1. Cutting 1 CUTTING Behind the convenience store, in full view of a broken surveillance camera, a camping chair and a blood-stained blanket sit abandoned in the urban blight. A pool of blood cools into gel on the sidewalk, separated from the rest of civilization by two fluttering lines of yellow crime scene tape. Past the police line, brick apartments squat on and on and on. A passerby peeks over the tape. "He got him three times in the back and once in the chest!" he shouts. But that is almost certainly not what happened. What did happen behind this convenience store is, at this moment and legally speaking, a mystery.
According to the dispatch call, it was a "cutting," a police department term for what would colloquially be called a stabbing. Jill, a blunt, raspy-voiced officer for the Baltimore Police Department, arrived soon after it happened. She chased the suspect across the street, where she detained him. Then she walked back to the scene, hunting for witnesses. She found only one. Back at headquarters, crime laboratory technician Erika Harden was just beginning her ten-hour shift. The call came through around five p.m.
, while she was prepping her equipment. Over the radio, Harden announced that she was "10-8," the code for in-service, then took the elevator down to the bay, a cavernous garage that acts as a staging area for the crime lab. She loaded her gear into a black, all-wheel-drive, midsize SUV marked FORENSICS, and headed into the literal sunset. Over the millennia since the Cuneiform laws first codified rules of behavior for ancient civilizations in the Middle East, millions of people have been employed in an attempt to enforce them: Roman quaestors and Chinese prefects and Islamic muhtasibs ; international tribunals and police departments equipped with military-style weaponry. Erika Harden represents the slickest, most postmodern moment in this historical procession. She is a professional crime solver who uses cutting-edge science to determine who is responsible for transgressions, so wrongdoers can be brought to justice and prevented from causing further harm. Using nothing but physical tools and logic, she travels backward through time, re-creating a crime in as much detail as a courtroom can stand. This job has many names: crime scene investigator, evidence technician, forensic investigator, crime scene technician, crime scene analyst, and crime scene examiner among them.
Technically, Harden is a Crime Laboratory Technician II, a title confusing enough that it has misled people into thinking it was a laboratory job. A more illustrative title is "criminalist." Like a numismatist is a student and collector of coins, a criminalist is a student of criminalistics, a person who collects evidence in order to understand a crime in as much detail as possible. A criminalist should not be confused with a criminologist, which is a person who attempts to explain social deviance on a grand scale by plumbing the depths of psychology, policy, and punishment. A criminalist doesn''t worry about the why of a crime. She deals in more prosaic questions: When? How? And most important, who? ERIKA IS TWENTY-SEVEN, BUT appears younger, with kohl-rimmed eyes, plastic-gauged earrings, and a silver nose ring. She looks more like the lead singer in a punk band than a crime lab technician, which she has been for three years, ever since graduating from Stevenson University in Owings Mills, Maryland, with her master''s degree in forensic science. She works ten hours a night, four nights a week, which sounds onerous but isn''t really.
The traffic is better at night than it is during the day, and she''s used to late hours. In between school and starting at Baltimore PD, Harden worked shifts at a local bar. Like many of her generation, Harden discovered crime scene investigation through the CBS show CSI , which catapulted the profession to fame after it premiered on October 6, 2000. Although it''s difficult to imagine after sixteen seasons and an unending series of sequels, spin-offs, and imitators, the general public knew next to nothing about criminalistics before CSI . For most of the profession''s history, crime scene investigators toiled behind-the-scenes in obscurity. People used to just fall into the job through a well-timed classified ad, the military, or friends and family who worked in law enforcement. Then came the show, which crime scene investigators in the younger age ranges almost universally claim as their first exposure to the career. For all its cheesy one-liners, CSI introduced the country to a job that rode the balance between law enforcement and hard science, where a smart nerd who lacked squeamishness could serve justice just as well as a hard-boiled detective in a fedora.
