"Reichs, Kathy - Temperance Brennan 01 - Deja Dead" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reichs Kathy)

I could have explained how bone reveals age, but I didn't think he'd be
a good listener, so I just waited. Particles of cartilage clung to my
gloved hands, and I held them away from my body, palms up, like a
panhandler. Claudel kept the same distance he would with an Ebola
patient. His eyes stayed on me, but their focus shifted to thoughts
inside his head as he ran through the data, looking for a match.

"Gagnon." It was a statement, not a question. I nodded. Isabelle Gagnon.
Age twenty-three.

"I'll have the coroner request dental records," he said. I nodded again.
He seemed to bring it out in me. "Cause of death?" he asked.

"Nothing apparent," I said. "I may know more when I see the X rays. Or I
may see something on the bones when they're cleaned."

With that he left. He didn't say good-bye. I didn't expect it. His
departure was mutually appreciated.

I stripped off my gloves and tossed them. On the way out I poked my head
into the large autopsy suite and told Daniel I was finished with this
case for the day. I asked him to take full body and cranial X rays, A-P
and lateral views. Upstairs I stopped by the histology lab and told the
head technician that the body was ready for boiling, warning him to take
extra care since this was a dismemberment. It was unnecessary. No one
could reduce a body like Denis. In two days a skeleton would appear,
clean and undamaged.

I spent the rest of the afternoon with the glued-together skull. Though
fragmentary, there was, indeed, enough detail to confirm the identity of
its owner. He wouldn't drive any more propane tankers. Returning home, I
began to feel the sense of foreboding I'd experienced in the ravine. All
day I'd used work to keep it at bay. I'd banished the apprehension by
centering my mind fully on identifying the victim and on piecing
together the late trucker. At lunch the park pigeons had been my
distraction. Unraveling the pecking order could be all-consuming. Gray
was alpha. Brown speckles seemed to be next. Blackfoot was clearly low
on the list. Now I was free to relax. To think. To worry. It started as
soon as I pulled into the garage and turned off the radio. Music off,
anxiety on. No, I admonished myself. Later. After dinner.

I entered the apartment and heard the reassuring beep of the security
system. Leaving my briefcase in the entry hall, I closed the door and
walked to the Lebanese restaurant on the corner, where I ordered a Shish
Taouk and Shawarma plate to go. It's what I love most about living
downtown-within a block of my condo are representative samples of all
the cuisines of the world. Could the weight gain... ? Nah. While I
waited for the take-out I perused the buffet selections. Homos. Taboule.
Feuilles de vignes. Bless the global village. Lebanese gone French.