206 BONES

I’d finished the pasta and moved to the study when the phone rang. I grabbed it.

“Say you love me.” Chris Corcoran sounded excessively pleased with himself. Ebullient, almost. It was annoying as hell.

“I love you.”

“A lot?”

“What did you find, Chris?”

“You used to be fun.”

“I also used to be queen of the hop.”

“No you weren’t.”

“I’ll ask for a recount.”

“Be that way.” Mock hurt. “You remembered correctly. ML. A pathologist named Miranda Leaver did the anthropology on Laszlo Tot’s bones. Leaver was in Chicago for a one-year postdoc at UIC. No one at the CCME remembers much about her. One tech recalls that while here she got screwed over by her husband, got divorced, and went back to using her maiden name.”

“Briel!”

My yelp sent Birdie shooting down the hall.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Surprised. “After getting dumped, Briel went to France to pick up the shattered pieces. Her therapy? A cram course in bones for nonanthropologists.”

“Where in France?” I could feel my nerves humming.

“Montpellier.”

I grabbed paper and pen. “Do you know the name of the institution-”

“Down, girl. I can dial a phone, too. The program was offered jointly through the University of Montpellier and the Department of Forensic Sciences at the Hopital Lapeyronie.

“While in Montpellier, Miranda Leaver, now back to her maiden name, Miranda Briel, became more French than the French. Bought tres chic shoes, a beret, started saying je m’appelle Marie-Andrea. Eventually, she met a garcon with similar leanings. Or maybe he was the cause of her Gallic reawakening. Who knows?”

Normally, I’d have smiled at Chris’s French pronunciation. I was too torqued by his news.

“An archaeologist.”

“Voila.”

“His name?” I knew the answer. Just wanted to hear it.

“Sebastien Raines.”

“Did you learn anything about him?”

“While a student, Raines was nailed for pilfering artifacts. Apparently, he beat the snot out of the prof who fingered him. He was kicked from the program and, for a while, moved around working archaeological digs for pay. Eventually he split la Republique for La Belle Province. He’s reputed to have a temper, and to carry a chip on his shoulder the size of Marseille.”

“Against?”

“PhDs in general, academics in particular.”

My laptop trilled as an e-mail landed. I crossed to it.

BTrainer@buffalo.edu.

“Thanks, Chris. This is really great.”

“Was it this Briel who jammed you up with Edward Allen Jurmain?”

“I think so. Or Raines. He’s her husband now. The two have a scheme to get rich off forensics.”

“Which hop?”

“What?”

“Over which did you reign? There were a lot in the old hood.”

“All of them.”

I clicked open Trainer’s e-mail.

The message was succinct.

Its last line screamed from the page.

39

Molar B. The cavity was restored with Heliomolar, a resin whose elemental composition and atomic percentages, to my knowledge, are unique. Al 2.85. Si 87.4. Yb 9.75.

Molar A. The debris in the wear facet produced a spectrum identical in elemental composition and atomic percentages to that obtained from molar B. Al 2.85. Si 87.4. Yb 9.75. It is my opinion this facet also contains residue from Heliomolar resin.

Trainer had included a few comments.

Heliomolar HB Resin Composite is an esthetic, high-viscosity, packable, light- cured restorative material designed for use in posterior teeth (Classes I and II).

Heliomolar is more radiopaque than enamel and dentin, and shows up brighter on X-rays.

Heliomolar is produced by Ivoclar Vivadent Inc., in Amherst, New York.

I reread the last line, fingers tight on the mouse. Heliomolar was introduced on the market in 1984.

The Lac Saint-Jean child’s tetracycline-stained molar was filled with a resin called Heliomolar. In life, that molar had butted cusps with the molar I’d found in Bergeron’s tub. It had Heliomar residue in its wear facet. Both molars had Carabelli’s cusps.

Heliomolar was introduced in 1984.

The Sainte-Monique picknickers drowned in 1958.

The Gouvrards crashed in 1967.

Again, I was faced with two scenarios.

One, both teeth belonged to the Lac Saint-Jean child. Ergo, the vics were neither the Gouvrards nor the Sainte-Monique drowning victims, or;

Two, neither tooth belonged to the Lac Saint-Jean child. Ergo, both had been taken from the tub to replace that child’s real second molars.

By Briel.

A maelstrom of emotions surged through my mind.

I hadn’t missed the staining. Or the restoration. They hadn’t been there because I’d viewed the child’s real teeth.

Before Briel swapped them out.

Briel found the phalanges.

My ass, she did. She palmed them from the lab and planted them at Oka.

Briel found the bullet track.