‘But?’ Tom prompted.
‘But… the car caught fire. The body was only identified through personal effects. So it’s possible that a routine autopsy might have overlooked any racial characteristics. And Dexter didn’t have any family, so the funeral was just a formality. Closed casket, no embalming.’
It wouldn’t have been the first time a burnt-out car had been used to disguise a corpse’s identity. But there were still aspects of this that didn’t add up.
Tom obviously thought so too. He looked across at the body lying on the table. ‘From what I’ve seen so far that doesn’t look burned to me. How about you, David?’
‘I wouldn’t say so, no.’ Although the decomposition could have disguised it to an extent, the body didn’t show any evidence of intense heat. Its limbs weren’t drawn up into the boxer’s crouch characteristic of fire deaths, and while they could have been forcibly straightened afterwards, I would still have expected to see some outward signs, even so.
‘Then maybe it was only superficially burned, just enough to scorch the skin,’ Gardner said. ‘The fact is that Willis Dexter’s still missing, and until we’ve got proof that he’s dead that makes him a suspect.’
I spoke without thinking. ‘It doesn’t make sense for it to be Dexter.’
‘Excuse me?’
Go on. Too late to change your mind now. ‘If Dexter wanted everyone to think he was dead, why didn’t he arrange it so the body was cremated instead of buried? Why go to all that trouble and then leave a corpse in the casket that obviously wasn’t his?’
Gardner’s face was stone. ‘He might have thought that wouldn’t matter if it was burned in the car crash. If not for the fingerprints we found in the cabin it wouldn’t have.’
‘But whoever put the needles in the body obviously expected— wanted—it to be exhumed.’
He studied me, as though debating whether to answer or throw me out. ‘I’m aware of that. And in case you’re wondering, it’s also occurred to us that the fingerprint might have been left deliberately. Maybe Dexter did it himself, or maybe he’s buried in another grave at Steeple Hill, and someone’s got his hand in an icebox. But until we know one way or the other, then he’s going to stay a suspect. That all right by you, Dr Hunter?’
I didn’t say anything. I could feel the planes of my face tightening.
‘David’s only trying to help, Dan,’ Tom said, which somehow made it worse.
‘I’m sure he is.’ Gardner’s expression could have meant anything. He stood up to go, then paused, addressing Tom as though I wasn’t there. ‘One more thing. The X-rays of the body from the cabin match Terry Loomis’s dental records. We might not be Scotland Yard, but at least we got an ID on one of the victims.’
He gave Tom a nod as he went to the door.
‘I’ll be in touch.’
The day was nearly over by the time we resumed work. We were badly behind schedule, and it didn’t help that there were just the two of us. After what had happened to Kyle, Tom wasn’t prepared to let Summer help any more.
‘It might be bolting the stable door after the horse has gone, but she’s only a student. I don’t want anything else on my conscience,’ he said. He regarded me solemnly over his glasses. ‘I’ll understand if you want to back out.’
‘What happened to “last chance to work together”?’ I joked.
The attempt to lighten his mood failed. He rubbed at his breastbone with the heel of his hand, but stopped when he realized I was watching. ‘I didn’t know then what I’d be getting you into.’
‘You didn’t get me into anything. I volunteered.’
Tom took off his glasses and began to clean them. He didn’t look at me. ‘Only because I asked you to. Maybe it would be better if I asked Paul or one of the others to lend a hand.’
The depth of my disappointment surprised me. ‘I’m sure Gardner would be happier.’
That at least raised a smile. ‘Dan doesn’t have anything against you personally. He just likes to do things by the book. This is a high profile homicide investigation and as ASAC he’s under pressure to get results. You’re an unknown quantity as far as he’s concerned, that’s all.’
‘I get the feeling he’d like me to stay that way.’
The smile became a chuckle, but it soon faded. ‘Look at it from my viewpoint, David. After what happened to you last year…’
‘Last year was last year,’ I said, more forcefully than I’d intended. ‘Look, I know I’m only here at your invitation, and if you’d rather bring in Paul or someone else to help out, then fine. But I can’t duck and run whenever things get complicated. You said as much yourself. Besides, we’ve found the needles now. What else can happen?’
Tom stared broodingly down at his glasses, still wiping the lenses even though they must have been spotless by now. I stayed silent, knowing he had to decide for himself. Finally, he put the glasses back on.
‘Let’s get back to work.’
But the relief I felt was soon crowded out as my doubts returned. I found myself wondering if it wouldn’t be better for Paul or one of Tom’s other colleagues to step in after all. I hadn’t come here to take part in an investigation, and my presence was clearly causing friction with Gardner. Tom was every bit as stubborn as the TBI agent, especially when it came to who he worked with, but I didn’t want to make things difficult for him.
Even so, I was reluctant to back out now. Whether it was because of what had happened to Kyle, or just that my professional instincts had finally kicked back into life, something in me had changed. For a long time I’d felt as though an essential part of me had been missing, amputated by Grace Strachan’s knife. Now something of the old obsessiveness had begun to stir; the need to get to the truth behind a victim’s fate. I might only be assisting Tom, but I still felt I had a stake in the investigation. I was loath to simply walk away.
Unless I wasn’t given any choice.
While Tom made a start on reconstructing the skeleton that had been confirmed to be Terry Loomis’s in one autopsy suite, I began processing the anonymous body from Willis Dexter’s casket in the other. It had been hosed down, but the remaining soft tissue still needed to be stripped from it. I hadn’t been at it long when Tom poked his head round the door.
‘You might want to take a look at this.’
I followed him down the corridor to the other autopsy suite. He’d arranged the large bones of the arms and legs on the examination table, laying them out in an approximation of their anatomical positions. The other bones would follow one by one, until the entire skeleton had been reassembled; a painstaking but necessary job.
Tom went to where the cleaned skull sat at the top of the table and picked it up.
‘Beautiful, aren’t they? As perfect an example of pink teeth as I’ve ever seen.’
Cleaned of any decomposing soft tissue, the pink hue was unmistakable. Something had caused blood to be forced into the pulp of Terry Loomis’s teeth, either as he’d been killed or shortly afterwards.
The question was what?
‘His head wasn’t tilted back far enough for gravity to have caused it,’ Tom said, voicing my own thoughts. ‘I’d say he’d almost certainly have to have been strangled, except for the amount of blood at the cabin.’
I nodded. Judging from what we’d seen, Terry Loomis had virtually bled out. The only problem was if that had happened, then he shouldn’t also have had pink teeth. And while it was possible that the wounds we’d seen on his body had been inflicted post mortem, if that were the case they wouldn’t have bled nearly so much. So while there was evidence for both strangulation and stabbing as the cause of death, it couldn’t be both. Either one ruled the other out.