Freezing

‘How many do you have?’

‘About a hundred.’

‘And how many have you matched up to bodies?’

‘Seven so far.’

‘Not very many.’

‘Yeah, but if one of those seven was, say, your father, would that matter? Those seven count for a lot.’

‘True. Sorry, I keep applying the business models we use at my company and I guess they don’t really apply. So where do you keep the closed files?’

She pointed at the top drawer of one of the cabinets and then watched as Gene walked over as though to open it.

‘We keep them locked for obvious reasons,’ she said.

‘I was just interested. Must look kinda empty. You got any plans to fill it up faster?’

‘Well, if you’d follow me, Mr Enthusiasm.’

This time he did follow her, past the kitchen to turn into the lab across from the bathroom.

‘This is where Steelie does the odontograms and the biometrics and we digitize relevant photos. It’s basically an anthro report done off of antemortem instead of the body.’

Gene was turning round, looking at different items on the counters and walls.

‘And this,’ Jayne said, pointing at a computer terminal at one end of the counter, ‘is where Steelie runs the All Coroners Bulletin, which is one of our best tools to speed up the rate with which we close cases and fill that file drawer.’

He looked curious. ‘How does that work?’

‘Basically, if we come across particularly identifiable characteristics that weren’t included on the original missing person report, we get to notify coroners with unidentified bodies through this dedicated network.’

He whistled. ‘That’s pretty good.’

He looked preoccupied for a moment then asked quickly, ‘You made any ID’s through it yet?’

‘No, but before you spread any more of your good cheer, I’m calling the glass half full on this one.’

‘Yeah, you might be right about that.’ He looked at the computer and lapsed into silence.

Jayne said, ‘I’ll just go to the ladies’ and then we’ll head over to my place.’

When she came out, she looked into the lab but there was no sign of Gene. She shut off the lights there and moved forward to her office. She found him sitting at her desk, revolving slowly in her chair.

He smiled at her. ‘I can see why you keep going.’

‘Oh?’

‘You’ve broken the big problem down into smaller pieces, haven’t you? I bet you do a lot of compartmentalizing.’

‘I don’t know about that. But I do like it if I can tell when something’s over, when a job’s done.’

‘What about in the rest of your life?’

‘What about it?’

‘Do you compartmentalize there, too?’

‘I don’t know! Come on, let’s go.’

Fifteen minutes later, she and Gene were walking through the front door of her apartment. While he used the bathroom, she put on the kettle and wiped down the table on the deck. When Gene emerged, she indicated the coffee fixings.

‘How do you take it?’

He called back to her as he walked over to the bookshelves. ‘Black, thanks.’

As she put the grounds into the press, she watched him, noticing how his height was even more obvious now that he was in her house. He was reaching for a book on a high shelf that she needed a footstool to reach. He flicked through the book and then returned it to the shelf.

‘No books on forensics?’

‘They’re all at the Agency. I rarely want to look at them when I get home.’

He turned and looked at her with a surprised smile. ‘You have limits when it comes to forensics? I’m shocked.’

Jayne poured hot water over the coffee. ‘All I’m saying is, Spitz and Fisher isn’t my first choice for bedtime reading.’

‘So you do compartmentalize.’

‘What is it with your fascination as to whether or not I compartmentalize, as you put it?’ She carried the tray of coffee and cups out to the deck.

Gene followed her out. ‘I’m just curious about how you keep on with the forensics and still seem to have a normal life. I wasn’t very successful at it.’

They settled down at the table and Jayne sugared her coffee. ‘Well, I never worked for the Bureau for one thing, and I never said I have a normal life.’

‘But you’re expecting a hot date soon, right?’

‘Gene!’ Jayne spat coffee in her surprise.

He grinned at her. ‘Hey, people who’ve done the type of work we’ve done sometimes have trouble finding someone who “gets” them. And I take it from your reaction that you don’t get a lot of hot dates.’

‘I didn’t say that.’ Jayne wiped her mouth.

‘You missed a spot.’ Gene leaned over and presumptuously wiped his thumb beneath her lower lip. ‘I was really just trying to find out if you had a boyfriend right now. The way you checked your phone earlier . . .?’

‘No. I mean . . . no.’

‘Ri-ight.’ He sounded unconvinced.

‘OK,’ Jayne countered. ‘Since you’re so smug, why haven’t you mentioned your fabulous wife and kids back at your massive condo with attached two-car garage?’

Gene inclined his head. ‘Because it’s a house – my mom’s house, incidentally – not a condo, with a one-car garage that’s filled with other stuff so there’s no room for the car. No wife, but there’ve been some . . . dalliances.’

‘Well, I bet your garage has everything labeled and organized because you like to compartmentalize, just as you allege I do. Am I right?’

He looked thoughtful, then admitted, ‘Pretty much.’

‘Yeah, I bet your mom loves having you around.’

‘Actually, she passed away.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

Gene shook his head. ‘No, it was for the best. Alzheimer’s.’

‘Oh.’

‘Trust me, you don’t want to live with someone who has that kind of dementia. She didn’t know who she was most of the time and she sure as hell didn’t know who I was by the end. It’s pretty weird, I gotta tell ya, to have your own mother not recognize you. Makes you wonder who you are.’

‘Shit, Gene,’ Jayne breathed.

He shook his head and smiled lightly. ‘She’s been gone a few years now. And I worked out who I am.’

A car passed below them on the street, its occupants singing loudly along with their stereo. Their voices died away with the air and were replaced with the sound of cricket calls.

Gene drained his cup and stood. ‘I should probably get going.’

‘I’ll drive you back.’

‘No need. You look tired.’

‘It’s no trouble . . .’

‘Seriously, no need. But you said you had a copy of that photo we took at Kigali Airport?’

‘Right, I do. Give me a second to find it.’

They went indoors and she left Gene there while she went outside and down the stairs to her storage room off the driveway. It took a few minutes to find the right box and she carried the whole thing back upstairs.

He met her at the door and they went through the box together on the dining table, looking at photos from Bosnia. Streets of shelled houses in Brcko, carts of ripe peppers for sale on the shoulder of the road to Tuzla, a