The Secret Friend

63

Boston's Forensic Anthropology Unit was a small suite of windowless, cluttered offices crammed with government-issued steel grey bookcases and matching filing cabinets. Except for an anatomical chart, the white walls behind Carter's desk were bare.

'Sorry to keep you waiting,' Darby said.

'It's fine. It gave the students more time with the bones. It's rare to get a full set of remains.' Carter, short and stocky with grey stubble and thick glasses from some bygone era, grunted as he stood. 'You look exhausted.'

'I haven't slept yet.'

'I don't know if the remains belong to Jennifer Sanders. I'm still waiting for the dental records to be sent over.'

Carter escorted her to the locker room. Darby changed into surgical scrubs and followed him down the hall to the bone room.

She passed the small room containing a sink and stove. The majority of bones sent here for examination more often than not were covered in decomposing soft tissue. In such cases, bones were placed in Crock-Pots and roasting pans holding water and detergent and brought to a gentle boil in order to allow the bones to adjust to the heat. The process, called thermal maceration, sloughed off the remaining tissue.

The remains were assembled on an adjustable steel gurney similar to the ones used in the morgue. As always, the room was very cool.

'The remains are definitely female,' Carter said. He pointed to the pelvic bones. 'We have a raised sacroiliac joint and the wide sciatic notch. Given the blonde hair mat and the characteristics of the skull, our Jane Doe is definitely Caucasian.'

'What about age?'

'The medial ends of the bones aren't completely fused to the shafts, so she's at least twenty-five. The pelvic bones are dense and smooth. Because they don't show any grain, and given the fact that the cranium's intermaxillary sutures aren't fused, she's no older than thirty-five.'

'Cause of death?'

'Look at the hyoid bone.'

Darby checked the horseshoe-shaped bone in the neck. It was broken.

'She was strangled.'

'Yes,' Carter said. 'Now take a look at this.'

He pointed to the scapula. Darby saw a large fracture.

'That was caused by a serious blow,' Carter said. 'Either he kicked her or he hit her with something like a bat or a long piece of wood.'

'What about a brick?'

'That might do it. She's got some other fractures. The poor girl was beaten.' Carter sighed, shook his head. 'The femur is just under forty-eight centimetres. Our Jane Doe is between five-six and five-nine.'

The office phone buzzed.

'Excuse me,' Carter said. He took the call, listened for a moment and without answering hung up. 'Jennifer Sanders' dental records are here. I'll be right back.'

While Carter compared the dental records, Darby stared at the remains, wondering how long they had lain inside the room full of brick and plaster. Was she kept alive for days, beaten and possibly raped before she was strangled? How long had she cried out for help?

Carter pushed his glasses up his long, beak-like nose.

'It's Jennifer Sanders,' he said.