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“Decker and I have visited our share of prisons over the years,” noted Lancaster. “Seen a lot of convict skin with body art. Some cool, some hideous.”
Decker was still looking at the tat. “It’s a spiderweb.”
“Trapped,” said Lancaster.
“What?” asked Jamison.
“Symbolizes being trapped in prison,” explained Decker. “It’s referring to their prison sentence.”
“That looks like a teardrop,” observed Jamison, pointing to the mark near the crook of the elbow.
Decker nodded. “Right, it is.”
“What does that mean?”
Lancaster and Decker exchanged a glance. He said in a subdued tone, “Sometimes, it denotes that the person has been raped in prison. Usually it’s inked on the face, where everyone can see it.”
“Damn,” said Jamison.
Decker closed his eyes and felt sick to his stomach.
And I helped put you there because maybe I didn’t do a thorough enough investigation.
Jamison was watching Decker and put a hand on his arm. His eyes popped open and he abruptly moved away from her. He didn’t notice her hurt look at his reaction.
Lancaster examined the last mark that was to the right of the teardrop. “I’ve never seen one like that before, though,” she said.
“Looks like a star with an arrow going through it,” said Jamison. She looked at Decker. “Any ideas?”
“Not yet,” he replied. He looked at the ME. “How far along was his cancer?”
The ME shuddered. “Advanced. If the bullet didn’t get him, my guess is he had a few weeks left. Actually, I’m surprised he was still able to function.”
“He said he was on street meds,” said Jamison.
“The tox screens will show what was in his system. He had nothing in his stomach, no food or anything, I mean. I would imagine his appetite would have been negligible at that point. But he must have been a strong man to keep going with that level of cancer in him.”
Decker said, “Well, maybe wanting to prove his innocence gave him that strength.”
“Anything else of interest?” asked Lancaster.
“We’ve got his clothes over there in those evidence bags.”
Lancaster looked at Decker. “He also had a small duffel. We’ve got it at the station. Nothing much in it, but you’ll probably want to go through it.”
Decker nodded as he continued to stare down at the body.
Three tats. The spiderweb looked to be the oldest. That made sense. When Hawkins had first got to prison, he was probably pissed beyond belief, if he was indeed innocent. The web tat would have been one of his few ways to vocalize that anger. The teardrop tat probably came soon thereafter. Fresh meat in prisons did not remain fresh for long.
Then there was the unidentified one. Star with an arrow through it. He would have to find out what that one meant. Because that one looked to be the most recent. Decker could tell because Hawkins had recently lost weight, probably because of his illness. The other two tats showed signs of his shrinking weight, and the corresponding change in the width of his forearm. The star, though, evinced no signs of this. And the markings looked fresher too. He might have had it done right before he left prison, in fact.
And if he’d had this tat put on close to when he was released it might have held some significance for him at that time.
And since Decker had missed there being no muddy footprints in the house, he was determined to not miss anything else on this case.
Homicide detectives rarely got do-overs. He wasn’t going to screw this one up.
Again.
