WHILE HEADING BACK to the crime scene, Ashley paid no attention to the oppressive heat, the cactus that scraped along the side of the Suburban, the black-barked mesquite bushes that dotted the land or buried rocks in the hard packed desert soil.
Finally, the car crested a low-lying hill and skidded to a stop. A Robertson R44 helicopter sat silent below them on a flat area. Joe said, "The body is over there below that small ridge." Two men stood next to the ridge. "That's Sergeant Gallaher and his pilot, Cisco."
Ashley reached for the Field Investigator's Kit and exited the Suburban. She headed for the men, one wearing a deputy sheriff's uniform. "Good afternoon. I'm Agent Kohen, FBI." She showed her ID, offered her hand to Deputy Gallaher, who shook it, and then to Cisco.
"I've been on-site about an hour," said Gallaher. "The victim is over there. I've covered it with a body bag to keep the sun off. I haven't disturbed the scene, like you asked. The corpse has been in the ground a day, maybe."
"Why do you say that?"
"A portion of the victim's foot is uncovered. The skin is pale, not green, and it feels like traces of rigor mortis remain in the muscles."
Ashley nodded. "That suggests death occurred within 24 to 36 hours. What about the temperature?"
"Oh, I didn’t get the temperature, the body is wrapped tight and buried"
"I mean the atmospheric temperature."
"Oh, of course. Aboveground it's a 105 degrees, but that doesn't apply to the body. At twelve to fifteen inches below the surface, the earth keeps a constant 56 to 58 degrees. That's why the creatures around here, live in holes during the day."
Not knowing desert conditions, Ashley had to accept Gallaher's statement. It made sense, and she welcomed the news. This big piece of evidence, buried a few feet away, might be in better condition than she thought possible.
Deputy Gallaher, it's important that we reclaim the body with minimum site disturbance. I have with me an anthropologist from the BLM. I'd like her assistance in unearthing the body. Do you have any objections?" Sergeant Gallaher shook his head.
Ashley motioned to Alice to come over. “I need your help.” She impressed upon Alice the importance of preserving the ‘evidence’ and likened it to the recovery of ancient bones. “I want you to approach the job with the same professionalism needed at any archaeological excavation.” Alice squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “Yes, ma’am I’ll do my best.”
Ashley asked Gallaher about approach paths to the investigation scene. "Have you discovered any shoe prints or tire marks?"
"I found one set of each. I've taken photographs with shadows that show strong ridge patterns of both shoe and tire prints, approaching and leaving the site. To determine scale, I put a bright penny in each shot."
Ashley gave him a nod of approval. A quick view of the LCD frame on the back of his camera displayed a series of well-defined impressions. An analysis of the footprints would result in an estimate of the height and weight of the subject.
Alice Kabunsky, using her tools, removed soil that crumbled away from around the wrapped body. After thirty minutes of careful digging, the corpse lay exposed in the grave. Before moving it aboveground, Ashley inspected the body's positioning. The head pointed south and faced east. The body lay on its right side. She found flat rocks under the head, chin area, and right shoulder. Except for smudges of dirt on the linen covering, it was clean and had a sweet smell of lilacs. She asked Gallaher to photograph every detail.
Kneeling beside the body, Ashley examined the white shroud. She noted the neat folds and the snug wrappings that showed the outline of a small body, possibly a child. If the burial preparation was performed by a murderer, it had been meticulously executed. Victims are seldom treated with such respect by their killer. Why this one?
On a positive note the careful preparation and handling of the corpse guarantied the body to be in nearly pristine condition. A skillful autopsy and a professional forensic study should yield significant clues. To guarantee a fast, accurate, and expert examination, the FBI had to employ the services of a forensic professional.
She had three immediate tasks to perform; gain approval from her field office to accept jurisdiction in this case, secure agreement by Lea County authorities to surrender jurisdiction, and arrange transport of the body.
Ashley asked Gallaher, “How long have you lived in this part of New Mexico?"
"All my life."
"Then you know the people and the local culture around here?"
"Sure."
"Are there any mosques in the area attended by people of the Islamic faith?"
"You mean like terrorists?"
"No, sergeant, I mean Muslims. People who practice that religion.”
Gallaher thought for a moment. "No, Agent Kohen. I don't think so. This is small-town America. Everybody knows everyone. If any Muslims lived around here I'd know.”
"Now, tell me about the medical examiner in Lea County, and your forensic capabilities."
"The M. E. is part-time. We collect fingerprints and send them to you guys. Lab studies are all done by the state in Albuquerque."
"What's your turn-around time for analysis of hair and fiber evidence?"
"Hard to say. A couple of weeks. Maybe a month if there's a backlog."
"You asked for the Bureau to review this case. How serious is your sheriff about our involvement?"
"Real serious."
"Would he sign an MOU between his office and ours?"
