"I imagine it was the description of the bodies that bothered Reverend Jefferson," said Diane. "He's old enough to remember his parents and grandparents telling about spectacle lynching. Those images must have been raised in his mind when he heard about the condition of the bodies."

"Spectacle lynching?" asked Jin, returning from his office with his thumb up, indicating his success with the call to California. "Sounds like an oxymoron. Weren't illegal hangings done in secret?"

"Lynchings were not only hangings," said Diane. "Any death by a mob is called a lynching. Spectacle lynchings were just that-they were spectacles. They would be announced on the radio and in the newspa per and lasted all day. The mob often tortured the victim, castrating him, cutting off his fingers and toes, burning him with hot pokers, dragging him behind a car or wagon-then they would hang him."

The description of spectacle lynchings was not news to David. He was familiar with all manner of human rights violations, but the sheriff's and Jin's jaws dropped.

"Sometimes the mob would get themselves in such a frenzy," added David, "they would take out after any black they saw on the street, or they might break into the homes of black people and drag them away."

"No one tried to put a stop to it?" asked Jin.

David nodded. "Many tried. In several instances, white employers tried to protect their black employ ees, but it was at their own peril."

David paused, leaned against the table, crossed his arms, and gave them a soft smile. "One lynching pro duced an oft-repeated movie line. A man named d.i.c.k Hinson told about a mob that gathered outside his livery stable, where his father had hidden several blacks. When the mob leader told Hinson they were coming in, through him if necessary, Hinson took out his gun. The leader laughed and told him that he couldn't shoot all of them. Hinson said sure enough he couldn't-just the first man who came through the door."

"And?" asked Jin.

"No one wanted to be shot. No one came through the door."

"How long has it been since this kind of thing happened?"

"The 1920s and '30s were the height of it. The spec tacle aspect began to die out in the midforties."

The sheriff shook his head back and forth. "I guess I'll go see Elwood and try to rea.s.sure him." He sighed and stared at the maggots. "I don't want to rush any thing, Dr. Fallon, but when do you think you might have me something on the skeletons?"

"I'm starting on them today. They're a priority. I'll work as quickly as I can."

"Interesting stuff about the rope. It'll be more inter esting if it actually leads us to the killer. I'd appreciate a call when you find out anything I can use." He put on his hat and headed for the exit.

Diane watched him go past the lab receptionist and into the special elevator they had installed for the crime lab.

"I don't think we convinced him about the time of death," said David.

"Maybe," Diane said.

"He's got it bad for Dr. Webber," said Jin.

"Apparently. What arrangements did you make about the DNA, Jin?"

"The California folks are going to send their proto col to the GBI lab sometime today. I'll take the shed hair over tomorrow. Good thing I wore this shirt, huh, boss?" Jin grinned, showing white, even-edged oc cluded teeth.

"Yes, it is. Much better than the one that says CRIM CRIM INALISTS DO IT EVERYWHERE. I'll be in the osteo lab." INALISTS DO IT EVERYWHERE. I'll be in the osteo lab."

The first thing noticeable about her bone lab was the number of tables-eight large shiny tables lined up in two rows of four, s.p.a.ced with plenty of room around each. Diane liked s.p.a.ce to work. One of the most frustrating things about working in the field was cramped s.p.a.ce in inaccessible locations. Here she had room to spread out. She had countertops lining the walls. She had cabinet s.p.a.ce to spare; she had sinks. It was a good room.

The cabinets held sliding and spreading her measuring calipers, bone instruments- board, stature charts, reference books, pencils, forms. On the counter s.p.a.ce she had a series of microscopes. A metal frame work for mounting cameras hung from the ceiling above the tables. Standing mutely in the corner were Fred and Ethel, the male and female lab skeletons.

Her workroom had the essentials of a well-stocked anthropology lab. Much of her a.n.a.lysis with bones was manual labor-concentrated scrutiny, measuring and recording observations. It was a room she could work in even if the electricity went off, as often happened during the frequent springtime and summer thunder storms.

