Spider Bones

“Why no X-rays?” I asked. “Wasn’t every soldier given a dental exam at induction?”

“Theoretically, yes. If not at his or her induction center, maybe in boot camp, maybe in-country, at Bien Hoa Air Base, for example. But it didn’t always happen.”

“You’re suggesting Lowery slipped through the cracks?”

“Maybe. Here’s another possibility. Troops reporting to a new duty station often carried their own records with them. It helped with in-processing if medical and dental information arrived at the same time as the soldier.”

I saw where Da

“No. Sometimes paperwork caught up later. Maybe Lowery’s records arrived in Vietnam after he was killed and his body was shipped home.”

“Any way to tell from the file if X-rays ever existed?”

“Not really. Say a soldier had a periapical or a bitewing done. The X-rays might have been attached to the folder using a two-hole punch. Or they might have been placed into a small manila envelope and added to the file loose. Either way, the films could be lost or misplaced.”

Sudden ominous thought. “Or deliberately removed?”

Something flicked in Da

“Meaning?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“I suppose.” Da

“Consistent with the reported chopper crash,” I said. “As are the missing hands and feet and the cranial fractures.”

“The biological profile, the trauma, the timing, the body recovery location. It all fit. Thus the ID at Tan Son Nhut back in sixty-eight.”

“Johnson, Dadko, and some writing-challenged medical officer shipped this guy home as Spider Lowery.”

“Weickma

“What?”

“The medical officer’s name was Weickma

“You could read that scrawl?”

“Years of practice.”

“Whatever. Prints from my Quebec floater say they were wrong.”

“Nam was exploding in sixty-eight. The system was overwhelmed.”

Indeed.

Early in the war, a single facility processed all Americans killed in Southeast Asia. When fatalities soared in the spring of ’67, it became apparent that the status could no longer be quo. Cramped and located in a congested part of the base, the Tan Son Nhut mortuary was inefficient, inadequate, and a hazard to health.

As a result, a second mortuary was opened at the Da Nang Air Base. Begi

But the Tet offensive shot numbers into the biosphere. In February 1968, the two mortuaries processed roughly three thousand sets of remains, a total greater than for any comparable period to that point.

The upshot was the construction of a modern twenty-table facility on a new patch of ground at Tan Son Nhut. The new facility became operational in August 1968.

Spider Lowery’s Huey crashed at Long Binh in January of that year, shortly after Tet and eight months before the revamped Tan Son Nhut mortuary came online.

In the chaos of war, a mistake had been made.

At a little past one Da

While driving back to the CIL, I called Katy. To describe her as unhappy would be like saying Nixon was a bit bummed by the tapes.

By two fifteen Da

Adipocere is a waxlike substance formed by the hydrolysis of fat during decomposition. I’d about had it when a small chunk of the stuff dropped into the sink from the fragment of upper jaw I was scrubbing. I watched water eddy around it, swirling bits away and down into the drain.

I shifted my gaze to the newly exposed facial architecture. None of the cheekbone survived, and the zygomaxillary suture was unremarkable.

I rotated the fragment.

The upper palate was broad, its intersecting sutures largely unfused.

I inserted my probe into one of the empty tooth sockets. Another crumb of adipocere popped free. My eyes followed its flight path into the sink.

The original chunk had now been reduced by half. I was returning my attention to the maxilla when something caught my attention, more a glint of light than a visual impression.

Reaching down, I scooped the remainder of the original chunk onto my glove. When I poked, the thing split into two halves.

An object lay glistening in my glove.

“WHATCHA GOT?” DANNY NOTICED ME STARING AT MY PALM.

I extended my hand.

Whipping off his glasses, Da

“Flip her over.”

I turned the thing with my probe. “Look familiar?”

“Nope.”

“Think it’s something?”

“Everything’s something.”

“Profound.”

“Looks like metal. Where was it?”

“Enveloped in adipocere packing the basicranium, below the palate.”

“Good eye.”

“Thanks.”

“M’lady’s penchant for shiny things pays off. Let’s scope it.”

We did, at increasing powers of magnification.

The object was roughly five millimeters long by three millimeters wide by a millimeter or so thick, and appeared to be made of gold. Its shape was irregular, with a lopsided glob on one side and two tapering projections on the other.

“Looks like a duck with a wide-open beak.”

The image didn’t work for me.

I rotated the thing ninety degrees. Da

“Now it’s a mushroom with two pointy stems.”

I looked. “I can see that. Any idea what it is?”

“Not really.”

“A chip from a filling or crown?”

“Ehhh.” Da

“What? Ehhh?”

“Looks too thin and too flat.”

Da

Five forty-five. I hadn’t noticed the lab grow quiet. Or realized we were now alone.

“Quitting time?” I asked, knowing the answer.

Though Da

“Quitting time.” Sheepish grin. Or horny. Or hungry. “Aggie’s making Salisbury steak.”

Da

“Tomorrow we can pick Craig’s brain.” Craig Brooks was one of the three CIL dentists.

After removing our lab coats we headed out, Da

Katy was on a lounge chair by the pool. I took a moment to observe her through the sliding glass door.

Katy wasn’t listening to her iPod, talking on her cell phone, surfing or blogging with her laptop. No book or magazine lay in her lap. Dressed in the same tank and drawstring pants she’d worn the night before, she simply sat staring out to sea.

In a word, she looked miserable.

Again I was swept by a feeling of helplessness. I knew only time would ease my daughter’s pain, and that a week had yet to pass since news of Coop’s death. I also knew the delivery of that news had been cold and impersonal.

Still.

Steeling myself, I exited to the lanai.

“How you doing, tough stuff?” A childhood endearment.

“Ready for the play-offs.” Flat.

“Where did you go today?” Dropping into the chair beside Katy’s.

“Nowhere.”

“What did you do?”