Letters To My Daughter's Killer - [38]

‘No, only in the living room.’

I think of the floorboards they removed.

‘Please tell the court what items were sent for testing,’ says Mr Cromer.

‘From the scene?’ Mr Noon asks.

‘Yes, from the scene.’

‘Fingerprints and footwear impressions,’ he says, as if starting a long list.

Mr Cromer holds up a hand. ‘The jury will, I think, be familiar with fingerprints and how they can be matched, but please tell us about footwear impressions.’

‘Certainly. We now have the technology to be able to recover the impressions left by footwear, shoes and the like, from many surfaces, even carpet. Certainly from the type of laminate flooring found at the Tennysons’. These can then be matched to footwear.’

‘Wouldn’t the same brand of shoes leave the same marks?’ Mr Cromer asks.

‘Initially, but as soon as a piece of footwear is worn, it acquires marks, nicks or cuts in the sole. By comparing these, we can match impressions to an individual item.’

‘You recovered footwear impressions from the scene?’ says Mr Cromer.

‘Yes. As with fingerprints, there were many sets found. Together these could tell us who had been at the house. And the footwear impressions would show traffic since the floor was last cleaned.’

I picture Florence’s shoes, see her running round their living room.

‘Please go on,’ says Mr Cromer.

‘We were able to match and discount those belonging to the deceased and to her daughter, and to match other impressions to both Mr Tennyson and Mrs Sutton.’ The step I’d taken into the room before all those hands dragged me away. ‘And of course we matched and eliminated footwear from officers and CSIs at the scene. We were however left with a substantial number of impressions from a pair of size ten men’s running shoes which could not be accounted for. One of those impressions was close to the victim and was made in blood.’

‘A bloody footprint,’ says Mr Cromer.

‘Shoe print,’ the scientist corrects him. ‘Which could only have been made during or after the attack.’

‘Can you tell us any more about this shoe?’

‘Yes, it was an Adidas running shoe, from the 2009 summer season,’ says Mr Noon.

‘Size ten?’

‘That’s right,’ says Mr Noon.

‘I’m right that clothes and footwear worn by both Mr Tennyson and Mrs Sutton were taken by the police for examination?’ says Mr Cromer.

‘Yes, that’s common procedure.’

‘And what size were the trainers that Mr Tennyson surrendered to you for comparison?’ asks the barrister.

‘Size ten.’

‘But a different make?’ says Mr Cromer.

‘Yes, Nike, an older pair,’ says Mr Noon.

‘Were there any traces of blood on the Nike trainers?

‘No.’

‘And the clothes that Mr Tennyson had surrendered?’

I am a ghoul, eager to hear of blood on your garments and your shoes, to imagine you sprayed with Lizzie’s blood, daubed in it, caught red-handed.

But he says no, the witness.

‘Nothing?’ Mr Cromer sounds incredulous.

‘That’s correct.’

‘Was there any blood at the scene?’

‘A great deal,’ Mr Noon says. ‘On the floor and the walls and the furniture.’

‘Were you able to identify all the fingerprints?’

‘Not all of them, but that is not unusual.’

‘Were any fingerprints of particular interest?’ Mr Cromer pushes his wire glasses up his nose.

‘There were two which included blood,’ says Mr Noon.

‘Where were these prints?’

‘There was one on the wall at the bottom of the stairs, and one on the bathroom door.’

‘Did you identify these?’

‘Yes, they belonged to Mr Tennyson.’ There’s an electric buzz of concentration in the court. It’s surely damning evidence. Blood on your hands, a bloody footprint. I want to kiss Mr Cromer.

‘We heard from the pathologist that a poker had been recovered from the scene and was thought to be the weapon used. Did you examine it?’

‘Yes. It had been wiped clean,’ says Mr Noon.

‘You could tell?’

‘Oh yes, otherwise we would have been able to see material from the victim on the weapon, blood, hair and so on. And fingerprints, perhaps.’

‘You recovered nothing?’ Mr Cromer asks.

‘We did find traces of the victim’s blood trapped in places where the metal was pocked or rusted and flaked, but no fingerprints. We also found an oily residue and fibres that we matched to a brand of baby wipe.’

My stomach heaves at the thought of that: the moist perfumed tissue and the bloody poker; the juxtaposition seems obscene. Someone somewhere in the forensics lab must have painstakingly tested those traces.

‘Did you find such wipes at the house?’ says Mr Cromer.

‘Yes, there were some in the kitchen.’

‘Were they visible from the living area?’

‘No, they were on a shelf below the breakfast bar,’ says Mr Noon.

‘What else did you examine forensically?’

‘We examined the contents of the ash tray from the wood-burning stove. We found synthetic material, a polyurethane, traces of a man-made substance, EVA, and rubber in the ash.’

‘EVA is?’ Mr Cromer says.

‘Ethylene-vinyl acetate – known as foam rubber.’

‘And where would that combination of material be found?’

‘Most commonly in footwear and sports equipment.’

You burned your shoes! I feel pressure in my chest; Bea shoots me a look.

‘Is it true to say that what you found in the ash was consistent with someone burning a pair of running shoes in the stove?’ says Mr Cromer.