Concealed in Death (In Death #38)(3)

“We have to check.”

She stepped out again, looked at him. “I’m going to have to shut you down, until further notice.”

“So I assumed.”

“Peabody will take your statements and your contact information, then you’ll be free to leave.”

“And you?” Roarke asked.

She shrugged out of her coat. “I’m going to get to work.”

Back between the walls, Eve carefully recorded the wrapped bodies from all angles.

“The skeletal remains of two victims, both individually wrapped in what appears to be heavy-grade plastic. We’ve got holes in the plastic. Looks like vermin chewed through. Increased the air—heat and cold to the bodies,” she said half to herself. “And that probably accelerated decomp. No data, at this time, on when this secondary wall was constructed. It’s impossible, from an on-site eval, to determine TOD.”

Leaving the plastic in place for now, she ran a scan to determine height. “Centimeters, crap.” She scowled at the readout. “Convert that to American—to feet.” Her frown stayed in place as she studied the new readouts.

“Victim Two—top—is judged to be approximately five feet in height. Victim One—bottom—four feet, eleven inches.”

“Children,” Roarke said from behind her. “They were children.”

He hadn’t stepped through the opening, but stood just in it.

“I’ll need the forensic expert to determine age.” Then she shook her head. He wasn’t just a witness, wasn’t even just her husband. He’d worked with her, side by side, on too many cases to count. “Yeah, probably. But I can’t confirm that. Go ahead and give Peabody your statement.”

“She’s taking Nina’s.” He glanced back to where the stalwart and sympathetic Peabody dealt with the shaken architect. “It’ll be a bit longer. I could help you.”

“Not a good idea, not just yet.” Carefully, she began to peel back the plastic on Victim Two. “I don’t see any holes in the skull—so no obvious evidence of head trauma. No visible damage to the neck, or nicks, breaks in the torso area.” She fit on microgoggles. “There’s a crack in the left arm, above the elbow. Maybe from an injury. This finger bone looks crooked, but what do I know. Looks crooked though. I can’t see any damage or injury to determine COD, at this time. Identification from skeletal remains must be attempted by ME and forensics. No clothing, no shoes, no jewelry or personal effects.”

Sitting back on her heels, she glanced up at Roarke again. “I only know the bare bones, but generally the jawline in a male is more square—and this looks more rounded to my eye. Plus the pelvis area is usually larger in males. It’s just a guess—and needs verification—but these look to be female remains to me.”

“Girls.”

“Just a guess, and I don’t even have that on TOD or COD. We may be able to estimate when this wall was built, because the probability’s high it was put up to conceal the bodies. Between that and the forensics, we’ll get approximate TOD.”

She pushed up. “I’ll need forensics to help determine IDs. Once we know who they are, we can start working on how they got here.”

With little more she could do, she stepped out beside him.

“They’re close to the same height,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. Possible: Same type of female vic—close in age, maybe, in size, maybe race. Maybe they were killed together, maybe they weren’t. I can’t see any signs of trauma, but further testing may pull that out. Hold on.”

She walked over to where Peabody finished up with Nina.

“I’m sorry I’m not more help. This is so upsetting. I’ve never seen . . .” Nina glanced over to the open wall, away again. “I didn’t even see clearly really, but . . .”

“Did you examine the walls, the floors,” Eve began, “when you got the job?”

“We did several walk-throughs, of course. Measurements. Roarke’s directive was to gut the building, and to design spaces within the shell. We have all the blueprints and specs—architectural, engineering, mechanical. The bones—” She broke off, paled. “That is to say the shell, the structure is very sound, but the interior isn’t. It contains a lot of cheap material, a lot of poor design, quick fixes that were done over several decades, all leading to a number of years of neglect.”

“How many years of neglect?”

“Our research indicates the building hasn’t been used, officially, for about fifteen years. I did research some of its history, just to give me some background for the new design.”

“Send me what you’ve got. You’re free to go now. Do you have transportation?”

“I can get a cab. I’m fine. I’m not usually so . . . delicate. Can I speak with Roarke a moment before I leave?”

“Sure.” Eve shifted her attention to Peabody. “I think they’re kids.”

“Aw, shit, Dallas.”

“Not a hundred percent, but that’s my initial take. I need you to take Roarke’s statement, it’s just less sticky that way. I’ll take the job boss.” She looked over as the first of the sweepers came in the big iron door. “In a minute.”