Monday Mourning

”

Bergeron stick-walked to a drawer, withdrew a penlight, picked up the Dr. Energy skull, and peered at the dentition.

“Very poor hygiene. You pulled a molar for sampling?”

I nodded.

“I assume you’d first requested X-rays.”

I unclipped a brown envelope from the LSJML-38426 case file, and slid ten small films onto the light box. Bergeron studied them, the dandelion hair electrified by the fluorescence.

“Besides extensive decay, there’s little of note. A slightly rotated upper right canine.” He tapped one X-ray with a bony finger.

“Age estimate?” I asked.

“Sixteen, maybe as old as eighteen.”

“That was my thought.”

Bergeron had shifted to LSJML-38428.

“That one was buried wrapped in a leather shroud.”

“Was this body autopsied?”

“What do you mean?” His question threw me.

“These cuts on her temporal bone. Could they have been made during retraction of the scalp?”

“I hadn’t considered that.”

Carrying the skull to the dissecting scope, I viewed the marks under low, then higher-power magnification.

“Perhaps these are old biological specimens or teaching skeletons. Perhaps someone kept them as curiosities, later lost interest, or decided possession was risky.”

I had considered that. It was not an uncommon scenario.

“There are no drilled holes, no wire fragments, no signs of chemical treatment or mechanical modification. The bones were not assembled for display purposes.”

Magnified, the temporal marks looked like broad V-shaped valleys.

“These marks weren’t made by a scalpel. They’re too wide in cross section. Also, the alignment is more random than I’d expect as a result of an autopsy. I think they’re postmortem artifacts.”

An ill-formed thought tapped gently on a mental shoulder.

Why the V-shape? That’s not typical of abrasion damage.

“This one had considerably fewer dental problems.”

I looked up. Bergeron was at the second worktable, examining the jaw fragments belonging to LSJML-38427.

“The apicals are in the file.” I pointed at a yellow folder beside the bones.

Bergeron spread the dental X-rays on the light box.

“Could be a bit younger, I’d say fifteen to seventeen.”

“Do you see anything at all distinctive?”

Bergeron shook his head. The frizz wobbled.