LC 04 - Skeleton Crew (16 page)

"Then, you think ..."

"Dysbaric osteonecrosis. Yes, the man's a scuba diver, in all
probability. That should aid in the identification."

"That's what it looked like to me, but I've seen the condition
only in photographs and x-rays. However-"

He looked up from the bone. "However?"

"The age of the bones is a problem."

"How old are they?"

"Around four hundred and forty years old."

He stared at her a moment. "I've clearly missed something."

Lindsay grinned. "I'm also an archaeologist, working off the
coast of St. Magdalena at the cofferdam site."

"Ah ... Yes. I've wanted to take one of the weekend tours out
there. Fascinating. Then, I'd say it must be disease that caused the
bone necrosis, however much it looks otherwise."

"Wouldn't most of the diseases that produce this effect have
killed him before it got to this stage in the bones?"

"Yes, many would." He puzzled over the bone.

"What causes dysbaric osteonecrosis?" asked Lindsay.

"Good question. Short answer, nitrogen embolization of the
blood vessels. The exact process isn't truly understood."

"And that is from... ?"

"Breathing compressed air. Also, there's a relationship with
diving at extreme depths." He grinned. "You have an interesting
problem."

"I do indeed."

"This fellow-it is a fellow, isn't it?"

Lindsay nodded. "I haven't completed my examination, but I'd
say he's Asian and between the ages of twenty-five and forty."

"He's from that ship you all are excavating, then?"

"Yes. He's the second skeleton we've found. Lucky for us. Had
they not become buried quickly and deeply, the sea water would
have disintegrated the bones by this time."

"And you say the other one was murdered? On board ship?"

"Apparently. I think in the next couple of days there will be a
write-up in the newspaper about it."

"I'll keep a lookout." Dr. Rosen took a pad of paper from his
pocket and began scribbling. "Here's a list of diseases that result in
avascular and aseptic necrosis. Like you say, in that era many of
the diseases would have killed him before they were manifested in
the bones. I'll leave those off. The fellow could have been an alcoholic or he could have had serious problems with gout." He
smiled. "There are many alternatives, but look at the bones that are
not involved. Dysbaric osteonecrosis doesn't usually involve the
wrists, ankles, or elbows." He threw up his hands. "It can't be dysbaric, I don't know why I'm even considering it." Then he grinned.
"But it's fascinating."

She tucked the list in her notebook. "Thank you for your consultation. If you decide to visit the site, I'll give you a guided tour."

On her way out, Lindsay told the receptionist where to send
the bill. Bobbie Lacayo sat reading a magazine in the waiting
room.

"The grocery store was close by and I picked up the stuff I
needed. Want to have lunch on River Street before we head back?"

Lindsay and Bobbie sat in a cafe eating hamburgers and looking out at the distant big ships.

"This has been a nice break," Bobbie said. "I was starting to feel
like an extra in Waterworld. So tell me, how are you and John getting along?"

"Actually, we are getting along, which is surprising. We are
such opposites. Tell me, what do you know about the history of
compressed air?"

"Nothing. How did we get there from here?"

Lindsay told her about the dubious condition of the skeleton.
"How about the history of scuba diving?"

"I used to know a little about that. I've dived all my life and I've
done a lot of school papers on the topic. But that was in high
school." She frowned in concentration, trying to remember.
"Alexander the Great had a diving bell named Columbine, or maybe
that was Harlequin's girlfriend. Something like that anyway. That's
all I remember."

"But where would they get compressed air?"

Bobbie made like she was holding something in her fists and moved her hands back and forth. "Bellows. But, surely, you don't
think. . ."

Lindsay waved her hand. "No, it's probably one of the diseases
Rosen listed, or alcohol or gout or arthritis even. It's just that what
I see in the bones is identical to dysbaric osteonecrosis. When
Rosen first looked at the bones, he thought so, too."

"Odd. Lewis will like it."

"Not you, too? Why is it that Lewis's likes and dislikes form
everyone's standard of measurement?"

