condos, shops, and bistros, has caught the interest of developers as more fitting for mixed-use commercial expansion than for use as county offices, parking lots, and a morgue. American Express gold cards, cappuccino makers, and Hornets and Panthers club seats may soon flourish where scalpels, gurneys, and autopsy tables used to hold sway.
Twenty minutes after finally donning the panties, I pulled into the MCME lot. Across College, the homeless were being served hot dogs and lemonade from folding tables. Blankets covered the moss strip between sidewalk and curb, displaying shoes, shirts, and socks for the taking. A score of indigents milled about, nowhere to go, in no hurry to get there.
Locking the car, I walked to the low-rise redbrick structure and was buzzed through the glass doors. After greeting the ladies up front, I checked in with Tim Larabee, the Mecklenburg County ME. He led me to a computer that had been set aside for crash victim processing and pulled up case number 387. It was probably violating the terms of my banishment, but I had to take the chance.
DNA testing was being done at the Charlotte-Mecklenburg crime laboratory, and those results were not yet available. But the histology was ready. The samples I'd cut from the ankle and foot bones had been shaved into slivers less than one hundred microns thick, processed, stained, and placed on slides. I got them and settled at a microscope.
Bone is a miniature universe in which birth and death occur constantly. The basic unit is the osteon, composed of concentric loops of bone, a canal, osteocytes, vessels, and nerves. In living tissue osteons are born, nourished, and eventually replaced by newer units.
When magnified and viewed under polarized light, osteons resemble tiny volcanoes, ovoid cones with central craters and flanks that spread out to flatlands of primary bone. The number of volcanoes increases with age, as does the count of abandoned calderas. By determining the density of these features one arrives at an age estimate.
First I looked for signs of abnormality. In the cross-section of a long bone, thinning of the shaft, scalloping of its inner or outer edges, or abnormal deposition of woven bone can indicate problems, including fracture healing or unusually rapid remodeling. I saw no such anomalies.
Satisfied that a realistic age estimate was possible, I increased the magnification to one hundred and inserted a ruled ocular micrometer into the eyepiece. The grid contained one hundred squares, with each side measuring one millimeter at the level of the section. Moving from slide to slide, I studied the miniature landscapes, carefully counting and recording the features within each grid. When I'd finished and plugged my totals into the proper formulae, I had my answer.
The owner of the foot had been at least sixty-five, probably nearer to seventy.
I leaned back and considered that. No one on the manifest was close to that age range. What were the options?
One. An unlisted traveler was on board. A septuagenarian deadheader? A senior citizen stowaway? Unlikely.
Two. A passenger had carried the foot on board. Ryan said they'd found no one whose profile suggested an interest in body parts.
Three. The foot was unrelated to Air TransSouth 228.
Then where did it come from?
I dug a card from my purse, checked the number, and dialed.
“Swain County Sheriff 's Department.”
“Lucy Crowe, please.”
“Who's calling.”
I gave my name and waited. Moments later I heard the gravelly voice.
“I probably shouldn't be talking to you.”
“You've heard.”
“I've heard.”
“I could try to explain, but I don't think I understand the situation myself.”
“I don't know you well enough to judge.”
“Why
“Gut instinct.”
“I'm working to clear this up.”
“That'd be good. You've got 'em buzzing at the top of the heap.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just had a call from Parker Davenport.”
“The lieutenant governor?”
“Himself. Ordered me to keep you off the crash site.”
“Doesn't he have better things to worry about?”
“Apparently you're a hot topic. My deputy took a call this morning. Fellow wanted to know where you live and where you were staying up here.”
“Who was he?”
“Wouldn't give a name, hung up when my deputy insisted.”
