Dead Secret (22 page)

“These are good,” said Diane. “Poignant to put a face on our caver.”

Diane was pleased with the way Neva was able to draw faces from skulls. Diane had taught her what a fleshed-out face would look like given specific underlying bone structures. She’d shown her how to calculate skin depths on the face, how to use the size of the nasal opening to find out the length of the nose, how to define the eyes. Neva picked up forensic art quickly. Diane also showed Neva how to use the sophisticated scanning software to have the computer draw the face. The computer drawing wasn’t as life-like as Neva’s drawings, but combining Neva’s artistic ability and the computer’s scanning ability made the work a lot quicker.

“Yes, it is sad. His girlfriend too—I’m guessing it’s his girlfriend. I wonder what happened to her. She must not have known what became of him.”

“Probably not.”

“Unless she conspired to leave him in the cave,” said Neva.

Diane laughed. “You’ve been in crime too long. You’re getting a cynical, suspicious mind.”

“It does come with the territory, doesn’t it?”

“When I finish Caver Doe, we’ll do a newspaper article and run it with the drawings. Maybe there is someone around who will recognize them or remember them.”

Diane looked over at Plymouth Doe. “There’s another lost soul. When I’m finished with these measurements, you can take this skull to the vault and let the laser scan her features and start building a face. When you finish, put her skull in that tank sitting on the counter.” Diane looked at all the drawings again before walking back to Plymoth Doe’s bones. “Really nice work,” she told Neva. She sprayed them down again with water.

“It’s really interesting to listen to Korey tell how he’s going to preserve the stuff from the car,” said Neva. “Do you know he froze all the magazines in a little battery-powered freezer he had in the van at the site?”

Diane nodded. “That immediately stopped any destructive chemical or biological processes going on. In his lab he’s using a process called vacuum freeze-drying. He’ll put the frozen magazines in a chamber and pump the air out and form a vacuum—that will dry them at freezing temperatures. It’s a method that changes the ice directly into gas so it never goes through a liquid state. The magazines will be dry documents when it’s finished.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Sometime when we have some downtime—if we ever do—you might enjoy spending some time in the conservation lab. They do interesting work.” Diane measured and recorded all the craniometric points on Plymouth Doe’s skull as she and Neva talked. The laser would do the same, but Diane still liked to take the measurements herself—as with caving, she liked to get to know the bones.

“You know,” said Neva, “I like the older crimes better than the new ones.”

“Less blood and putrid flesh,” said Diane.

“Yeah. And the tragedy is farther away.”

“I know what you mean,” Diane agreed.

Neva gestured toward the skeleton. “How is Korey handling her clothes?”

“There are several methods for working with waterlogged fabric, but I think he’s going to use a process that impregnates the material with silicone oil. Jin’ll have to look for trace and blood before any processing is done. I think he and Korey have come up with an experiment to see how much these methods affect the ability to do blood analysis. I know Korey wants to go to the fabric store to get different kinds of textiles for the experiment. He and Jin are writing a paper together.”

Diane finished measuring the skull and began her examination of the other bones. She started by feeling along the ribs with her fingers, searching for nicks.

“I can see how that kind of information helps us,” said Neva. “But what are Korey and the museum going to get out of the experiments?”

Diane looked up from the skull. “For one thing, archaeologists also look for blood residue. Even after thousands of years, they can still find protein markers from different kinds of animals on arrowheads. Same thing with ancient textiles they run across. It would be good for them to know how preservation techniques affect blood or other kinds of stains that might be on artifacts.”

“How do you know all this stuff?”

Diane looked up from the rib she was examining and paused a long moment, grinning. “I’ve got this really big museum connected to the crime lab and it knows all kinds of stuff.”

Neva hit her forehead with the heel of her hand.

“Speaking of the museum, how’s Mike doing?” asked Diane.

“Antsy and a little obnoxious about having to rest, if you can imagine Mike being obnoxious.”

Diane couldn’t. “He’s only been out of the hospital, what—two, three days?”

“That’s what I keep telling him. He wanted to come in to the museum today. I think I talked him out of it. But he’s really excited about his new job.”

“So is Shelly, the collection manager for Geology. She’s so glad Dr. Lymon is gone that I’m expecting her to be doing cartwheels down the halls. She and Lymon have gotten into it a few times.”

