Grimms 105

By celticman
- 1713 reads
The forensic expert, Mr Cleary, wears a baggy brown cardigan with bulky pockets he jams his fists into. He shadows the Macer, but is smaller, hitting the heights of barely five- feet. He seems to take little notice of his surroundings, head bowed, sweep of hair, a cow’s lick over a high pale forehead, eyes grazing the ground as if diligently searching for latent fingerprints somebody else has missed and he might stumble over.
When he is sworn in his voice is no more than a whisper that reaches the second row. Judge Brodie is so used to him appearing in the court circuit, he takes a distant paternal interest and no longer asks him to speak up. The presence, or absence, of a fingerprint at a crime scene is rarely disputed.
The defence QC stands quietly before the court. He points at the evidence table where a tagged Irn-Bru bottle with a dark liquid at the bottom sits. ‘Is that the bottle found in Karen Orr’s house that were dusted for fingerprints?’
‘Yes,’ says Cleary.
Barclay leans forward, ‘then presumably with all that poisoning her fingerprints would be all over the bottle?’
‘No,’ mumbles Cleary.
A hand is held over the defence QC’s right ear, mimicking an old-fashioned ear trumpet and he turns to Grier, but it is the judges ‘hrummph’ which is most audible under the vaulted ceiling. Barclay acts shocked. ‘You didn’t find the defendant’s fingerprints on the Irn Bru bottle. Then whose fingerprints did you find?’
‘We found a smudged fingerprint,’ admits Cleary. ‘But we were not able to match it to any on record.’
Montrose stands up to speak. ‘Could this smudged fingerprint have been Karen Orr’s?’
‘Nothing is ever taken for granted.’ Cleary perks up and becomes more confident. ‘Little has changed since the time of Sir Francis Galton. What we are looking at is individuation in a ten-point pattern of ridges and whorls. There are a set of criteria for a match and a protocol which we strictly follow.’ Judge Brodie yawns and Cleary stops talking to look up at him before continuing. ‘So what I’m trying to say is even with the probability of error factored in, and taken as a given, I can say with some certainty that the smudged print is not Karen Orr’s.
‘There’s no doubt then?’ Barclay strikes a pose for the jury. ‘That some other person handled the bottle with poison in it?’
‘There’s always room for doubt,’ Cleary corrects him.
‘Did you find other latent fingerprints at the scene of the crime?’
‘Yes. We found a number of other fingerprints.’
‘How did you rule them out of the murder inquiry?’
‘Well, we don’t rule anyone out. What we do is try and pick up fingerprints and identify who they belong to. It’s up to detectives to identity who had access to the crime scene so we can rule them out. Then we look for a match between those found at the scene and those on our database.’
‘I suppose you’d find the murder victims prints all over the house?’ Barclay looks temporarily perplexed, coaxing Cleary into saying more. ‘What do you call them? A control?’
‘Yes, we found them on a number of locations you’d expect to find them. On door handles, mugs, the television...’ Cleary’s voice tapers off.
‘Not on the bottle of poison?’
‘No.’
‘This interests me.’ Barclay takes a few steps forward towards the dock. The judge watches him closely, waiting for him to step out of line. Barclay seems lost for words. ‘How did you…’ he wiggles his fingers, and shudders, ‘fingerprint a corpse?’
‘Oh, no,’ says Cleary, correcting him. ‘That wasn’t necessary. His fingerprints were already on record.’
‘So it was quite a simple matter of you taking the murder victim’s prints from his criminal record?’
‘Yes.’
Montrose stands up and in a weary voice proclaims, ‘the murder victim is not on trial here,’ before sitting down again.
Barclay nods in acknowledgement, but turns back to witness box and his voice has a renewed vigour. ‘Did you find any matches for fingerprints in the handgun or bullets found in the house?’
Cleary knits his hands together in front of his small face as if praying. He has to think about this one. Grier had asked him to dust down a .22 Starr handgun, but more as a favour. He didn’t want it going in any official reports. But Cleary was always meticulous in his paperwork. ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘I did.’
The courtroom sighs like a forest after a high wind has passed through the trees. A reporter from the Glasgow Herald tiptoes out into the passage and bank of phones and stands frozen as Judge Brodie looks up at him. ‘And did you find prints on the handgun?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you find James Docherty’s prints on the handgun?’
Judge Brodie barks down at Barclay before the fingerprint expert can answer. ‘Can the learned counsel reframe the question?’
‘Certainly your honour,’ says Barclay. ‘Was the accused Karen Orr’s fingerprints on the handgun?’
‘No.’
‘Was the accused, Karen Orr’s, fingerprints found on the substantial amount of cash at the scene, I believe it was just under a £1000?’
‘No.’
The Advocate Depute consults with his colleagues before pronouncing. ‘No questions.’
Judge Brodie thanks the fingerprint expert, Mr Cleary before dismissing him and calling for a recess.
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Comments
Hi Celt. I'm being picky, I
Hi Celt. I'm being picky, I know. A few singular/plural ones stood out:
Karen Orr’s house that was dusted
There is a set of criteria
Were the accused... fingerprints
And an "in the handgun" on
Maybe a new paragraph for "And did you find prints on the handgun?" To separate it from the previous action.
Tense stuff! Leading the reader gently through the woods. Not easy to do. Nicely delivered.
Parson Thru
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.. makes you wonder how they
.. makes you wonder how they're going to find her guilty!
Also - the smudged fingerprints... would they not be able to tell at least, if they were small (child sized)?
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My pleasure celt. Keep on
My pleasure celt. Keep on keepin on.
Parson Thru
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Tension is really building. I
Tension is really building. I've never been on jury service before, but I feel like I am now.
Love that description of: the courtroom sighs like a forest after a high wind has passed through the trees. Wish I could write lines like that Jack.
Great read as always.
Jenny.
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