It was Sherlock Holmes with Luminol. Scooby-Doo with liquid chromatography mass spectrometry. Was that even a real job? It was. And Erika was lucky enough to have an aunt who could tell her all about it. Harden''s aunt, Mary-Pat Whiteley, was a veteran crime scene investigator in the original mold. She started off as a fingerprint tech for the FBI, then transitioned into the lone crime scene investigator for Annapolis City, Maryland. Over Thanksgiving dinners, Harden and her aunt would discuss the intimate details of crime scene investigation until the rest of the family asked them to please shut up because they were grossing everyone out. Harden became the first person in her family to earn a college degree, then stayed on for a five-year bachelor''s-to-master''s option, becoming the first person in her family to earn a master''s degree.
And here we are. If you saw Erika Harden working in the street, like she is now, you might mistake her for a police officer. She wears black tactical pants and a long-sleeved baselayer under a black bulletproof vest marked FORENSICS. She used to wear her hair in a ponytail, but switched to a pair of dark braids twisted into a bun after she almost dragged the ponytail''s tip through some suspected blood. On her belt: a flashlight, pepper spray, keys, and a radio. No sidearm. Harden is a civilian. Harden whips out a tablet and opens an app called CrimePad.
She creates a new case, followed by a new scene, and the app automatically records the date and time. This scene is fairly straightforward: only one person has been injured; the suspect is in custody; there aren''t weapons lying around; and the combatants didn''t run for five blocks and leave haphazard trails of evidence all down the street. All Harden has to do is take notes and photos, collect evidence for analysis, and be on her way. A tablet app for crime scene investigators may not sound as exciting as the James Bond-worthy lab gadgets featured on crime shows (we''ll get to those), but CrimePad has been a monumental advance over the technology CSIs previously used to describe scenes, which amounted to scribbling observations in spiral-bound notebooks. CrimePad organizes observations, evidence, and sketches through a series of drop-down menus and customizable screens that serve as guidelines for documentation. It creates an electronic record that assists with future reconstructions, such as for cases that don''t come to court for years. Understandably, some 250 police agencies across the country have adopted the app since it launched in 2014. Now for the cool stuff.
To collect physical evidence, Harden uses a personalized kit containing her camera, external flash, batteries, measuring devices, and envelopes.Disposable scalpels and box cutters for scraping up paint or cutting carpet. Tweezers for grabbing anything tiny. In case of an especially messy scene, she''s got personal protection equipment: gloves, hard hat, fire boots, and coveralls. There are lift cards, brushes, powder, and tapes for collecting fingerprints. Swabs for blood and DNA. There''s more in the trunk: plastic bins loaded with paper sacks; red plastic biohazard bags; weighted and numbered yellow triangles to mark the positions of physical items on the ground; a sharps container. An arson kit contains metal paint cans inside which investigators can seal burned or fuming evidence.
Every car contains a ladder, a tripod, a safety kit, and a metal detector. For the sake of speed and efficiency, Harden doesn''t get to use the department''s coolest tools, such as the Leica C10 3D laser scanner, which creates a 360-degree, high-resolution image of a crime scene in minutes, except in the most serious situations: shootings that involve police, mass casualties, national news-type events. But the crime lab is always on the lookout for spy-caliber gadgets that they hope the department will swing enough budget to purchase. Recently they got a little DeWalt camera that can peek into a hole in a wall to search for projectiles. "It has a magnet that will pull it out for you," Harden says. It''s the time of the evening photographers call the magic hour, when the waning light makes headshots, wedding photos, and art prints come out color-true and crisp. Harden adds a photo element to her scene in CrimePad to note that she''s taking pictures and pulls out her department-assigned Nikon D7200 digital camera. She takes a long-range photo from the nearest large intersection, where a street sign and the convenience store''s marquee can establish an address.
She steps closer for midrange shots, squats for the close-ups. Photography is such a critical part of crime scene investigation that it morphs into a hobby for many who do the job. In addition to fulfilling required compositions--long-range, midrange, and a close-up for every major detail--crime scene investigators need to take photos that are high resol.