Despite her fondness for lowtech, Diane had some dazzling equipment in the vault, the secure, environ mentally controlled room where she stored skeletal remains. In it she also kept her computer and forensic software, and the 3-D facial reconstruction equipment consisting of a laser scanner for scanning skulls and another dedicated computer with software for recon structing a face from a skull.

She hadn't invited the sheriff and Garnett to see the vault. Technically, it was part of the museum, and she didn't want Garnett to think he had free reign in this lab.

Blue Doe's skeleton was resting in a transparent plastic storage box on the table closest to the vault. The rope Diane had removed from Blue Doe at the autopsy sat in a separate box beside the remains. An other box containing the corresponding rope from the trees sat on top of it. A set. Bones and rope. Victim and weapon. Red and Green Doe were on separate tables, paired with their ropes.

Diane started with Blue by laying out her bones in anatomical position on the shiny metal table. This ini tial process Diane found relaxing. It was a chance to get an overview of the skeleton-how much was there, its basic condition, anything outstanding.

She rested the skull on a metal donut ring at the head of the table. She took the broken hyoid bone pieces from a small separate sack and lay them just below the skull. The hyoid is the only bone in the body that isn't connected to another bone. In the body it anchors the muscles that are used in speech. It also supports the tongue and, like this one, is nearly always broken during strangulation.

She set the vertebrae in position-atlas, which holds the world, axis which rotates that world, and the spinal column (cervical, thoracic, lumbar, sacrum, coccyx) vertebra by vertebra. Followed by ribs, shoulders, pel vis, long bones, fingers and toes.

Blue had strong white bones. The internal frame work of her body was quite beautiful now that it was cleansed of rotting flesh.

Diane began her detailed examination with the pelvis-the main bones needed to reliably s.e.x the indi vidual. Lynn Webber had already judged that Blue Doe was female, and Diane confirmed that the pelvis was indeed that of a female.

Blue had slim hips, almost androgynous-hardly wider than those of a male her age. Diane ran a thumb along the fine line representing the epiphyseal union of the iliac crest with the flared innominate bone. Fu sion occurs anywhere from fifteen to twenty-three years of age. The iliac crest was not completely fused.

She turned the pelvis in her hand and examined it for marks or distinguishing characteristics. There were none. No weapon marks, no sign of injury or disease. Nor was there sign Blue had ever been pregnant or given birth, though stress on the pelvis from pregnancy doesn't always show. The rugged ridged look of the pubic symphysis conveyed an age of eighteen or nineteen-consistent with the epiphyseal fusion. So very young.

Diane measured the bone at all of its landmarks and recorded the information. So far she'd found nothing that would help her identify the remains, but she hadn't really expected to in the pelvis.

After the pelvis, she went to the skull, picking it up gently. The mandible was detached now that the mus cle and ligaments were gone. She picked it up, held it in place and looked into the bone face. Blue had no cavities, a slight overbite, smooth high forehead, slight cheekbones, a pointed chin-and a nose job.

The nasal spine, the spike below the nasal opening that acts as the nose's strut, had been modified. A portion of the bridge of the nose had been removed. Blue had undergone extensive rhinoplasty.

A satisfied feeling tended down to her identifying Blue Doe.

gripped Diane's brain and ex stomach-one step forward in She went about the meticulous task of measuring the crainometric points on the skull until she had vir tually a mathematical definition of the face-the length, width, the measurement of each feature and its distance from every other feature. It was a narrow Caucasian female face.

Diane examined each of Blue's bones for signs of healed breaks, disease, pathology, cuts from knives or chips from bullets. Other than having the tips of her fingers cut off and a shattered hyoid bone from the hanging, there were no other diagnostically impor tant marks.

With the s.e.x and race established, Diane measured several of Blue's long bones on the bone board. From one person to another, bones are relatively consistent in their size relationship to each other. The length of any of the long bones when referenced on the stature tables for age and race gives a reasonably accurate estimate of the height of the individual.

Blue was a five-foot-five-inch woman, girl really, probably between 18 and 23, but not older than that. She was of good health and strong body-attested to by her prominent muscle attachments. The beveling on the glenoid cavity of her right scapula suggested she rotated her right arm in its socket more than the left, and so was probably right-handed. She'd had good enough dental care and hygiene to have avoided cavities. She had no orthodontia, and her third molars, the wisdom teeth, hadn't yet erupted. Blue had expen sive plastic surgery. These did not appear to be the bones of a homeless waif, as the sheriff thought.

