Manly ran his fingers through his sandy hair. “I guess. But still…” He exhaled slowly. “Jesus. I don’t know what to think.”

“Then don’t, Manly.” His friend laid a hand on Manly’s shoulder. “It isn’t exactly your strong suit. Just leave the thinking to me. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of everything.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. Cross my heart. In fact… I already have a good idea what we should do next. Something so… impressive, they’ll have to listen to you. Something this town will never forget.”

Ben knew it had to happen-eventually Canelli was bound to put on a good witness. And he knew that the evidence was compelling and that fingerprints, alas, could not be dismissed as junk science. Thus, it stood to reason that the fingerprint expert would be the low part of the trial-or one of them, at any rate. As a result, Ben prepared for it, prepared Father Beale for it, worried about it, anticipated it.

But somehow, the anticipation is never as bad as the real thing.

Ben listened as Canelli led Dr. Emilio Fisher through his description of the painstaking methodology he had followed during his examination. They were treated to a detailed discourse on the thirty-seven primary characteristics of fingerprints, the difference between dusting powders, how fingerprints were lifted, how they were preserved, and how points of similarity are used to match prints. Canelli took him step-by-step through the chain of custody followed to preserve and protect the evidence, leaving absolutely no opportunity for tampering.

“There are three basic types of fingerprints,” Fisher explained. “Visible, plastic, and latent. Visible prints are left when the fingers, palms, or feet of the suspect come into contact with any clean, smooth surface. Some type of substrate is required to capture the friction ridge detail. Dust is the most common, but we’ve also successfully taken prints from blood, ink, grease, paint and other similar substances.”

“What about plastic prints?”

“Those occur when contact is made with a pliable surface or substance-wax, putty, gum, that sort of thing. You get a negative impression of the print, since the ridges of the skin are reproduced as indentations in the capturing substance.”

“And latent prints?”

“Those occur when natural skin secretions-perspiration and body oil, principally-are mixed with dust or dirt and left on a surface suitable for recovery of the print, paper, glass or, as in this case, a smooth polished acrylic. Many forms of development are possible-light sources, sprays, chemicals-but here we used a simple dusting powder to create a color contrast between the print and its background. Once the print is found, photography and mechanical lifting methods are employed to record the image and preserve it for future analysis.”

“What, if anything, did you find at the scene of the crime?” Canelli asked.

“Latents. On the smooth acrylic desk object-the St. Crispin’s Award. The prints were clear and unmistakable. Of all the different types of prints, latents are the most hardy. They can last for years.”

“Is there any way to date a print?”

“Not reliably. There are some who claim to have discovered techniques for judging the age of a fingerprint, but in my professional opinion, they are not reliable.”

What? Ben wondered. Some junk science to which the jury will not be subjected? Wonders never cease.

“Were you able to lift the prints found on the award?”

“Yes. Very reliably. And we matched them against the fingerprint exemplar taken from the defendant upon his arrest.”

“And your conclusion, if any?”

“They matched. The prints were left by Daniel Beale.”

“You’re certain about this?”

“I’m certain. Everyone who has ever seen the prints is certain. Even an amateur viewing the prints would realize that they match. The points of similarity are overwhelming. There is simply no question about it. Those prints were made by the defendant. And no one else.”

When it was Ben’s turn to cross, he felt like Don Quixote riding in to tilt at the windmills. This was a mission impossible and then some. The science of fingerprints was beyond reproach; worse, it was, unlike DNA, a matter of common knowledge to all, easily understood even by the densest of jurors.

Moreover, Dr. Fisher was a good witness. He had looked rather ordinary, in his cotton J.C. Penney’s jacket and polyester slacks, but he sounded convincing on the stand, knowledgeable and confident, without seeming like a prosecution pawn willing to take any position or ram anything down the jurors’ collective throats.

Ben wondered about the attire, though; it was almost as if all police experts took their outfits from the same very bad costume closet. Was it symptomatic of the fact that police salaries were so poor, or was it a matter of taste (also poor)? Or could it be the prosecutors thought if a police witness looked too good he might lose credibility? It was an imponderable Ben promised to give some serious thought. Another time.

“Now, Doctor,” Ben said evenly, “when you say there were no fingerprints on the weapon other than Father Beale’s, what you’re actually saying is that you didn’t find any fingerprints other than Father Beale’s, right?”

“In part.” Fisher was taking the cross in stride, neither disturbed nor obnoxiously unruffled. “But the reason I didn’t find any others is because they weren’t there.”

“As far as you could detect.”

“And if they had been there, I would have detected them.”

Ben rubbed his forehead. This was going to be a tough nut. “Now Doctor, be honest with the jury. Is it possible to touch an object without leaving a fingerprint?”

“It’s possible to brush your finger against an object and not leave a print. Possibly to sustain a more prolonged touching on a surface that is not particularly conducive to prints. But in this case, we’re dealing with a clear acrylic-a substance highly conducive to leaving prints. And we know the killer didn’t just lightly touch the object, either. In order to muster the force necessary to deliver the blow, he or she would’ve had to grip the award firmly, for an extended period of time. Given those parameters, it is in my opinion absolutely impossible that the assailant would not leave a print behind.”

“Maybe the print was smeared by the force or impact.”

“In which case I would’ve detected the smear. But I didn’t. Some of Father Beale’s prints were smeared, but there was nothing that could be attributed to a third party.”

“What about unresolved latents?”

“There weren’t any.”

“Maybe the killer wiped it clean after the murder.”

“He would’ve eliminated Beale’s prints, as well as his own. Unless Daniel Beale picked it up afterward. And didn’t mention it to the police. That doesn’t seem likely to me.”

Ben tried a new approach. “Isn’t it true that some people leave prints more easily than others?”

“Yes.” Fisher fingered his glasses absently. “Print residues do vary, depending principally upon the oiliness of the skin. But everyone on earth has ridges on their fingertips. And there is no way anyone could’ve held that award with the strength necessary to deliver that blow to the victim’s head without leaving a print. It is simply impossible.”

Ben glanced back at Christina. A quick look from her was all he needed to tell him he was doing just as badly as he thought he was doing. If this didn’t improve quickly, the trial was going to take a major turnaround. For the worse.

“Perhaps the assailant was wearing gloves,” Ben suggested.

“Admittedly, that would’ve explained the absence of fingerprints.”

Ben smiled, glad to see the doctor was a reasonable man.

“But the police searched the church and the people present for hours and hours, literally leaving no stone or pocket unturned. They found no gloves, much less gloves splattered with blood.”