Whispers of the Dead - Страница 15

‘So what do you think of Dan’s new helper?’

I looked through the window. ‘Jacobsen? She seems keen enough.’

‘Mm.’ The fingers continued to beat out a gentle tattoo on the steering wheel. ‘Attractive, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Tom said nothing. I felt my face start to burn. ‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, grinning.

Tom had called ahead to warn the morgue that the exhumed remains were on their way. They’d have to be examined in a separate autopsy suite in order to avoid cross-contamination with the body from the cabin. Just the possibility of that could cause an evidentiary nightmare when the killer was caught.

Assuming he was.

Kyle was talking to two other assistants in the corridor when we arrived. He broke off to take us to the suite he’d prepared, glancing behind us as though expecting—or hoping—to see someone else. He looked crestfallen when he realized there was no one there.

‘Is Summer coming in today?’

The attempt at nonchalance wasn’t successful. ‘Oh, I dare say she’ll be stopping by later,’ Tom told him.

‘Right. I just wondered.’

Tom kept a straight face until Kyle had left the autopsy suite. ‘Must be spring,’ he said with a smile. ‘Gets the sap rising in everyone.’

The casket from Steeple Hill was brought in just as we’d finished changing into scrubs and rubber aprons. It had been transported in a box-like aluminium container; one coffin nestling inside another like Russian dolls. Before anything else the body had to be X-rayed, so Kyle wheeled the whole thing into the radiography room on a trolley.

‘Need a hand with this?’ he asked.

‘No, thanks, we’ll manage.’

‘Tom…’ I said. The remains would have to be lifted from the casket to be X-rayed. Decomposition had reduced the body mass, but I didn’t want him exerting himself.

He gave an exasperated sigh, knowing what I was thinking. ‘We can wait till Summer gets here. I’ve already gotten Kyle in trouble once.’

‘Oh, it’s all right. Martin and Jason can cover for me.’ Kyle had perked up at the mention of Summer. He gave a shy grin. ‘Besides, Dr Hicks isn’t here right now.’

Tom reluctantly conceded. ‘Well, OK, then. You can help David lift the body out once we’ve taken photographs.’ Just then his phone rang. He looked at its display. ‘It’s Dan. I better take it.’

While Tom went into the corridor to speak to Gardner, Kyle and I unsnapped the big clips that held the aluminium lid in place.

‘So you’re British, huh?’ he asked. ‘From London?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Wow. So what’s Europe like?’

I took a moment to wonder how to answer that as I wrestled with a difficult clip. ‘Well, it’s pretty varied, really.’

‘Yeah? I’d like to go someday. See the Eiffel Tower, places like that. I’ve travelled around the States, but I’ve always wanted to go somewhere foreign.’

‘You should try it.’

‘Not on my pay.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘So… is Summer going to be a forensic anthro like Dr Lieberman?’

‘I imagine that’s the plan.’

He kept his attention on unfastening the clips, trying to seem unconcerned. ‘Does that mean she’ll be staying in Tennessee?’

‘Why don’t you ask her?’

The look he gave me was terrified. He quickly dropped his gaze. ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t. I just, you know. Wondered.’

I managed not to smile. ‘I expect she’ll be here for a while yet, anyway.’

‘Right.’

He nodded, furiously, burying his head in his work. His shyness was painful to see. I’d no idea if Summer would welcome his attention, but I hoped he found the courage to find out.

We were about to lift off the aluminium lid from the container when Tom returned. His expression was sour.

‘Don’t bother. Dan doesn’t want us to touch the body for the time being. Apparently Alex Irving wants to look at it in situ.’

‘What for?’ I could understand why the profiler had wanted to view the first victim’s body in the cabin, but this one was laid out in a coffin. I couldn’t see what he hoped to learn from it that he couldn’t get from photographs.

‘Who knows?’ Frustrated, Tom blew out a breath. ‘Hicks and Irving in one morning. Lord, this is shaping up to be one hell of a day. And you didn’t hear me say that, Kyle.’

The morgue assistant smiled. ‘No, sir. Anything else I can do?’

‘Not right now. I’ll give you a call when Irving gets here. I’m assured he won’t be long.’

