The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(80)

“Killed? The planet was killed? Are you…crazy?”

Jamison put a hand on Decker’s arm. “Let me try.”

She turned to Fisher and said very quietly, “They were patients of yours a long time ago. Twenty years. They were killed. Their bodies were burned, so they had to use their dental records to identify them. Records from your office.”

She looked at Fisher hopefully, but all she got back was a blank stare.

A minute went by and no one broke the silence.

Decker was about to say something when Jamison held up a hand.

“Dr. Fisher, I have a tooth problem. Do you remember me? I’m Lucinda Mars. This is my husband, Roy Mars. He has a tooth problem too. Can you help us? We’re your patients. You have our records.”

They waited a long moment. At first it didn’t seem Fisher would answer her.

Fisher said, “Maxillary second premolar.”

“What was that, Dr. Fisher?” said Jamison.

“Maxillary second premolar,” he repeated, shaking his head.

Jamison said, “What about it?”

“Not right.”

“What wasn’t right?”

“The second premolar. Just not right.”

Jamison knelt down next to him. “Whose? Roy’s or Lucinda’s?”

“Just not right. Should’ve said. Not right.” He looked up at Decker. “Who the hell are you?”

“A very grateful man.” Decker rose and said to Jamison, “Can you stay here and see if you can get anything more out of him? I’ll come back and get you.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find a maxillary second premolar.”





CHAPTER

44



A PREMOLAR?” SAID Bogart. “Seriously?”

He and Decker were standing in the musty warehouse where old police records were kept.

“That’s what he said. The maxillary second premolar. Something was not right with it.”

They stared at the shelves full of haphazardly stacked boxes.

Bogart said, “The sergeant I talked to said the records were a little—”

“Unorganized?” finished Decker. “I’d say he was seeing the glass half full.” He took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. “Well, let’s get to it.”

The files were indeed in a shambles. The years were sometimes mixed up and the boxes themselves were not well inventoried. On more than one occasion the filing papers inside were just blank.

Six hours went past without any success.

Decker’s phone rang. It was Jamison and she was not happy.

“I took a cab back to the motel. When you said stay here and see if I could get something more out of him, I didn’t think you meant forever.”

“I’m sorry, Alex, I got distracted.”

“Gee, what a shock!”

“Did he say anything else that might be helpful?”

“Only that something wasn’t right. He just kept repeating that.”

“No clue on whether we’re talking about Roy or Lucinda?”

“No. Then he just fell asleep. I’ve been calling you for the last three hours, by the way.”

“I took my coat off. I heard this call because I had picked up my coat when you phoned.”

“Where are you?”

He told her. “But we’re not having much success.”

“Until now,” called out Bogart. He had lifted a box off the shelf and opened it.

“I gotta go,” said Decker, and he clicked off.

They pulled all the items out of the box and laid them on a table. Decker found it first. He pulled up the X-ray sheets for the two Marses that were labeled with their respective names.

“I Googled ‘premolar’ before I got here,” Decker said. He pulled out his phone and brought up an image of a mouth full of teeth. “These are second premolars.” He pointed at spots on the X-rays. “They help with mastication or chewing. The one on the right is the four and the left is the thirteen, in dentist numbering vernacular.”

“All fascinating,” said Bogart sarcastically. “But what was wrong, according to Fisher? The dental records for the Marses from Fisher’s office matched the dental records taken from the bodies at the crime scene.”

“Alex couldn’t find out. The guy has dementia. But he just blurted out ‘maxillary second premolar’—” He stopped, pulled out his phone, and punched in a number.

“Alex, did Fisher mention any numbers?”

“Numbers?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Okay,” said Decker, obviously disappointed.

“But it was weird, he held up four fingers a couple of times.”

“Four, you’re sure?”

“Yes. And he kept looking at them like they meant something.”

“Thanks.”

“De—”

Decker clicked off and turned to Bogart.

“Okay, it was the right premolar.”

They studied the X-rays.

“I don’t see anything on Lucinda’s X-ray,” said Bogart. “But Roy’s number four has a filling.”

Decker looked at it. “You’re right.”