labs.
Dr. Mayna watched with an expression that seemed caught between horror and laughter. Then she turned back to me, and the wide-eyed, childlike curiosity returned to her eyes. “So what did he do? Who killed him? What happened?”
It took longer than it should have to answer her questions, and we wound up grabbing two cushioned stools alongside the windows in order to continue the interrogation. She was intrigued by anything and everything: the sights, smells, tastes, and especially the emotional mistrust in the relationship between Panhsj and Khasek. After the first few answers, she pulled a notepad out of her lab-coat pocket and began jotting down my answers in some version of shorthand. It took an hour before she was finally convinced to move on, saving the rest for later. Surprisingly, Dr. Kamal and Jessie still had not returned.
“So, Dr. Mayna, what do you know about Jill?” I asked, rising from my seat and stretching my stiff knee. “I’d like to move on. This is taking quite a bit longer than I anticipated. I’m happy to help, but still have a killer on the loose and less than four days to find her.”
The professor nodded and strode back between the skeletons, her low heels giving a subtle click with each step. “Well, there’s not much to say about Jill. She’s from the same period as Jack. They were excavated at the same time and from the same worksite. Hence the connection with the names. Aside from that, we can tell she was young, but nothing else seems out of the ordinary. Sickness, maybe?” she said, speculating.
“Maybe. Not sure I can help with her. Panhsj—or Jack as you know him—was murdered. It seems the bones of the wound were able to keep the memory.”
“Yes, it would seem so,” Dr. Mayna replied, her skepticism all but gone, but I sensed an undertone of shock and disbelief, as though her mind and emotions were in conflict. “If you’re right, and you already tried the corpses in your murders, the bones might still hold some memory of the horrible killings, but I doubt it. Fire changes the chemical composition of things.”
“Yeah, you said that before,” I mumbled, scanning the floor in despair. “It explains why I got nothing from the victims’ charred skin and the bone fragmen—wait.” I glanced at the professor and held up a hand, waving it as though emphasizing each syllable I spoke. “We got to the last four victims before they were completely burnt. What if their skin doesn’t hold a clue, but their bones still do? Could that be possible?”
Dr. Mayna thought for a moment and frowned. “It’s possible, Detective Drummond—”
“Alex, please.”
“Fine,” she replied, acknowledging the interruption with but a word. “It’s possible, Alex, but from the looks of those photos, the bones aren’t the same anymore.”
“But they’re still bones,” I said, struggling to hold on to some semblance of hope.
“Yes, they are,” she said with a nod, “and it’s possible. You’re dabbling with something few people believe and even fewer have experience with. However, it isn’t likely.”
My chin fell to my chest and I stared at Jill’s skeleton. Only the top layer of dirt had been removed. They’d excavated the entire block of ground surrounding her body, leaving the bottom half of the bones submerged in hardened dirt and freezing her position in death better than any picture could have. Something nagged at me, tugging at the back of my mind and making the back of my head tickle. I scratched it and continued to assess the skeleton. It—she didn’t look content. It may have been the low-hanging jaw or the partially bent legs, but each thing I analyzed I dismissed a moment later. Then my focus landed on her hand and the nagging itch turned to pain as something jerked a clump of hair from the back of my head. I jumped and spun around, expecting Jessie to be up to another practical joke, but instead of a person, a small clump of hair drifted to the
Dr. Mayna watched with an expression that seemed caught between horror and laughter. Then she turned back to me, and the wide-eyed, childlike curiosity returned to her eyes. “So what did he do? Who killed him? What happened?”
It took longer than it should have to answer her questions, and we wound up grabbing two cushioned stools alongside the windows in order to continue the interrogation. She was intrigued by anything and everything: the sights, smells, tastes, and especially the emotional mistrust in the relationship between Panhsj and Khasek. After the first few answers, she pulled a notepad out of her lab-coat pocket and began jotting down my answers in some version of shorthand. It took an hour before she was finally convinced to move on, saving the rest for later. Surprisingly, Dr. Kamal and Jessie still had not returned.
“So, Dr. Mayna, what do you know about Jill?” I asked, rising from my seat and stretching my stiff knee. “I’d like to move on. This is taking quite a bit longer than I anticipated. I’m happy to help, but still have a killer on the loose and less than four days to find her.”
The professor nodded and strode back between the skeletons, her low heels giving a subtle click with each step. “Well, there’s not much to say about Jill. She’s from the same period as Jack. They were excavated at the same time and from the same worksite. Hence the connection with the names. Aside from that, we can tell she was young, but nothing else seems out of the ordinary. Sickness, maybe?” she said, speculating.
“Maybe. Not sure I can help with her. Panhsj—or Jack as you know him—was murdered. It seems the bones of the wound were able to keep the memory.”
“Yes, it would seem so,” Dr. Mayna replied, her skepticism all but gone, but I sensed an undertone of shock and disbelief, as though her mind and emotions were in conflict. “If you’re right, and you already tried the corpses in your murders, the bones might still hold some memory of the horrible killings, but I doubt it. Fire changes the chemical composition of things.”
“Yeah, you said that before,” I mumbled, scanning the floor in despair. “It explains why I got nothing from the victims’ charred skin and the bone fragmen—wait.” I glanced at the professor and held up a hand, waving it as though emphasizing each syllable I spoke. “We got to the last four victims before they were completely burnt. What if their skin doesn’t hold a clue, but their bones still do? Could that be possible?”
Dr. Mayna thought for a moment and frowned. “It’s possible, Detective Drummond—”
“Alex, please.”
“Fine,” she replied, acknowledging the interruption with but a word. “It’s possible, Alex, but from the looks of those photos, the bones aren’t the same anymore.”
“But they’re still bones,” I said, struggling to hold on to some semblance of hope.
“Yes, they are,” she said with a nod, “and it’s possible. You’re dabbling with something few people believe and even fewer have experience with. However, it isn’t likely.”
My chin fell to my chest and I stared at Jill’s skeleton. Only the top layer of dirt had been removed. They’d excavated the entire block of ground surrounding her body, leaving the bottom half of the bones submerged in hardened dirt and freezing her position in death better than any picture could have. Something nagged at me, tugging at the back of my mind and making the back of my head tickle. I scratched it and continued to assess the skeleton. It—she didn’t look content. It may have been the low-hanging jaw or the partially bent legs, but each thing I analyzed I dismissed a moment later. Then my focus landed on her hand and the nagging itch turned to pain as something jerked a clump of hair from the back of my head. I jumped and spun around, expecting Jessie to be up to another practical joke, but instead of a person, a small clump of hair drifted to the
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