But we should have known that Irving wasn’t the type to worry over keeping anyone waiting. Half an hour, then an hour, went by, and still he hadn’t graced us with his presence. Tom and I occupied ourselves in rinsing and drying the remains from the cabin that had been left in detergent overnight. It was nearly two hours before the profiler sauntered into the autopsy suite without knocking. He was wearing an expensive suede jacket over a plain black shirt, his beard little more than a dark shading on the well-fleshed cheeks and softening jaw line.

A girl was with him, pretty and no older than nineteen or twenty. She hung close behind him, as though for protection.

He bestowed an insincere smile upon us. ‘Dr Lieberman, Dr…’ He made do with a vague nod in my direction. ‘I expect Dan Gardner told you I was coming.’

Tom didn’t return the smile. ‘Yes, he did. He also said you’d be here soon.’

Irving raised his hands in mock surrender, giving what I imagine he thought was a disarming grin. ‘Mea culpa. I was about to prerecord a TV interview when Gardner phoned, and it ran late. You know how these things are.’

Tom’s face said he knew very well. He looked pointedly at the girl. ‘And this is…?’

Irving put a proprietorial hand on the girl’s shoulder. ‘This is, ah, Stacie. One of my students. She’s writing a dissertation on my work.’

‘That must be fascinating,’ Tom said. ‘But I’m afraid she’ll have to wait outside.’

The profiler waved a hand, airily dismissing the notion. ‘That’s OK. I’ve warned her what to expect.’

‘Even so, I’ll have to insist.’

The smile became set as Irving locked gazes with Tom. ‘I told her she could come with me.’

‘Then you shouldn’t have. This is a morgue, not a lecture theatre. I’m sorry,’ Tom added more gently to the girl.

Irving stared at him for a moment, then gave the girl a regretful smile. ‘Looks like I’ve been overruled, Stacie. You’ll have to wait back at the car.’

She hurried out, head bowed with embarrassment. I felt sorry for her, but Irving should have known better than to bring her without first asking Tom. The profiler’s smile vanished as soon as the door had closed behind her.

‘She’s one of my best students. If I’d thought she might embarrass me I wouldn’t have brought her along.’

‘I’m sure you wouldn’t, but that wasn’t your decision to make.’ Tom’s tone ended the discussion. ‘David, would you mind bringing Kyle to the radiology suite, please? I’ll show Dr Irving where the changing room is.’

‘That won’t be necessary. I’ve no intention of touching anything.’ The profiler’s manner had ice on it now.

‘Maybe not, but we’re pernickety about things like that. Besides, I’d hate you to get your jacket stained.’

Irving glanced down at his expensive suede jacket. ‘Oh. Well, perhaps you’re right.’

Tom gave me a quick smile as I went out. By the time I’d found Kyle he and Irving were already in the radiography room, standing in silence on opposite sides of the aluminium box containing the casket.

Irving had put on a lab coat over his clothes. He wore a pained expression, massaging either side of his nose with a gloved thumb and forefinger as Kyle and I began to lift the container’s lid.

‘I hope this won’t take long. I have rhinitis and the air conditioning makes my sinuses—God!’

He hastily stepped back, cupping his hand over his nose as the lid came off and released the stench from inside. But to his credit he recovered quickly, lowering his hand and moving forward again as we opened the actual casket.

‘Is, ah, is this normal?’

‘The condition of the body, you mean?’ Tom shrugged. ‘Depends what you mean by normal. The decomp is in keeping with an interred corpse. Just not one that’s only been buried six months.’

‘I presume you have an explanation?’

‘Not yet.’

Irving contrived to look surprised. ‘So we’ve got two bodies, both mysteriously more decomposed than they should be. A pattern of sorts there, I think. And I understand this isn’t the grave’s rightful owner?’

‘That’s how it looks. This is a black male. Willis Dexter was white.’

‘Someone at the funeral home taking colour blindness to new heights, perhaps,’ Irving murmured. He motioned at the filthy cotton sheet that covered everything except the corpse’s head. ‘Can you…?’

‘Just a moment. David, would you mind getting a few shots?’

Using Tom’s camera, I took photographs of the body, then Tom nodded for Kyle to remove the sheet. The morgue assistant carefully took hold of the makeshift shroud. The fluids released by decomposition had made it adhere to the body, so that it came free only reluctantly. When he saw what was underneath he stopped, looking uncertainly at Tom.

The corpse was naked.

‘Oh, definitely a pattern here,’ Irving said, sounding amused.