“I wanted to thank you for . . . well, you know, keeping me out of the harassment business. I know I shouldn’t have been such a coward.”

“Don’t worry about it. Sylvia Mercer’s witnessing the incident was all the evidence that mattered. David checked out Dr. Lymon, by the way, and she had an alibi for the day of the stabbing at the funeral.”

“That’s a relief.”

Diane was about to hand Plymouth Doe’s skull over to Neva when David called on the intercom.

“Diane, Jin and Korey want us in the conservation lab ASAP. Jin sounds excited.”

Chapter 33

“Jin just loves this job.” Neva grinned. “You know, he’s decided he likes caves too. He said he’d like to go with us sometime. I invited him to come to the caver club meeting at the museum.”

“You did tell him we don’t always discover bodies?” Diane covered the bones with a special absorbent material that she had saturated with water, hung her white lab coat on a wall peg and washed her hands.

Neva laughed. “I did. He and Korey came over for dinner last night and Mike showed him his album of caving photos. Have you seen it?”

Diane shook her head. “No, although I’d like to. I understand he’s been to some interesting caves. I just hope Jin doesn’t get the idea of cave diving,” said Diane.

“I think Mike was worried about that too. Jin mentioned that it’d be neat to combine his scuba diving with exploring underwater caves. Mike told him that when cave divers die, it’s usually from cave diving. That was a real conversation stopper.” Neva pushed the door open and held it for Diane. “I think it kind of hurt Jin’s feelings. He thinks Mike doesn’t like him because of the Luminol incident in the cave.”

“Is it true?” Diane secured the door behind her.

“No. I don’t think so. Mike tends to like everybody. He’s like that little kid who just knows there has to be a pony in a pile of manure that large. . . . He’s always such an optimist. In the past few months he’s been shot, stabbed, harassed, lost his assistantship, and he still thinks he’s the luckiest guy in the world.”

“That does sound like Mike. I’m sure he was only trying to make a point with Jin about just how dangerous cave diving is.” She and Neva headed for the conservation lab.

“What about ice caves? I understand they’re dangerous too,” Neva said.

“You thinking about this extremophile collecting job Mike is taking?”

“Yes. I know Mike is good, but . . .”

“It’s a very reputable company, and he’ll be working with a team. Like stuntmen in movies, they do a lot of work in advance and set everything up so they’ll be safe.”

“Still . . .”

“I know, but Mike is very safety conscious. He’s one of the best caving partners I’ve ever had—and that’s mainly because he has good sense when it comes to danger.”

They took the stairs down to the second floor and walked across to the conservation lab, where they met David at the door. He shrugged his shoulders as they all entered. He clearly didn’t know what this was about either.

The conservation lab was similar to the osteology lab—a room filled with tables and all manner of equipment, with a large environmentally controlled storage vault for special items. It was outfitted with equipment that allowed them to keep at bay the natural tendency for things to disintegrate. The lab mostly worked with bones, fossils, botanical specimens, objects from nature used in exhibits, and documents, but the staff recently had had the opportunity to work with a mummy and Egyptian artifacts. Now they were working with textiles.

Jin was standing, grinning over a table laid out with clothing from Plymouth Doe. Another table contained rows of evidence bags, presumably trace evidence from the clothing. There was a bra—more substantial than what most women wore now—cotton panties, a slip. All the underclothes had been white, but were now badly stained. The yellow gingham dress was laid out with the apron beside it. Plymouth Doe had been a slim woman. Diane already knew from the length of her long bones that she was five-foot-five.

They walked around the table and stood near Jin and Korey. Diane noticed that the apron was scalloped and had RAY’S DINER written in blue embroidery—she had been a waitress.

As interesting as the apron was, however, it was the sweater that Jin and Korey were focused on. Jin looked from David to Diane to Neva, still grinning. Clearly there was something he expected them to notice right away.

It was a woman’s sweater, a gray hand-knitted piece, stained from being in water near a decaying body all those years. It had a row of silver buttons down the front. Diane’s eyes widened in surprise. David saw it too. He grabbed his hand lens out of his pocket and bent over the sweater.

“I don’t believe it,” he muttered.

“Aren’t those buttons the same as the one you found in the cave?” asked Neva.

“Yes,” said David. “Definitely the same.” He straightened up. “These buttons are rare because they never came into general use. Which means we have a connection between Caver Doe and Plymouth Doe.”