He-whoever had killed Blue-had taken her fin gertips, so all the terminal phalanxes were missing. Trophy or practicality? Trophy or practicality? She took the medial phalanxes to her dissecting microscope and examined the distal ends. All showed damage. The surface was cut enough on three of them that she could see a striation pattern-two lines, one thicker than the other, per haps representing a flaw on the cutting edge of the tool. She photographed the images. She took the medial phalanxes to her dissecting microscope and examined the distal ends. All showed damage. The surface was cut enough on three of them that she could see a striation pattern-two lines, one thicker than the other, per haps representing a flaw on the cutting edge of the tool. She photographed the images.

After recording the information that now defined Blue Doe, Diane turned to the ropes that had bound her. She took them from the box and laid them out on the table next to the skeleton. The rope was rela tively new and made from hemp. It was rough and stiff in her hands. The loose fibers p.r.i.c.ked her sensi tive fingers.

Diane's tender skin made her realize how long it had been since she'd been caving. As a caver she didn't use natural fiber rope but the stronger nylon. Even though she wore special gloves when she caved, her hands were hardened when she was regularly on rope. They had gotten soft.

She examined each knot in detail. They were as she had described to the sheriff and Garnett-handcuff knot and bowlines backed up by a stopper knot. Diane teased the rope until she loosened the stopper knot.

Personally, she used a figure eight when she needed a stopper. Whoever tied Blue used a stevedore's knot-similar to a figure eight but with an extra twist. Further examination showed that he had also tied a stevedore's knot on the loose end of the bowline that made the neck noose, on the end of the anchor's bend around the tree limb, on the end of the handcuff knot, and on the end of the loop from the handcuffs to the neck.

Diane bet to herself that he used the same pattern in all of his knots with the other two victims. Not a significant MO, but certainly one that could help tag a suspect if the sheriff found one.

Green Doe was at the next table, lying in his clear plastic box with his rope next to him. She opened the boxes and took out the ropes. Bowline, handcuff knot, anchor's bend-all tied the same way and all with a stevedore's knot as stoppers. She was right. He made a habit of tying knots a certain way. Another little piece of the puzzle.

As she stood looking at the knots, basking in the pleasure of her discovery, something about the profile of Green Doe's skull peeking out from its plastic con tainer caught her attention.

Chapter 14.

Diane cradled the back of Green Doe's skull in her hand and inspected his face, drawing a finger over the long nasal bone. The nasion, the place between the eyes where the nasal bone meets the frontal bone, the top most landmark that defines the height of the nose, was only slightly indented. The bridge of the nose con nected with the frontal bone, making an almost flat plain. Below the nose opening, the anterior nasal spine was quite long. Green Doe had a large nose. What she found interesting was not the size of the nose, but that if Green Doe had decided to have a nose job, it would have been of the same type that Blue Doe had. Odd.

Diane glanced at her watch. It was late. If she ex pected to get any sleep, she didn't have time to do another skeleton, no matter how loudly this one now called to her.

"d.a.m.ned interesting," she muttered to herself as she reluctantly put the skull back in the box.

She locked the osteo lab and walked back to the crime lab. She was glad to see that her crew was gone. They all needed sleep. The night operator was settled behind her desk reading a book. Diane waved as she left by the museum entrance.

Diane rarely used the lab's private elevator that al lowed her to come and go and never set foot in the museum. Walking through the large exhibit rooms gave her psyche a rest after dealing with all the grim aspects of crime.

When she stepped out of the third-floor crime lab wing and closed the door behind her, the change in ambiance was startling. The shiny metal antiseptic fur nishings and white walls were replaced by dark, rich wood walls, granite floors, vaulted ceilings and the sweet smell of wood polish. She crossed the overlook that allowed a view onto the huge first-floor dinosaur room, where she saw the silhouette of David sitting on a bench in the dim light. Looking at the wall paint ings, no doubt. The pictures of dinosaurs didn't exactly have the soothing quality of Vermeers, but she herself often unwound by sitting quietly and looking at them-or at any number of wonderful things in the museum.