"A what?"
"A Memo of Understanding, giving the FBI jurisdiction as the lead investigative agency in this specific case."
"I don't know, but I think he would."
"Thank you, sergeant."
Ashley walked back to the Suburban and called her office on the satellite relay radio. The late afternoon heat caused perspiration to sprout on her forehead. Dorothy Hogan answered. "Ms. Hogan, this is Agent Kohen, is Mr. Kent in his office?"
"Yes, he's free. I'll connect you."
After a moment of silence, "Kent here. Where are you, Kohen?"
"Good afternoon, Mr. Kent. I'm on scene in Lea County. I will make a written report, but right now I need your approval to have the FBI take jurisdiction." She braced herself for a negative response.
"I sent you there as an observer, Kohen, not to drum up business for the Bureau."
With an uneasy feeling in her stomach, she said, "Yes, sir. I understand. Let me share my observations with you, then you decide."
"Okay, I’m listening."
"I don't have hard evidence, but I have strong indications the circumstance surrounding this incident needs further inquiry. First, the way the body was prepared for burial is in conformance with Islamic tradition. The corpse is on its right side with supports under the head, chin and shoulder. The grave is perpendicular to Mecca and the white linen cloth has a sweet smell. These are all Islamic customs, unlike anything we normally see in this country. Second, the body is hidden in a remote area suggesting a crime had been committed. Third, there are no Mosques anywhere near here and no Muslim populations in this part of the state. Fourth, signs indicate this killing occurred fewer than thirty-six hours ago, meaning potential evidence may remain intact if we act quickly. Finally, advanced forensic techniques in Lea County are nonexistent, and the local sheriff's office wants nothing to do with this case."
Walter Kent listened to Ashley's oral report. "When you boil it down, Kohen, it's a hunch, not a solid basis for assuming jurisdiction. It sounds vague, mighty vague."
"Yes sir. It probably does, but..." Ashley decided to take a chance, one that might affect her fledgling career in the FBI. "...you probably remember a few years back two Islamic men took flight lessons in Florida to learn how to fly a commercial jet plane. Nobody wondered why two men wanted to fly an aircraft they couldn't afford to buy. Nobody got suspicious. No one figured they might put that knowledge to some horrific use, like flying an airplane into a building in downtown New York City. It would have sounded like a vague notion. Mighty vague," she said, swallowing hard.
There was a long pause on the line. Ashley clenched her teeth, and waited. Had she just screwed her career? Had she offended the one person she needed on her side? She waited, gripping the phone hard enough to feel pain.
"They used to call that a sucker punch, Kohen."
"I know."
"You've got guts, I'll give you that."
"I think this is important."
Ashley wondered what was going through Walter Kent's mind. She hoped he would consider the likelihood that this might turn out to be a case involving a terrorist. Would Kent be willing to ignore a situation that might lead to a future terrorist attack? Ashley was betting that he wouldn't take that chance, no matter how remote the possibility.
"What the hell. Okay, Kohen, go for it."
Ashley felt a release of tension in her body followed by a wave of gratitude. "Am I allowed to incur necessary expenses?"
"Of course. Within reason."
"Thank you, Mr. Kent."
"Not necessary, Agent Kohen. You're doing your job. Keep me advised." He disconnected.
It took a few seconds for her to compose herself. She had gambled and won, which prompted her next action. Motioning Deputy Gallaher over to the Suburban, she offered to dictate a binding MOU. Using the Suburban’s radio Gallaher checked with Sheriff Hargraves who agreed to the arrangement, and put his secretary on the line. Thirty minutes later the letter was signed and faxed to the Albuquerque Field Office for the SEC's approval. Finally, Ashley questioned the pilot of Cisco's Helicopter Service.
"What's the flight range for your aircraft?"
"About 300 miles, if the wind is right," answered Cisco.
"Weight limits?'
"With passengers eight hundred pounds, give or take."
"Flight time to Albuquerque?"
"Couple of hours."
"Hourly rate?"
"Three fifty an hour."
"Get real, Cisco. Two-hundred plus gas is top dollar. That's all I'm authorized to pay. What do you say?"
Cisco checked Agent Kohen. She didn't blink. "Deal," he said.
“Where’s the closest source of ice?
“Ice?”
"We are going to keep our little passenger cool for the same reason you put steaks in the refrigerator–preservation."
“That would be the Roswell Industrial Airport. We can get gas, too."
Joe Halverson agreed to drive Sergeant Gallaher back to Lovington, then take Kabunsky home and leave the white Suburban at the FBI's satellite office in Roswell. With the body bag zipped and loaded on board, Agent Kohen took her place next to Cisco who reviewed his checklist, started the engine, and headed for the nearest supply of bagged ice.
Once airborne Ashley watched the late afternoon sun stretch long shadows across the land. Many questions raced through her mind–all without answers.