had driven his car off a boat landing and drowned. I was deleting his name from the possible-victim category when a troubling thought stopped my hand. Why was Aiker found in the back of his vehicle?
A manageable question. Shoving back my chair, I went in pursuit of an answer.
Larabee was working in the stinky room. I knew the reason as soon as I entered.
Aiker’s skin was mottled olive and brown, and most of his flesh had been converted to grave wax. Exposure to the air was not improving him.
What remained of Aiker’s lungs lay sliced and splayed on a cork-board at the foot of the autopsy table. Other decaying organs rested in a hanging scale.
“How’s it going?” I asked, drawing shallow breaths.
“Extensive adipocere formation. Lungs are collapsed and putrefied. Liquid putrefaction in the airways.” Larabee sounded as frustrated as I felt. “What air spaces remain look diluted, but that may be due to air bubbles.”
I waited while Larabee squeezed Aiker’s stomach contents into a jar and handed the specimen to Joe Hawkins.
“Accidental drowning?”
“I’m not finding anything to suggest otherwise. Fingernails are broken, looks like the hands may have been abraded. The poor bastard must have struggled to get out of the car, probably tried to break a window.”
“Is there any way to determine absolutely that death was by drowning?”
“Pretty tough call after five years in the drink. Could test for diatoms, I suppose.”
“Diatoms?”
“Microorganisms found in plankton and freshwater and marine sediments. Been around since shortly after the big bang. Exist by the zillions. In fact, some soils are formed entirely of the little buggers. Ever hear of diatomaceous earth?”
“My sister uses DE to filter her pool.”
“Exactly. The stuff is mined commercially for use in abrasives and filtering aids.”
Larabee continued talking as he opened and inspected Aiker’s stomach.
“It’s really a kick to look at diatoms under magnification. They’re beautiful little silica shells in all sorts of shapes and configurations.”
“Remind me what diatoms have to do with drowning.”
“Theoretically, certain waters contain certain genera of diatoms. So, if you find diatoms in the organs, the victim has drowned. Some forensic pathologists even think you can tie a drowning victim to a specific body of water.”
“You sound skeptical.”
“Some of my colleagues hold a lot of stock in diatoms. I don’t.”
“Why?”
Larabee shrugged. “People swallow diatoms.”
“If we could find diatoms in the marrow cavity of a long bone, couldn’t we conclude they’d gotten there by cardiac action?”
Larabee thought about that.
“Yeah. We probably could.” He pointed a scalpel at me. “We’ll have a femur tested.”
“We should also send a sample of the lake water. If they find diatoms in the femur they can compare the profiles.”
“Good point.”
I waited while Larabee cut lengthwise along Aiker’s esophagus.
“Is it significant that he was found in the rear seat?”
“The weight of the engine would have pulled the front of the vehicle down, leaving the last bubble of air trapped against the roof in back. When victims can’t get car doors open, they crawl back and up to keep breathing as long as possible. Or sometimes the corpse just floats to the rear.”
I nodded.
“We’ll run a tox screen, of course. And crime scene’s processing the car and boat ramp. But I’m not finding anything suspicious.”
Aiker’s clothing and personal effects were drying on the counter. I walked over for a look.
It was like telescoping the agent’s last morning on earth into a few soggy, mud-coated items.
Jockeys. T. Blue-and-white-striped long sleeve shirt. Jeans. Athletic socks. Adidas cross trainers. Black Polarfleece hooded jacket.
Did Aiker put his socks on before his jeans? His pants before his shirt? I felt sadness for a life so suddenly ended.
Beside the clothing lay the contents of Aiker’s pockets.
Comb. Keys. Miniature Swiss army knife. Twenty-three dollars in folding money. Seventy-four cents in coins. Wallet-sized billfold with FWS badge and ID. Leather cardholder.
