“The ambassador’s daughter and her friend are here, so only one young woman remains missing?”
“Patricia Eduardo.”
“And the septic tank victim.”
“Yes. Though that could be Patricia.”
Embarrassment must have shown on my face.
“You had no power to stop this Diaz.”
“I could have done a more thorough exam while I had the chance.”
We were silent for a moment.
“But I do have a couple of ideas.”
I told him about the cat hair sample.
“What do you hope to accomplish?”
“A profile might prove useful if a suspect is found.”
“Yes.” Noncommital.
“Dog hair nailed Wayne Williams for the Atlanta child murders.”
“Don’t be defensive, Temperance. I am agreeing with you.”
I swirled my coffee.
“It’s probably a dead end.”
“But if Monsieur Gagne is willing to profile the hair, why not?” I told him my plans for the CT scans.
“That sounds more promising.”
I hoped so.
“Did you find the two requests I left on your desk?”
LaManche referred to the
“The skull may not be human. In any case, it does not appear to be a recent death. The torso is another story. Please begin with that.”
“Any possibles?”
“Robert Clement is a small-time drug dealer in western Quebec who recently branched out on his own.”
“Without paying kickback to the Angels.”
LaManche nodded. “Can’t allow that.”
“Bad for business.”
“Clement came to Montreal in early May and vanished shortly thereafter. He was reported missing ten days ago.”
I raised my eyebrows. Bikers normally shunned the attention of law enforcement.
“An anonymous female caller.”
“I’ll get to it right away.”
Back in my office, I phoned Susanne Jean. She was not in, so I left a message.
Next I took the Paraiso sample to the DNA section. Gagne listened to my request, absently clicking a ballpoint pen.
“Intriguing question.”
“Yes.”
“Never done a cat.”
“Could be a place to make your name.”
“King of the Feline Double Helix.”
“Open niche.”
“Could call it Project Felix Helix.” The name of the cartoon cat sounded strange in French.
Gagne reached for Minos’s plastic container. “Shall I hold back a subsample?”
“Run everything. The Guatemalan lab has more.”
“Mind if I play around a bit, test a few techniques?”
“Knock yourself out.”
We signed evidence transfer forms, and I hurried back to my office.
Before facing the head and torso, I spent several minutes sifting through the mound on my blotter. I located LaManche’s request sheets, fished out the pink telephone slips, and shoved the rest aside. I was hoping for some sort of message from Ryan.