Even though they didn’t know that the cave button was actually associated with Caver Doe, the coincidence was too much to ignore.

“Wow,” said Neva, “If Plymouth Doe was his girlfriend, I apologize for the things I thought about her.” Both David and Jin looked sideways at her. “We were discussing the photograph found with Caver Doe and I made some suggestions about her possible involvement in his death. But if she’s dead too . . .”

“Not all the buttons are attached,” said Diane.

“No, only two,” Jin replied. “The others were found nearby on the seat and there’s the one from the cave.”

“Let me have a look at them first,” said Korey. “I can stabilize the decomposition. I’ve noticed the shanks are rusty. Some are eaten away.”

Diane nodded. “How are you coming with the clothes?”

“Jin’s been doing his thing,” said Korey. He jerked his head toward the table of evidence bags. “When he finishes, I’ll work on the fabric. Do you want it cleaned?”

“No,” said Diane. “Just keep it from falling apart.”

“Sure thing, Dr. F.”

“I haven’t found any blood so far,” said Jin. “I’m not sure I would after all that time in the water. But I thought you’d like to see the buttons. Especially David. Your button database is paying off. Who knew?”

“And all of you scoffed,” said David.

Diane shook her head. “This is just amazing—and unexpected.”

“It surprised the heck out of me,” said Jin.

“Yeah,” said Korey, “we thought he’d gone nuts.”

“Good work, guys.” She looked at her watch. “I need to get back to Plymouth Doe. Neva, why don’t you get to work on Plymouth Doe’s face. See if it’s a match with the snapshot found with Caver Doe.”

“Diane. Been looking for you.” Jonas Briggs, the museum’s archaeologist, and professor emeritus from Bartram University, came strolling into the conservation lab, his face lit up with his usual smile. “The archaeology faunal lab at the university thanks you profusely for helping out with its faunal remains.”

Diane looked at him blankly. “What was it I did for them?”

“Did Dr. Mercer not tell you? You were on vacation, so I guess she forgot.”

He handed her an envelope. Diane tore it open and found a thank-you note from the Archaeology Department head for allowing them to use the museum’s faunal lab to strip some of their remains. She looked up at Jonas.

“Some idiot stole their dermestid colony about three weeks ago. Probably some fraternity prank. They had fresh carcasses and were in immediate need and appealed to us—actually to me. I asked Sylvia Mercer, and she generously agreed to help.”

Diane stood looking at him for a long moment. She and David looked at each other.

“You don’t think . . .” began David.

“It’s entirely possible,” said Diane.

“What?” said Jin.

“Not frat boys?” said Jonas.

“Maybe not,” said Diane.

“But you aren’t going to tell, are you?” said Jonas. “This is part of the business of the museum’s dark side, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Sorry—ongoing case. I suppose it’s too late to work the scene,” mused Diane. “But Jin, go ahead and have a look at the faunal lab sometime today.” He nodded. “Do they have any leads?” she asked Jonas.

“On the theft? No. It’s pretty easy to come and go in the lab. Could have been anyone,” said Briggs.

“I’ll check it out,” said Jin.

“What was that about?” asked Neva when she and Diane were out the door.

“David found a lot of beetles with Jane Doe. She had cuts all over her body, and she was found with other animals in various states of decomposition. Just a hunch, but I’m thinking that maybe the killer wanted to hurry the process of decomposition. One way to do that is to cut the body tissue to allow access to insects. I believe he also thought that putting out extra bugs and other carcasses would increase the rate of decomposition.”

“So maybe Jane Doe hasn’t been dead as long as we first thought,” said Neva.

“That could be the case. I was thinking maybe a month. But now I’m not so sure.”

On the way back to the stairwell they walked through Earth Science. Through the doorway that led to the rock room, Diane saw Dr. Lymon and Mike at the door to the geology lab.

“What is he doing out?” said Neva. She started to go to him when Diane put a hand on her arm.

“Let me handle this,” said Diane. “You start on Plymouth Doe’s face.”

“Is that Dr. Lymon?”

“I’ll catch up to you later,” said Diane.

“Yes, ma’am,” Neva said, though she hesitated for a moment before continuing on to the osteology lab.

Diane passed through the rock room, headed for the geology lab. Several people were looking at the igneous rocks, trying not to look like they were listening to the argument that was clearly going on. Dr. Lymon’s voice was getting progressively higher. Mike was trying to get out of the doorway, but she grabbed his arm.

