BLACK NOTICE. PATRICIA CORNWELL

“The Container Man’s got a busted jaw,” Ruffin said. “That right there’s enough to I.D. him, isn’t it, Dr. Scar-

“If we can ever get hold of his old films,” I replied.

“That’s always the big if,” Ruffin said, and he was doing all he could to distract me because he knew he was in trouble.

I scanned the radio-opaque shadows and shapes of sinus and bone and saw no other fractures, no deformities or oddities. However, when I cleaned off the teeth, there was an accessory cusp of the Carabelli. All molars have four cusps, or protrusions. This one had had five.

“What’s a Carabelli?” Marino wanted to know.

“Some person. I don’t know who.” I pointed out the tooth in question. “Upper maxilla. Lingual and mesial or towards the tongue and forward.”

“I guess that’s good,” Marino said. “Not that I have a friggin’ clue what you just said.”

“An unusual feature,” I said. “Not to mention his sinus configuration, fractured jaw. We got enough to I.D. him about half a dozen times if we find something premortem for comparison.”

“We say that all the time, Doc,” Marino reminded me. “Hell, you’ve had people in here with glass eyes, artificial legs, plates in their heads, signet rings, braces on their teeth, you name it, and we still never figure out who the hell they are because they’re never reported missing. Or maybe they were and the case got lost in space. Or else eve couldn’t find a single damn X ray or medical record.”

“Dental restorations here and here,” I said, pointing to several metal fillings that showed up brilliant white on the opaque shapes of two molars. “Looks like he had pretty good dental care. Fingernails neatly trimmed. Let’s get him on the table. We need to move along. He’s only getting worse.”

12

Eyes bulged froglike, and the scalp and beard were sloughing off with the outer layer of darkening skin. His head lolled and he leaked what little fluid was left in him as I grabbed him around the knees and Ruffin got him under the arms. We struggled to lift him onto the portable table as Marino steadied the gurney.

“The whole point of these new tables,” I gasped, “is so we don’t have to do this!”

Not all removal services and funeral homes had caught on yet. They still clattered in with their stretchers and transferred the body to whatever old gurney they found instead of one of the new autopsy tables that we could roll right up to the sink. So far, my efforts to save our backs hadn’t amounted to much.

“Yo, Chuckie-boy;” Marino said. “I hear you want to sign on with us.”

“Who says?” Ruffin was clearly startled and instantly on the defensive.

The body thudded on stainless steel.

“That’s the word on the street,” Marino said.

Ruffin didn’t reply as he hosed off the gurney. He mopped it dry with a towel, then covered it and a countertop with clean sheets while I took photographs.

“Well, let me just tell you,” Marino said, “it ain’t all it’s cut out to be.”

“Chuck,” I said. “We need some more Polaroid film.”

“Coming up.”

“Reality’s always a little different,” Marino went on in his condescending tone. “It’s driving around all night with nothing going on, bored out of your friggin’ mind. It’s being spat at, cussed, unappreciated, driving piece-of-shit cars while little assholes play politics and kiss ass and get nice offices and play golf with the brass.”

Air blew, water drummed and flowed. I sketched the metal sutures and accessory cusp and wished the heaviness inside me would lift. Despite all I knew about how the body worked, I didn’t understand-not really-how grief could begin in the brain and spread through the body like a systemic infection, eroding and throbbing, inflaming and numbing, and ultimately destroying careers and families, or in some sad cases, a person’s physical life.

“Nice threads,” Ruffin was saying. “Ar-man-i. Never seen it up close before.”

“His crocodile shoes and belt alone probably cost a thousand dollars,” I said.

“No shit?” Marino commented. “That’s probably what killed him. His wife buys it for his birthday, he finds out what it cost and has a heart attack. You care if I light up in here, Doc?”

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