One Grave Too Many

“No marks,” she said.

“So that means that the murderer didn’t cut off the head and take it with him?” asked Korey.

“Probably not. It’d be hard to do it without making cutting marks on the vertebrae.”

Her excavators even found the small hyoid bone; the bone that anchors the tongue and the only bone not attached to any other bone. However, most of the terminal phalanxes of the toes were missing, and all of the terminal phalanxes of the right hand were missing. She suspected that many of the smaller bones would show up in the sifted material.

With the bones laid out and the right scapula, humerus and clavicle juxtaposed, there was a clear pattern of damage that she had seen in the collarbone when Frank first showed it to her. The damage included the second, third, fourth and fifth ribs, which were broken where the scapula body would have covered them. At the place where those bones cluster together some force had crushed them.

She examined the scapula with the hand lens. Part of the damage to it had left a straight indentation in the crushed bone.

“That looks like it hurt,” said Korey.

“I imagine he passed out, if he was conscious at all.”

“Can you tell what happened?”

“Whatever force hit him came from his rear and was focused over the scapula and not distributed.” Diane gestured with her hand, pretending to hit the scapula. “It’s more damage than a person swinging a weapon could inflict.”

“What then?”

“I don’t know.” She placed the bones back in their place. “He also has a healed break in his left tibia. Maybe he’s got an X ray somewhere. It will positively identify him, if we ever get a clue to who he is.”

“What else do you know about him?”

“He was muscular.” She pointed out the well-developed muscle attachments on his arms and legs. “Bones are plastic and continue to remodel throughout life. Something like hard work or hard exercise shows up on them. Stronger muscles need larger attachments to hold on to.”

She told him the results of the stable isotope analyses she’d had done on the clavicle.

“Now, that is totally cool. You know, you should add a forensic unit to the museum. We have plenty of room on the third floor.”

“One of the board members suggested the same thing. I came here to get away from forensic work.”

“Didn’t work, did it? Maybe the universe is telling you something.”

“Yeah, that I’m an idiot.”

Diane would like to have used the skull to determine race. Without it she’d have to use other methods-most of which involve measurement, and all of which are less than precise.

She started with the long bones. She placed the left humerus on the osteometric board-a wooden device consisting of a platform on which the bone is laid, a “headboard” against which one end of the long bone is positioned, and a sliding “footboard” to mark the length. She recorded the measurement on her computer.

“Most of what I’m doing now is measuring,” she said. “It’s like watching grass grow.”

“I was about to get that idea,” Korey said. “I’ll go out to the lab and work a while. Let me know if I can bring you anything.”

Diane continued, losing track of time in the minutiae of the detailed measurements on different parts of the bones. She recorded each of them in her computer program, recollecting Kevin asking her at the party why he would have to learn math. If he could see her now, it would seem that was all she did, but math often gives the best information. Measuring is tedious, but she taught herself to like it for its precision. The math would give her the best guess on the race of the individual, and she needed the race for a good estimation of the height.

The ring of her cell phone made her jump. Perhaps she needed to change it to a melody.

“Dr. Fallon, this is the front desk. There is a Dr. Duncan here to see you.”

Dr. Duncan, she thought. Who’s that? Then she remembered. Frank’s brother, Linc. “Would you ask him to come to the second-floor staff lounge? You’ll have to give him directions.”

Diane left the storage room and locked the door behind her. Korey was still working on the documents.

“I have a guest coming up,” she said. “Frank’s brother. I’m going to be gone for a while. If you leave, go ahead and lock up. I have a key.”

She went into the small bathroom near Korey’s office, washed her hands and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked terrible. She ran wet fingers through her hair. It didn’t do much good. “Well, he’s not here for a date,” she told her reflection.

As she left the conservation lab and crossed the lobby to the staff lounge, Linc had just come up the elevator and was walking through the doors to the east wing. He held two large pizza boxes and a bag, presumably of drinks.

“I hope you like pizza,” he said.

“I do, but how many people were you planning on feeding?”

He smiled. “You never know.”

He reminded her of Frank. Bringing too much food was apparently a family trait. Her eyes started to tear up. She turned her head away and led him into the lounge to a table in the corner.

Linc set the boxes down and pulled out the drinks. He gave her a large bottle of water. “You look dehydrated.”

“I’m fine. It’s just a bruised kidney.”

“No such thing as just a bruised kidney. You sound like some of the athletes I’ve treated. I’ll tell you what I tell them. You’re not invincible.”

“How’s Frank?” Linc was silent for a long moment. “What? What’s happened?” A sickening panic rose in the pit of her stomach.

“He’s developed an infection.”

“Oh, God. How serious?”

“Serious enough. They’re keeping him in ICU.”

Diane stood. “I need to go see him.”

Linc took her hand. “He’s sleeping. Eat something. You aren’t a vegetarian, are you? I ordered pepperoni on the pizzas.”

“No. I’m not a vegetarian.” Diane got some paper plates from a cabinet in the staff lounge and they settled in to eating the pizza. She was having a hard time keeping tears from forming.

“Frank is always bringing more food than we can possibly eat too. Must be genetic.”

“Comes from having three growing boys in the family, I guess. We always needed lots of food on hand.”

Diane selected a slice of pizza and took a bite. It was still warm and tasted good. She never realized she was hungry until she ate something.

“Tell me what this is about,” said Linc after several bites.

Diane told him the entire story, from Frank first showing her the bone to her possession of the rest of the skeleton, sans skull, in the storage room.

“So you think that what happened to you and to Frank is related to the murder of his friends?”

“Yes.”

“What do they have to gain by shooting Frank?”

“Frank and I are the only ones working on an alternate theory of the crime. The police aren’t interested. Frank is the only one protecting Star. Without him, she would stand a good chance of getting convicted. There are flaws in my theory, but I have a gut feeling that what’s happened to us is directly related to the murder of the Boones.”

“It does seem that way. If you’re correct, then you’re also correct in assuming Frank’s still in danger. What were you going to do before we arrived?”

“He’s hired security to watch the Boone house-to keep relatives from carrying off Star’s possessions. I was going to ask them to put someone outside Frank’s room. Frank also has friends on the police force here. I’m sure they would be glad to help.”

“Why don’t you go home and get a good night’s sleep? Have you had one since you were attacked?”