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

and dampened my hair, plastering the escapee strands to my forehead and
neck. I needn't have worried about my dress or coiffure. Fifteen yards
from the corpse I no longer needed a guide. Blending with the loamy
scent of woods and sunlight I detected the unmistakable smell of death.
The odor of decomposing flesh is like no other, and it hung there in the
warm afternoon air, faint but undeniable. Step by step, the sweet, fetid
stench grew stronger, building in intensity like the whine of a locust,
until it ceased blending, and overpowered all other smells. The aromas
of moss and humus and pine and sky deferred to the rankness of rotting
flesh. Gil stopped and hung back at a discreet distance. The smell was
enough. He didn't need another look. Ten feet farther the younger man
halted, turned, and wordlessly pointed to a small heap partially covered
by leaves and debris. Flies buzzed and circled around it, like academics
at a free buffet. At the sight my stomach went into a tuck, and the
voice in my head started *in on "I told you so." With growing dread, I
placed my pack at the base of a tree, withdrew a pair of surgical
gloves, and picked my way gingerly through the foliage. When I neared
the mound I could see where the men had raked away the vegetation. What
I saw confirmed my fears. Protruding from the leaves and soil was an
arcade of ribs, their ends curving upward like the framework of an
embryonic boat. I bent down for a closer look. Flies whined in protest,
the sun iridescent on their blue-green bodies. When I cleared more
debris I could see that the ribs were held in place by a segment of
spinal column. Taking a deep breath, I eased on the latex gloves and
began to remove handfuls of dead leaves and pine needles. As I exposed
the backbone to the sunlight, a knot of startled beetles flew apart. The
bugs disentangled themselves and scuttled outward, disappearing one by
one over the vertebral edges. Ignoring the insects, I continued to
remove sediment. Slowly, carefully, I cleared an area approximately
three feet square. In less than ten minutes I could see what Gil and his
partner had discovered. Brushing hair from my face with a latexed hand,
I leaned back on my heels and surveyed the emerging picture.

I looked at a partially skeletonized torso, the rib cage, backbone, and
pelvis still connected by dried muscle and ligament. While connective
tissue is stubborn, refusing to yield its hold on the joints for months
or years, the brain and internal organs are not so tenacious. With the
aid of bacteria and insects, they decompose quickly, sometimes in a
matter of weeks.

I could see remnants of brown and desiccated tissue clinging to the
thoracic and abdominal surfaces of the bones. As I squatted there, the
flies buzzing and the sunlight dappling the woods around me, I knew two
things with certainty. The torso was human, and it hadn't been there
long.

I knew also that its arrival in that place wasn't by chance. The victim
had been killed and dumped. The remains lay on a plastic bag, the common
kitchen variety used for garbage. It was ripped open now, but I guessed
the bag had been used to transport the torso. The head and limbs were