The file also contained a standard DD form recording the loss incident, and unclassified documents compiled by analysts attempting to determine what had happened to Alvarez.
An hour after leaving the J-2 shop, Danny and I turned to Luis Alvarez’s medical and dental records.
Only to be disappointed.
Nothing in the antemorts positively linked the missing Spec 2 to the bones accessioned as 2010-37. Either Alvarez had enjoyed the best health on the planet or, like Lowery, his records were incomplete.
“Maria Alvarez died in nineteen eighty-seven,” I read aloud. “No other maternal relative provided a DNA sample.”
“We probably won’t get sequencing on 2010-37, anyway,” Danny said.
I agreed. “Probably not.”
“Nothing excludes Alvarez from being your Lumberton guy.”
I agreed again. “No. Or he could be 1968-979.”
I thought a moment.
“Think it would be worthwhile trying to track down the witnesses? Maybe one saw something that never made the files.”
Danny returned to the statements. Read.
“The maintenance worker was a guy named Harlan Kramer from Abilene, Texas. Kramer was regular army. If he stayed in, it would be fairly easy to find him.”
Danny made a note.
“Ready to hit it?” he asked.
I nodded.
Danny and I moved to the lab.
Though some bones were damaged by erosion, trauma, or animal scavenging, most of 1968-979’s skeleton was in pretty good shape. While Danny opened an anthropology update file, I laid out my usual stick figure man.
Skull. Jaw. Arms. Legs. Sternum. Clavicles. Ribs. Vertebrae. Only the kneecaps and some hand and foot parts were missing.
Didn’t matter. I knew straight off that 1968-979 was neither Spider Lowery nor Luis Alvarez. So did Danny.
“This dude was a tree-topper.”
I nodded agreement. “Lowery and Alvarez were both five-nine. This man was much taller.”
“What the hell is he doing with Spider Lowery’s tag?”
I had no explanation.
“We’ve got dentition.” Danny checked the jaw. “Two molars and a second bicuspid on the right. Two molars on the left.” He rotated the skull to sit palate up. “Two molars on the right, two on the left, and a second bicuspid. Ten teeth. I’ll get X-rays.”
Feeling a vibration at my hip, I checked my BlackBerry.
“It’s Katy.”
“Take it. I’ll do inventory.”
“Hi, sweetie.”
“I am so
Great.
“Lily is a complete wack job.”
“Where are you?” Anticipating a less than pleasant exchange, I put distance between myself and Danny.
“Pearl Harbor.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Where should I start? First, there’s the trip into town. Ms. Head Case has to ride in front so she won’t get sick. Guess who ends up stuffed in back? Then we get to the park and at least a million people are waiting in line. Guess who has to sit on a bench so her feet won’t hurt? Big surprise, island girl! You’re wearing heels that would kill the average pole dancer. Then—”
“Katy.”
“—we have to eat at this totally gross ptomaine haven because Lily can’t handle—”
“Katy.”
“What?” Snapped.
“She’s going through a rough patch.”
“I’m not?”
“Is Lily really so bad?”
