Double-Edged Detective

The backhanded compliment earned a reluctant laugh from his brother. Ryker’s desk phone rang. “Hey, kid. I gotta go. Work calls.”

“Guess I won’t see you until the party, then. Bye.”

Ryker hung up his cell phone and picked up his desk phone’s handset.

It was Dave. “Ryker. I’ve got something for you.”

“I’ll be right there.” He sped over to the lab and ran to the autopsy room.

“Whoa!” Dave said as Ryker slammed open the door. “There’s no fire here.”

“Sorry. What’ve you got?”

“Take a look at this.” Dave pointed to a white elongated carving that lay on an exam table.

Ryker’s heart thumped when he saw it. It was the casting of the knife wound. Although the casting didn’t look like any knife Ryker had ever seen, he knew from the look on Dave’s face that he’d come to a conclusion about the knife that had been used to stab Jean Terry.

“Well?” Ryker said, not even trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“From the shape of the casting, and the appearance of the wound, I’d say the knife’s blade is around five and a half to six inches long. It has a curved return and a tapered bolster. I’d be willing to bet the blade is flexible, based on the shape of the wound.”

“Return? Bolster?”

Dave grinned. “Yeah. I suddenly developed a need to know a lot about knives. If you’re so sure you’ve got a serial killer on your hands, I want to make sure I don’t miss anything that might help you prove it.” He pulled up a diagram on his computer. “Here’s a breakdown of the parts of a knife. See there? The return is basically the end of the blade. The bolster is a collar that joins the blade with the handle.”

“So what does all that mean? Can you identify the knife?”

“If I had a knife, I could tell you how it compares to the knife that was used. I will say, in the short amount of time I’ve had to do research, I’ve concluded that the knife used to kill your victim was a boning knife.”

“A boning knife?”

Dave nodded. “Usually used by chefs to debone meat. The blade can be stiff or flexible. This one was flexible.”

Ryker’s pulse pounded in his head. “This could be it.” He clasped Dave’s shoulder and shook his hand. “This might be my break. If that wound was made with a chef’s knife, it could be the knife that he took from Nicole.”

“Nicole?”

“Nicole Beckham. Last year’s victim. She’s a chef. The killer was scared off by her roommate, but he got away with one of her knives. I don’t know which one.”