have shown on her face; suddenly one of the young policemen nudged his fellow officer, then pulled him back. Everyone else did the same.
Until the other night they'd never had to put into practice the lessons they'd been taught. And now, in all the excitement, they'd forgotten it all.
"I've had extra patrol on duty," Rachel's father said, coming up behind her.
"Anybody see anything suspicious?"
"Been pretty quiet. Nothing that stood out." He struggled to control a cough, reached inside his jacket, pulled out a nonfilter cigarette, and lit it. She managed to keep her mouth shut. Normally he didn't smoke in front of her, but he probably figured she'd find a fit of coughing even more disturbing.
She took a large number of digital photos, then almost as many more with her thirty-five-millimeter camera.
Dan showed up, skidding to a stop beside her. "Got here as fast as I could," he said breathlessly. He wore jeans, tennis shoes, and a brown jacket.
She gave him a couple of minutes to meet their new friend; then he was off to the van to return with a white sheet and plastic body bag. He spread the sheet on the ground, butting it up against the stone wall. They both snapped on latex gloves.
"I'll get the head," Rachel said.
She put her hands under the shoulders. Dan grabbed the ankles. They lifted.
"Whoops."
She looked up to see Dan holding a shoe in his hand. It took her a moment to realize that the shoe had a mummified foot in it, with a jagged piece of brown bone sticking out.
They placed the body on the sheet. Dan made a feeble attempt to reattach the foot; the shoe and bone fell over. He tried again. Same thing, so he gave up.
Behind them someone let out a loud snort. That was all it took for everyone to burst into laughter.
Glancing up at Rachel, Dan finally placed the shoe and foot next to the body. "Sorry," he muttered.
They wrapped the body in the sheet so there would be no chance of losing anything between the crime scene and lab. The body was then placed inside the plastic body bag, zipped, and sealed with a chain-of-custody tag.
Rachel wanted to get out of there before the local paper got wind of the discovery. The Tuonela Press dealt mainly with church bazaars, high school sports, and the occasional spotting of a riverboat passing through town on the Wisconsin River, but editor Bonnie Stark had been hoping for a big-break story for the last twenty years. With Chelsea's death she'd gotten it, and this discovery would further excite her.
Rachel and Dan placed the cadaver on a gurney, then slid the collapsed gurney into the back of the van and slammed shut the double doors.
"Stay here and finish collecting the evidence," she told Dan.
"How're you gonna get him out?"
"I'll manage by myself or find somebody to help."
At the coroner's office, Rachel dragged the gurney from the back of the van, locking the legs in place. If the body hadn't been so dehydrated, she wouldn't have been able to manage by herself, but it didn't weigh much more than a small child.
She wheeled the gurney through the street-level doors, down a dark hallway to the elevator. In the basement she went directly to the autopsy suite, where she suited up and began the exam.
After unzipping the body bag, she parked the gurney beside the exam table, locked the wheels, then used the edges of the sheet to drag the body onto the stainless-steel table.
She opened the sheet with care, then got out her digital camera and began taking full shots and close-ups, focusing on the details of the clothing. Vintage, maybe early twentieth century.
The body had been dressed in a topcoat. Under that were a waistcoat and a white cotton shirt tucked into black wool trousers. Over the shirt, a pair of suspenders and a white silk scarf with a small design or insignia on it.
She took a Q-tip and wiped the surface of the shoe Dan had dropped. Patent leather. Didn't see that much anymore.
The pockets were empty.
She cut the pants away and unbuttoned the wool
Until the other night they'd never had to put into practice the lessons they'd been taught. And now, in all the excitement, they'd forgotten it all.
"I've had extra patrol on duty," Rachel's father said, coming up behind her.
"Anybody see anything suspicious?"
"Been pretty quiet. Nothing that stood out." He struggled to control a cough, reached inside his jacket, pulled out a nonfilter cigarette, and lit it. She managed to keep her mouth shut. Normally he didn't smoke in front of her, but he probably figured she'd find a fit of coughing even more disturbing.
She took a large number of digital photos, then almost as many more with her thirty-five-millimeter camera.
Dan showed up, skidding to a stop beside her. "Got here as fast as I could," he said breathlessly. He wore jeans, tennis shoes, and a brown jacket.
She gave him a couple of minutes to meet their new friend; then he was off to the van to return with a white sheet and plastic body bag. He spread the sheet on the ground, butting it up against the stone wall. They both snapped on latex gloves.
"I'll get the head," Rachel said.
She put her hands under the shoulders. Dan grabbed the ankles. They lifted.
"Whoops."
She looked up to see Dan holding a shoe in his hand. It took her a moment to realize that the shoe had a mummified foot in it, with a jagged piece of brown bone sticking out.
They placed the body on the sheet. Dan made a feeble attempt to reattach the foot; the shoe and bone fell over. He tried again. Same thing, so he gave up.
Behind them someone let out a loud snort. That was all it took for everyone to burst into laughter.
Glancing up at Rachel, Dan finally placed the shoe and foot next to the body. "Sorry," he muttered.
They wrapped the body in the sheet so there would be no chance of losing anything between the crime scene and lab. The body was then placed inside the plastic body bag, zipped, and sealed with a chain-of-custody tag.
Rachel wanted to get out of there before the local paper got wind of the discovery. The Tuonela Press dealt mainly with church bazaars, high school sports, and the occasional spotting of a riverboat passing through town on the Wisconsin River, but editor Bonnie Stark had been hoping for a big-break story for the last twenty years. With Chelsea's death she'd gotten it, and this discovery would further excite her.
Rachel and Dan placed the cadaver on a gurney, then slid the collapsed gurney into the back of the van and slammed shut the double doors.
"Stay here and finish collecting the evidence," she told Dan.
"How're you gonna get him out?"
"I'll manage by myself or find somebody to help."
At the coroner's office, Rachel dragged the gurney from the back of the van, locking the legs in place. If the body hadn't been so dehydrated, she wouldn't have been able to manage by herself, but it didn't weigh much more than a small child.
She wheeled the gurney through the street-level doors, down a dark hallway to the elevator. In the basement she went directly to the autopsy suite, where she suited up and began the exam.
After unzipping the body bag, she parked the gurney beside the exam table, locked the wheels, then used the edges of the sheet to drag the body onto the stainless-steel table.
She opened the sheet with care, then got out her digital camera and began taking full shots and close-ups, focusing on the details of the clothing. Vintage, maybe early twentieth century.
The body had been dressed in a topcoat. Under that were a waistcoat and a white cotton shirt tucked into black wool trousers. Over the shirt, a pair of suspenders and a white silk scarf with a small design or insignia on it.
She took a Q-tip and wiped the surface of the shoe Dan had dropped. Patent leather. Didn't see that much anymore.
The pockets were empty.
She cut the pants away and unbuttoned the wool
Similar Books