She took the museum elevator to the first floor and joined David in the dinosaur room with the skeletons of the twenty-five-foot-long T. rex T. rexlooking Alber tosaurus, Alber tosaurus, the suspended pteranodon with his bony wings nearly spanning the width of the room, the aquatic tylosaurus, the three-horned triceratops, and the newly arrived brachiosaur. the suspended pteranodon with his bony wings nearly spanning the width of the room, the aquatic tylosaurus, the three-horned triceratops, and the newly arrived brachiosaur.

She sat down beside David on the bench. "Relaxing?"

"Looking at that little unicorn."

The museum's wall paintings were done in a style of dated realism that gave them a charming antique quality. A distinctly unique characteristic of the twelve wall murals was the tiny unicorns hidden in each painting. Diane never tired of looking at them. Appar ently, neither did David, for she often found him sit ting with the Mesozoic Era dinosaurs or in the Pleistocene room.

"What are you thinking about it?"

"Some days I think he's going to get trampled. Other times, I think he's just going along with the big guys."

"They never get trampled," said Diane. "They're magic."

"That's good to know. Sometimes I worry about them."

"You don't have to worry."

David's voice was calm, quieter than usual. "My divorce became final today," he said.

Another casualty of our work, Diane thought. Diane thought.

"You okay with that?"

"Actually, yes. I don't feel much about it. It's not that I don't still love Carolyn, but . . . I don't feel it anymore-if that makes any sense whatsoever."

"I guess I can understand that."

"I thought we might get back together. She was excited when I got a job at a museum."

"Then she discovered you would still be doing crime scenes?"

"Yeah."

"You know, David..."

"I need to do this. I need to see justice done. De spite all the little political undercurrents, this is a good place to work."

"Yes, it is, despite all the political undercurrents- as long as you can swim."

David smiled. "That was a good thing-sending Neva to work the car. She just left here a while ago. Found some blood. A few fibers and some miscellany. She's getting a warrant to go over Mayberry's trailer."

"Blood's not good."

"There wasn't much of it. So who knows? We may yet have a happy ending. What do you think's going on?"

"I don't have a handle on it yet." Diane told him about the discoveries she found on the skeletons.

"Interesting about the noses. What you figure?"

Diane shrugged her shoulders. "Coincidence, maybe? Perhaps a familial relationship? Maybe they met each other in Blue's doctor's waiting room?"

"It'll be interesting to compare DNA. The M.E. did take samples, didn't she?"

"Sure. But you know how DNA is. Good chance it's all degraded. I'm going home to get some rest. You head home too."

Diane left the dinosaur room, walked down the hall way past the museum store and cut through the pri mate section to the main lobby of the museum. Chanell Napier, the museum's head of security, was at the desk.

"What're you doing here this late?" asked Diane.

Chanell was slender and athletic. She had dark skin, a round face and black hair cut close to her head.

"I like to rotate out with the night guards once in a while. Keeps me up to date on what goes on at night. I get to know the night custodial staff."

"I hope not a lot goes on here at night." Diane laughed.

"It's pretty quiet. Just a lot of polishing of these shiny floors and walls. I like things quiet."

"So do I. Carry on." Diane pa.s.sed through the dou ble doors that led to the private area of the museum where she and many of the other staff had their of fices. The office corridors were empty. The carpeting looked freshly vacuumed, so she guessed the custodial staff had already cleaned here.

She unlocked the private door to her office. On her desk was a stack of mail Andie had left for her. She sifted through the letters and placed them in stacks according to how urgent they were. Some she simply threw away.

Kendel had put a stack of requisition forms from the museum curators with notes attached to each re quest saying whether she thought it had merit.

"I think this is a good idea. Good price," read one note.

Diane looked at the form. The paleontology curator had found a small museum that was selling its collec tions. They had two casts of velociraptor skeletons for what really did appear to be a good price. The casts were damaged, but the paleontologist a.s.sured Diane that this wasn't a problem.