Diane walked up to the two of them. “Let’s go into the lab. Now.”

“This is none of your damn business.” Dr. Lymon’s face was red with anger.

“You’re making a spectacle in the museum, and that makes it my business. If you don’t want to be escorted out by security, take this to the office.”

Annette Lymon looked at Diane as if she didn’t understand her. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you,” she said after a moment. “No one seemed to know where you were.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Diane saw Shelly Cates, the geology collection manager, in her office putting down the phone receiver. She dashed out and came toward them. Diane could tell by her body language that she was angry. Her face was red under her tanned skin, her body rigid.

Shelly Cates was a fit woman in her early forties. Her hair was up in a tight ponytail. She was the type of person who seemed more comfortable in jeans and a T-shirt, but in the museum she always wore nice suits usually topped by a lab coat. She had come to the profession late. After being a stay-at-home mom, she got an undergraduate degree in geology and took courses in museum management. Her job meant a lot to her.

“She has been pitching a fit in front of visitors in the museum,” said Shelly. “I was just about to call you.”

“Doc,” began Mike. “I’m sorry.”

“Mike, why don’t you and Shelly go talk in her office. I’m going to speak with Dr. Lymon.”

Mike hesitated a moment. So did Shelly.

“Now,” said Diane.

The two of them turned and went into Shelly’s office. Mike moved slowly and stiffly, favoring one side.

“Dr. Lymon, let’s go sit down, and you tell me what’s going on.”

Diane managed to maneuver Annette Lymon so she could shut the door to the geology lab, cutting off the view and the sound of the unfolding drama from the public. She held the office door open for Dr. Lymon, who reluctantly walked through and sat down behind the desk, as if she intended never to get up again.

“Now what’s this about?” Diane pulled up a chair and sat opposite her.

“How dare you hire him! I told you he is incompetent, and you gave him my job!”

“Dr. Lymon, who I hire isn’t your concern. You wrote me several letters telling me of your dissatisfaction and intention to quit. You told me you are severing ties with the museum. I had a position to fill. Mike is qualified. As far as you are concerned, that’s the end of the matter. Why were you looking for me?”

“To talk to you about giving him my job.”

“It’s not your job. And you can never come into the museum and make a scene. The visitors in the museum don’t need to be subjected to whatever problem you have with my hiring practices. Your letter said you are resigning the curatorship.” Diane was exasperated, but tried not to show it. She hoped she sounded matter-of-fact, but firm.

Dr. Lymon had a stubborn set to her face. Her chin was thrust out and her mouth was turned down into a frown. “That’s not the point. You didn’t have to hire him. Not him. He came on to me; did you know that?”

Diane was starting to get angry. She was glad she had an independent witness to the episode. “No, he did not come on to you. You came on to him. It was inappropriate, and if you weren’t leaving I would fire you. I have no tolerance for that kind of thing here.”

Angry tears sprang up in her eyes. “He’s lying. He’s just trying to get my job. He’s just trying to make himself look like he’s the wronged party.”

“Mike never told me about it. You were observed by another curator.”

Annette Lymon’s eyes grew wide. She was silent for a long moment. The tears spilled down onto her cheeks, leaving black mascara tracks. She grabbed a Kleenex from her purse and wiped her eyes.

“He rejected me. Do you know what that feels like? Who was he to reject me after all these years? After everything I’ve done for him. I put him through school.”

“He was your student. He doesn’t owe you sex, Dr. Lymon.”

“Doesn’t owe me? We were married for sixteen years.”

“What? Who are you talking about? Mike’s not your ex-husband.”

Dr. Lymon looked puzzled for a moment. “Not Mike. Ransford. I did everything for that son of a bitch, and he leaves me for that young slut.”

Diane suddenly felt way out of her depth. She hadn’t a clue how to treat the woman.

“I understand that your husband betrayed you terribly. But that wasn’t Mike’s fault; nor was it the museum’s. Is there anyone I can call for you? A friend or family member?”

Dr. Lymon shook her head.

“Why don’t you stay here and collect yourself before you go home.”

“Why did you give him this job?”

“I need a curator, and he had an excellent proposal with several good ideas for the museum.”

“I’ll bet that was the reason. I know about you and him.” Her eyes glittered as she stared at Diane.