Concealed in Death (In Death #38)(18)

Together they made a glossy plate of high fashion as they studied the white skeleton on the silver table.

A second skeleton rested on a second table; monitors displayed various individual bones.

Morris fixed microgoggles over his dark, slanted eyes to study the arm bone DeWinter lifted from the table.

“Yes,” he said, “I agree.”

Then his gaze lifted up, met Eve’s. He smiled.

“Dallas. Peabody. Welcome to the Bone Room.”

“Morris. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Garnet and I agreed it would be more useful to consult here. You’ve met, I’m told.”

“Yeah.” Eve stepped in, nodded to DeWinter. “What have you got?”

“I’ve started on the first two found. Remains One and Two. We recorded them, cleaned them, recorded again, and began the examine and analysis. Li and I agree the injuries to the remains were sustained much earlier than TOD. Some months prior, some years. Remains Two’s injury pattern is consistent with a pattern throughout childhood of physical abuse, beginning, we believe, with this broken tibia near the age of two.”

Would the bone snap, Eve wondered, such a young bone? Hers had six more years of growth before Richard Troy snapped it like a thin twig.

“A comparative analysis of the skull sutures and epiphyseal fusion sets Remains One at thirteen years of age, Remains Two the same. I can give you their weight. One between ninety-five and a hundred pounds, two between one-oh-five and one-ten. Both, as stated on site, are female. Li?”

“We’ll draw DNA from the bones and run that. It will take some time. Much less if we’re able to get a facial match, and test blood relatives. We’re also running a variety of tests that should help us determine COD, will give us some data on the health and nutrition of the victims, and may even give us the general area where they grew up.”

“From the bones.”

He smiled again. “I’m a flesh-and-blood man myself, but yes, a great deal of information can be gleaned from bones.”

“Our age, our sex, how we moved, our facial structure, how we ate, and often what we did for a living. It’s in the bones,” DeWinter claimed. “Victim One led a healthier and less traumatic life than Two. Her single injury is most likely the result of a childhood accident. A fall from a bike, a tree limb. It’s cleanly and well healed, and was surely professionally treated. Her teeth are straight and even, and were, again, professionally treated, most likely on a regular and routine basis, while Two’s are crooked, contain four cavities.

“Though it’s only based on best probability, I would say One grew up in a middle-class or above household, while Two lived nearer poverty level, or below.”

“The toes.” Morris gestured. “You see how they’re slightly curled, slightly overlapped?”

“From shoving them into shoes that were too small.”

DeWinter beamed at her. “Exactly! Poverty or neglect, and likely both.”

“This is helpful, but I need faces. I need names. Cause of death.”

“And you’ll have them. Elsie may have something for us. Elsie Kendrick does our facial reconstruction, and will very likely be faster than the DNA extraction.”

“Faster’s what I’m after. Can you tell when they died—from the bones?”

“Yes, within a reasonable span. They’ve been working on determining the age of the wall, the materials, in Berenski’s area.”

Dick Berenski, Eve thought, known as Dickhead for a reason, would get the work done. It also occurred to her that he’d likely been sitting in a pool of drool since he’d gotten a load of DeWinter.

“Give me a range.”

“Given the method and material used to wrap them, the variance in temperature inside the building seasonally, the—”

“Just a range,” Eve repeated.

“There are factors,” DeWinter insisted, just a little on the testy side. “My initial analyses indicate a range of fifteen to twenty years. Berenski’s initial tests indicate twelve to fifteen.”

“That’s good enough. It’s going to be on the low side of yours, the high side of his.”

“We haven’t yet determined—”

“It’s what makes sense. The last tenants vacated fifteen years ago last September, and that opens opportunity. At least some of these vics are going to connect to that last tenant—a shelter for kids—runaways and wards of court. It’s what fits.”

“It does.” Morris nodded. “You’ll find, Garnet, Dallas excels at finding the fit.”

“All well and good, and most certainly possible. But TOD is yet to be verified by the science.”

“You go ahead and verify,” Eve invited. “And if it’s not right about fifteen years, let me know. Where’s the reconstructionist?”

“I’ll take you. I’m having more tables brought in,” DeWinter continued as she started out. “I feel it will be helpful to have them all in one space as we continue the work.”

She turned into the music. “Elsie! How can you think with this so loud?”

“It helps me think. Mute music.” Elsie levered herself out of a chair, set the sketchbook and pencil she held aside. She wore her blue-streaked blond hair in dozens of thin braids that ended in tiny beads. She looked about sixteen in an ankle-skimming dress swirling with color, if you overlooked the fact that she was hugely pregnant.