seemed to relax and smile. ‘I don’t know how you manage to do it,’ she said.
‘Do what?’
‘See the good in everyone after so long on the job.’
‘It’s not that,’ Banks protested. ‘I know my team. Strengths and weaknesses.’
‘And do you know me?’
‘Not any more, apparently.’
‘Oh, don’t be such a sensitive bastard. I’m only teasing. Remember that?’
Banks dredged up a weak smile. ‘I remember.’
‘Besides, I haven’t changed that much.’
‘Come off it. We both have. We’ve already discussed that. A lot’s happened.’
‘I’m not so sure about that. You’ve become a bit more grumpy, true, but I don’t think people change all that much, deep down.’
‘We learn nothing from experience?’
‘Well, it certainly seems that mankind learns nothing from history, so why should individuals learn anything from their own experience?’
‘I’m no expert, but that sounds like spurious logic to me.’
Jenny wrinkled her nose. ‘It is,’ she said. ‘Rhetoric, to make a point. I know we shouldn’t, driving and all, but do you fancy another pint? It’s quite cosy in here, and I don’t much like the idea of hurrying home to an empty house so soon.’