she could to help him out.
As she repeated the drive up the Saw Mill River Parkway two days later, Charlotte found herself pondering the face-lift question once again. The reason she had even considered a face-lift in the first place was that she was worried that she wouldn’t get work if she looked too old. But if her meeting with her agent was any indicator, she needn’t have worried. The offers were pouring in: movie scripts, television specials, regional theater. She seemed to be in greater demand than ever before. It wasn’t youth that was the issue anyway, she decided. It was vitality. Women sought out that taut look because they wanted to convey the impression of energy, of being able to compete. It wasn’t the fact that their faces had aged that was the issue, but that they looked weary and careworn. And just as being told that she’s beautiful can make a woman feel beautiful, altering a woman’s appearance to make her look younger could no doubt help her feel more energetic. But not having enough energy had never been a problem for Charlotte. It was her energy that had propelled her to the top of her profession, and had kept her there for nearly fifty years. And it was her energy that would keep her going for another ten—would it be importunate of her to ask for another fifteen?—despite the crepy folds around her eyes, despite the fatty deposits under her chin, despite the scars that life had inflicted on her skin and on her psyche. As Francis Bacon had said: “There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.”
She still hadn’t made up her mind. The jury on the “to lift or not to lift” question was still out. But the scales were no longer as balanced as they were when she’d first reconsidered the question.
4
Charlotte arrived at the Zion Hill police station at eleven-thirty, ready for Jerry to put her to work (to say nothing of being ready for a good meal). She found Jerry on the verge of calling Leonore Herman, the state forensic anthropologist, whose offices were located in Albany. Jerry had asked Lister to send her the skull of the second victim via Emergency Medical Services after he had finished making his cast. Lister was an experienced student of the configuration of skulls, but he wasn’t a forensic anthropologist, and Jerry wanted to confirm Lister’s conclusions about the cosmetic surgery before going any further with that aspect of the investigation. In his telephone conversation with Dr. Herman, Jerry had also suggested that she take another look at the skull of the first victim, which was stored with the remains of other unidentified murder victims at the offices of the state medical examiner.
“She should have had enough time to look at them by now,” Jerry had said impatiently shortly after Charlotte’s arrival. The fact that he was willing to postpone a meal to call someone who probably would have called him as soon as she had finished her report was a sign that the case had gotten hold of Jerry. After two years of stolen bicycles and speeding tickets, he was a man with a mission.
He got through to Dr. Herman right away, and Charlotte could tell from the expression on his face, as well as from the general drift of his side of the conversation, which was liberally sprinkled with words like “rhinoplasty,” that he’d struck pay dirt.
“Lister was right,” he said after hanging up. “Both victims had had plastic surgery. Leonore had noticed the abrasions on the cheekbones of the first skull, just as Lister had, but she also wrote them off to a natural anomaly. But the evidence of plastic surgery on the second skull is clear-cut.”
“So,” said Charlotte. “Cheek implants for the first victim …”
“And a chin implant, posterior mandible implants, cheek implants, and brow implants for the second victim. Leonore said that one, if not both, had probably had nose jobs too, given the extensive nature of the other surgery, but without
As she repeated the drive up the Saw Mill River Parkway two days later, Charlotte found herself pondering the face-lift question once again. The reason she had even considered a face-lift in the first place was that she was worried that she wouldn’t get work if she looked too old. But if her meeting with her agent was any indicator, she needn’t have worried. The offers were pouring in: movie scripts, television specials, regional theater. She seemed to be in greater demand than ever before. It wasn’t youth that was the issue anyway, she decided. It was vitality. Women sought out that taut look because they wanted to convey the impression of energy, of being able to compete. It wasn’t the fact that their faces had aged that was the issue, but that they looked weary and careworn. And just as being told that she’s beautiful can make a woman feel beautiful, altering a woman’s appearance to make her look younger could no doubt help her feel more energetic. But not having enough energy had never been a problem for Charlotte. It was her energy that had propelled her to the top of her profession, and had kept her there for nearly fifty years. And it was her energy that would keep her going for another ten—would it be importunate of her to ask for another fifteen?—despite the crepy folds around her eyes, despite the fatty deposits under her chin, despite the scars that life had inflicted on her skin and on her psyche. As Francis Bacon had said: “There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.”
She still hadn’t made up her mind. The jury on the “to lift or not to lift” question was still out. But the scales were no longer as balanced as they were when she’d first reconsidered the question.
4
Charlotte arrived at the Zion Hill police station at eleven-thirty, ready for Jerry to put her to work (to say nothing of being ready for a good meal). She found Jerry on the verge of calling Leonore Herman, the state forensic anthropologist, whose offices were located in Albany. Jerry had asked Lister to send her the skull of the second victim via Emergency Medical Services after he had finished making his cast. Lister was an experienced student of the configuration of skulls, but he wasn’t a forensic anthropologist, and Jerry wanted to confirm Lister’s conclusions about the cosmetic surgery before going any further with that aspect of the investigation. In his telephone conversation with Dr. Herman, Jerry had also suggested that she take another look at the skull of the first victim, which was stored with the remains of other unidentified murder victims at the offices of the state medical examiner.
“She should have had enough time to look at them by now,” Jerry had said impatiently shortly after Charlotte’s arrival. The fact that he was willing to postpone a meal to call someone who probably would have called him as soon as she had finished her report was a sign that the case had gotten hold of Jerry. After two years of stolen bicycles and speeding tickets, he was a man with a mission.
He got through to Dr. Herman right away, and Charlotte could tell from the expression on his face, as well as from the general drift of his side of the conversation, which was liberally sprinkled with words like “rhinoplasty,” that he’d struck pay dirt.
“Lister was right,” he said after hanging up. “Both victims had had plastic surgery. Leonore had noticed the abrasions on the cheekbones of the first skull, just as Lister had, but she also wrote them off to a natural anomaly. But the evidence of plastic surgery on the second skull is clear-cut.”
“So,” said Charlotte. “Cheek implants for the first victim …”
“And a chin implant, posterior mandible implants, cheek implants, and brow implants for the second victim. Leonore said that one, if not both, had probably had nose jobs too, given the extensive nature of the other surgery, but without
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