Spider Bones

“Coffee.”

“Don’t start without me.” Lô disappeared through the door.

To pass the time, I looked again at the photos. There was Spider leaning on the Chevy. There he was, a scrolly number 12 on his chest.

I wondered what position Spider had played. If he’d enjoyed baseball. How often the coach had sent him into a game.

Plato said a cousin got Spider to join the team, that his son mostly rode the bench.

What was the cousin’s name?

Reggie. Reggie Cumbo.

I looked at Reggie, down on one knee, unsmiling. The resemblance to Spider really was unca

Plato said the boys were related through Harriet.

I pictured the old man as he spoke of his wife. Again felt his grief.

What had Plato said? Harriet had pretty eyes, one brown, one green as a loblolly pine.

A minute particle popped into being in my brain.

Fingerprints said the man who died in Hemmingford was Spider Lowery.

DNA said he wasn’t.

Army records said Spider Lowery died in Vietnam.

The man talking to Schoon said he didn’t.

I remembered the snapshot of Harriet Lowery standing on a pier. Her sun-fried chest. Her mismatched eyes.

The lone particle was joined by others.

I remembered my conversation with Harriet’s transplant physician. Macken admitted that irregularities had surfaced during testing for tissue compatibility. DNA showed that Harriet could not be Tom’s mother.

Plato and Harriet rejected that.

Tom was Spider’s twin.

I recalled a court case. An article.

The particles coalesced into a full-blown theory.

I stared at the monitor, hardly breathing, willing the man in the mask to look into the camera.

The door opened.

Come on!

Footsteps crossed the room.

Come on!

Lô set a Coke in front of me.

Come on!

On the screen, Schoon entered and placed a white paper bag on the table. The duo from California withdrew sodas, sandwiches, paper napkins. Popped cans. Opened and squeezed packets of mayo and mustard.

Do it, you bastard! Look at me!

Finally, he did.

And I knew who he was.

And what had happened.

I SHOT TO MY FEET.

“I need to get online.”

Ryan and Lô looked at me like I’d said I was joining Al Qaeda.

“Tell Schoon to stall.”

“Why?”

“Just keep this guy talking.”

I hurried to reception and made my request.

Unruffled, Tina led me to an empty office, typed a few keystrokes, and withdrew without query.

Moneype

Logging on, I went to the New England Journal of Medicine, called up an article, and speed-read. Scribbled notes. Moved through link after link until satisfied my understanding was adequate.

Next I entered a name and followed those loops.

A second name.

More loops.

I practically danced my way back to the conference room.

A woman had joined Ryan and Lô. She was tall, with short brown hair and acne-scarred cheeks. I placed her age at midthirties.

Lô made introductions. He didn’t look happy.

The newcomer was Maya Cotton, an ADA with the Honolulu prosecutor’s office.

Cotton and I shook hands.

“Anyway, sorry to spoil your day,” Cotton said.

“Sonofabitch.” Lô whacked a table leg with one foot.

“What?” I asked, not really interested, anxious to share my breakthrough.

“They kicked Pinky Atoa this morning.”

That surprised me. “He admitted to being involved in the Kealoha-Faalogo murder.”

Snorting in disgust, Lô gestured to Cotton.

“It turned out Atoa was actually only sixteen. The confession’s out. Since there’s really nothing else, he couldn’t be held.”

Down the hall, Schoon was still questioning Face Mask.

“Did I miss much?” I asked, gesturing at the screen.

“Spider’s reborn,” Ryan said. “Plans to join the Jesuits.”

“I know what happened.” I was so jazzed I showed no empathy for Lô’s frustration. “Spider. Xander. Lapasa. I just needed some medical info.”

“Lecture alert,” Ryan whispered to Lô and Cotton.

“I’ll keep it brief.” I was too pumped to take offense.

“And intelligible.”

“Yeah, yeah. No jargon.”

Deep breath.

“In two thousand two a pregnant woman named Lydia Fairchild applied for welfare in the UK. In addition to her unborn infant, she had two children by a man named Jamie Townsend. As part of the application process, Fairchild had to provide DNA evidence that Townsend was the father. Results showed that he was, but indicated that she wasn’t the mother.”

“Bummer,” Ryan said.

“No kidding. Fairchild was accused of fraud and her kids were taken into care. A judge ordered that a witness be present when she delivered, and that blood samples be taken from Fairchild and the baby. DNA indicated she was not the mother of that child either, even though it was a witnessed birth. A breakthrough came when lawyers discovered a similar case in Boston.”

“Thank the Lord for defense attorneys.” Lô, the king of sarcasm.

“In fact, it was the prosecutor.” I smiled at Cotton. “In nineteen ninety-eight a woman named Karen Keegan needed a kidney transplant. Her adult sons were tested for suitability as donors. Two of the three failed to match her DNA to the extent a biological child should. More sophisticated testing showed that Keegan was a chimera, a combination of two separate sets of cell lines with two separate sets of chromosomes.”

“How’d they figure that?” Ryan asked.

“Different DNA sequencing was found in tissues other than the ones originally taken from Keegan. Fairchild’s prosecutors suggested this possibility to her lawyers, and DNA samples were collected from members of the extended family. The DNA for Fairchild’s children matched that of her mother to the extent expected for a grandmother.”

“Showing she was the mother.” Cotton looked confused.

“Further tests showed that while DNA obtained from Fairchild’s skin and hair didn’t match her children’s, DNA obtained from a cervical smear was different and did match them.”

“Fairchild was carrying two different sets of genes.” Ryan simplified, but basically got it right.

“Yep.”

“That’s what this chimera thing is?” Lô.

“Yep.” I glanced at my notes.

“This is where she tells us all about it,” Ryan warned the other two.

“Two types of chimerism occur in humans. With microchimerism only a small portion of the body has a distinct cell line. Typically that arises because foreign cells have managed to stabilize inside a host.”

“Foreign?” Cotton asked.

“Could be cells originating from maternal-fetal exchange during pregnancy. For example, the fetus may pass on its stem and progenitor cells to the mother via the placenta. Because they’re undifferentiated, these cells may be able to survive and proliferate in the mother’s system. Maternal stem cells may be transferred to the fetus in the same way.”

No one said anything, so I continued.

“Microchimerism can also occur between twins. Actually, the most common form of human chimera is called a blood chimera. That results when fraternal twins share some portion of the same placenta. Blood is exchanged and takes up residence in the bone marrow. Each twin is genetically distinct except for their blood, which has two distinct sets of genes, maybe even two distinct blood types.”

“How common is it?” Ryan.

“It’s estimated that up to eight percent of fraternal twins are blood chimeras.” I thought a moment. “Things like blood transfusions or organ transplants can also produce microchimerism in a recipient.”

“That what happened to these ladies you’re talking about?” Lô asked.

“No. What Fairchild and Keegan had is a much rarer type, tetragametic chimerism. This occurs when two separate ova are fertilized by two separate sperm and produce two zygotes.”