fluorescent pink twine suspended between stakes hammered into the ground. They were all wearing Tyvek protective suits and rubber boots. Beyond them were three more Tyvek-suited people standing at waist-high sifting trays suspended over large plastic buckets. A table near the sifting station was laden with plastic bags, paper bags, evidence labels, photograph markers and other tools needed to document evidence emerging from the excavation.
A man was walking across to them by following plastic squares placed on the ground like stepping-stones. He pulled his mask down as he approached, revealing a lined, olive-colored face. His protective suit was baggy and slightly twisted off the mid-line of his slight frame but his voice was strong.
‘You must be the anthropologists. I’m Leonard Penman, the ME.’
Mark introduced Steelie and Jayne to the Chief Medical Examiner. They shook gloved hands.
‘We’re not completely backwards out here,’ Dr Penman said with a smile, ‘but we’re honest enough to say that we haven’t had to deal with multiple sets of buried remains, let alone mostly skeletonized remains. Even our biggest recovery effort – the commuter jet crash last winter – was fleshed remains and we had DMORT’s help on that one.’
Jayne nodded. She and Steelie had enormous respect for the regional Disaster Mortuary Operational Response Teams that were made up of forensic scientists and dispatched to scenes of mass fatalities to provide immediate human identification services.
Dr Penman waved a hand to indicate the yard behind him. ‘As you can see, the criminalists have already put a grid over the area where we started. We’re working over there by the fence first because it’s where the soil was recently disturbed – by a dog, most likely – which exposed the remains that are putting out the stink. We’ve got Dr Greg Parker from the university here. He’s the archaeologist and it’s his grad students from the Anthropology Department over there sifting the soil. I’ve been told that you two can advise on strategy? If so, you’ve arrived just in time because we’re reaching the bigger body parts now.’
Steelie said, ‘I guess the best thing at this stage would be for us to have a closer look at what you’re dealing with.’
‘Follow me,’ said Dr Penman, with something like relish.
Scott emerged from the garage and called out, ‘Thirty-two One. I need you for a second.’
They looked to Dr Penman, who said, ‘Go on. We’re not going anywhere.’
Scott held a clear evidence bag with something inside it. He pointed inside the garage.
‘You see that cabinet against the back wall?’
Jayne saw a metal wardrobe. A criminalist was collecting and documenting items that were on the labeled shelves.
Scott continued. ‘OK, next to it is a huge chest freezer where King probably kept body parts. But he used that cabinet for a different bunch of mementos. This was in there.’ He held up the bag to show the large cream-colored purse inside. ‘There wasn’t much in it, but one thing it did have was an Oregon driver’s license for one Eleanor Patterson.’
Steelie let out a low whistle.
‘What else is in the purse?’ Jayne asked.
‘Like I said, not much.’ He glanced at it. ‘An empty coin purse, an empty wallet, a powder compact, a tube of lipstick, and a, ah, sanitary pad.’ He hurried on. ‘Looks like he kept belongings from other vics on the shelves.’
He started to go back inside but Jayne said, ‘Wait.’
He stopped and looked at her.
Jayne was thinking about the contents of the purse and about Patterson’s arms as they’d seen them at Critter Central. In her mind’s eye, she could see the sunspots on the forearms. ‘You told us you’d ID’d Patterson from the surgical plate on her arm. How old did they say she was?’
‘Fifty-one when she went missing. Why?’
She ignored his question and held out her hand. ‘Can I see that purse?’
He hesitated.
She turned her hand and flicked her fingers toward her palm. ‘I know it’s evidence but you haven’t sealed the bag yet. I’m gloved.’
He handed over the bag.
She reached inside and pulled the purse so its open top was aligned with the top of the evidence bag. Looking inside, she could see the lipstick, compact, and the two wallets. Then she used her finger to expand the small compartment in the lining. She could see a maxi pad in there, still folded in its wrapper but the glue at the edges wasn’t holding it closed. She handed the evidence bag back to Scott.
‘You’re going to want to look inside the pad.’
‘What?’
‘You should section it – carefully.’
He only paused for a moment longer before gesturing for them to follow him. He called out to the criminalist working at the far end of the garage. ‘Tait.’
Scott put on surgical gloves to pull the purse from the evidence bag and put it on the table in front of the young man. ‘Doc this inside and out.’
The criminalist labeled the purse and photographed the exterior and interior. Once he was finished, Scott pulled the maxi pad from the inner pocket and put it on the table.
‘OK, now open this up.’
Tait gave Scott a look like he thought this was a joke.
‘
Tait instantly composed himself. ‘Yes, sir.’ He picked up his camera and photographed the item with an evidence label before touching it. Then he used a pair of tweezers to peel off the thin plastic wrapping.
The pad was folded into thirds and he eased it flat before looking at Scott for direction.
Scott turned to Jayne. ‘You said section it?’
She nodded.
He looked back to Tait, who used a scalpel to begin an incision on the side of the pad. Then he stopped, picked up a magnifying glass, and used it to look at the pad again. ‘There’s already a cut here, sir.’
Scott leaned down and looked. ‘OK, peel it back from the existing cut.’
Tait carefully pulled back several layers to reveal an object that had nothing to do with moisture absorption. It was a small piece of paper, folded many times and pressed flat as though with an iron.
The criminalist photographed the item with a ruler and an evidence label before opening it with his tweezers. Then he stepped back to let the others see. Visible inside the folds of the paper was something written in faint pencil:
Jayne spoke. ‘You said the shelters gave the women code names. That might be a code she was trying to keep hidden.’
Before she even finished speaking, Scott pulled his cell phone from its holster, his eyes fixed on the piece of paper. Jayne and Steelie started to leave and heard him say, ‘Eric. Is seven-nine-three Cobb an address on your list? You’re there right now? OK, check this: Patterson’s code may have been Agapanthus.’
Just outside the garage, Scott caught up with Jayne. ‘How in hell did you know to look in the pad?’
‘You said Patterson was at least fifty-one years old. She was likely menopausal. So the pad didn’t fit. It was possible, but not probable.’
TWENTY-EIGHT
Eric hung up from Scott’s call and regarded Aviva Goldsmith carefully as they stood in the reception area of Sanctuary House.
‘We have reason to believe that you would have known Eleanor Patterson as Agapanthus.’
Instead of looking at the photo again, Aviva Goldsmith’s eyes stayed on Eric’s and he saw her left eyelid twitch. She steadied it with a finger.
He said quietly, ‘Please look at the photo again.’
