Spider Bones

The old black-and-whites were as I recalled.

I glanced only briefly at the head and shoulders portrait of Private Alvarez in uniform. No smile. No use.

I picked up the shot of nine sweaty soldiers dressed in sleeve-rolled fatigues and studied the man with the name Alvarez scrawled in ink across his chest.

Excitement fizzed through me.

Alvarez’s face was turned from the lens, as though he’d been distracted just as the shutter clicked. He wasn’t smiling, but, surprised, perhaps curious or frightened, had unconsciously drawn back his lips.

Revealing most of his upper front teeth.

I was searching for a magnifier when Danny appeared.

“Any luck?” He set two steaming mugs on his desk.

“Maybe. Where’s your hand lens?”

“Let’s use one of the Luxos.”

We hurried into the lab.

Danny lit the fluorescent bulb on a round, table-mounted magnifier. I positioned the photo, then manipulated the arm until Alvarez’s mouth came into focus under the lens. We both leaned in, Danny’s head so close I could feel his ear next to mine.

And there it was. A bunny-shaped shadow on Alvarez’s right central incisor. A minute point of light sparked from the bunny’s bow tie.

“Hee-haw!”

“Hee-haw!”

We bumped hips like jocks bump chests in an end zone.

“Our computer geeks will magnify the image so that the tooth is one-to-one with the fragment of sparkle you found. Then they can do a superimposition. Given the circumstances of the Huey crash, the fact that the biological profile fits Alvarez perfectly, and the dental evidence, the ID should be solid.”

“And you can try sequencing mitochondrial DNA, assuming a maternal relative can be found.”

“We can indeed.”

Beyond the glass wall that sealed off the lab I noticed Dimitriadus cross the lobby carrying another cardboard box. This one appeared heavy, probably books. When he’d disappeared from sight, Danny and I returned to his office.

The coffee was now tepid. We sipped it anyway.

“So Alvarez was found shortly after the crash and buried in North Carolina as Spider Lowery,” I said. “Lapasa was found eight months later, in the same general area, with Spider Lowery’s dog tag. Since Lowery was already ID’ed, Lapasa went to Tan Son Nhut as an unknown, then to CIL-THAI, finally here.”

“And, thanks to us, Luis and Xander are both going home.”

“As is Spider,” I said.

“Well-done.” Danny beamed.

We clinked mugs.

Sipped.

But was it? The loose ends bugged me.

“I can understand the mix-up with Alvarez and Lowery. But why was Lapasa wearing Spider’s dog tag?”

“Good question.”

“And was Lapasa on that chopper? If so, why?”

“Technically that’s two questions.”

“And how did Spider end up in Quebec?”

“We’ve got a foursome! But you forget the most intriguing question of all.”

I gave Danny a “go on” look.

“How did we let each other slip away?”

“Come on, Danny. This is serious.”

“Perhaps I am too.”

Whoa!

“You love your wife.”

“Madly,” he said. “That’s a problem.”

There was a beat of embarrassed silence. Then, “Just kidding.” Big goofy smile. “I keep thinking about my conversation with Nickie Lapasa.” Danny slid a pen through his fingers, tapping the tip then the butt to his blotter. “Why was Nickie so opposed to the idea of DNA testing that might positively identify his brother’s remains?”

“If the rumors about organized crime are true, my initial hunch was probably dead-on.”