"He writes the checks. Big checks."

"Good point."

After buying a grocery sack full of homemade candy on River
Street, Bobbie said she was ready to head for home, and they
walked down the cobblestone street to the university's SUV. It was
seventy miles to the ferry that took them to St. Magdalena. They
were the only passengers on the ferry and sat in the SUV on the
short ride to the island.

"Since we have our supplies to carry, we can take the service
road to the lab," said Bobbie. "If we're lucky, Tessa or one of her
cronies won't be out there to tell us how we're polluting the
island."

"Is it really that bad with the biology people?"

"Not really. It's just annoying, and I can't say that we're blameless. I mean, not counting the fact that we took over the place, we
do tweak their noses at times."

"Nate told me."

"Yeah, he and Carolyn are the worst."

"Why are they so hostile?"

Bobbie shrugged. "Mike and Tessa are the main ones that are so
angry. The others are okay. Mike and Tessa had to give up their
suite to Harper. That was a big deal to Tessa. She had her computer
equipment set up in her apartment. They all ended up moving to
the ranger station. Besides that, apparently Mike had been having
a problem with Boote-you know, the old man-and his son,
Keith, poaching on the island, selling some of the rare plants and
messing up Mike's research. Mike had just got them to stay off,
and along comes our advance party, and Nate uses Keith and
Boote as informants, inviting them to the island. Mike was furious.
I can't blame him. The island is the only place some of the plants
they're studying grow."

"What did Nate and the others learn from Keith and his father?"

"Nate and Trey got a look at the junk they picked up on the
shore. Boote has searched the beach with a metal detector for years
and has jars of coins, I understand."

"Did they find anything from the wreck?"

"Not much. Some metal concretions. Some driftwood that may
have been part of a wooden ship that Trey said probably wasn't the
Estrella. About three years ago Keith found part of a schooner that
sank in 1910 near Florida. Not much left of it but a few lamps,
brass fittings, and a compass, I think. There was some controversy
about it. He kind of looted it without telling anybody. He had an
attitude much like Eva Jones-if he found it, it was his. Since the
stuff he found wasn't valuable, it all blew over. I think he found a
couple of other ships, too. One was fairly modern-some sunken
yacht a few miles out from Savannah. I don't know what the other
one was. None had anything of real value in it, I don't think. He
said he made a few bucks off the salvage."

"And yet he got along with Nate?"

"Trey thought that if they made friends with Keith and Boote,
he could teach them why it's important to leave wrecks to be excavated professionally. Trey was in teaching mode at that time."

"And did it work?"

"For a while. This was all before the dam was built. Keith went
diving with us a couple of times. I was here at that time doing survey work. Keith got into a fight with Steven Nemo about salvaging
wrecks. You heard Steven at the party talking about Kennewick
Man. He's really single-minded about archaeological sovereignty."

"Archaeological sovereignty?"

Bobbie screwed up her face. "That's John's phrase. I guess you
know, he can get going, too." Lindsay nodded. "Keith stayed away
after that, until we had a storm that wrecked some of our boats.
Keith helped out. Some kind of code of the sea. Anyway, he and
Nate were friends for a while. Nate's pretty easy to get along with.
He was trying to stay on good terms in case Boote or Keith found
anything. I think Keith and Boote both got tired of us. We work all
the time and, to tell the truth, Keith is kind of a beach bum who
never grew up."

"What about you? You going to switch to marine archaeology?"

Bobbie shook her head. "I love to scuba dive and this is a lot of
fun. Easy 'A."' She grinned. "But I don't want to do it forever."

They arrived at the lab amid a swarm of people with "FBI"
written on their jackets.

"What in the world?" said Bobbie.

"Something has happened," said Lindsay.

They left the groceries in the vehicle and hurried through the
lab. Lindsay caught sight of Trey standing with Harper just inside
the front door. Harper had her arms folded, looking at the floor.
Trey stared out the door where several FBI men were gathered.
Francisco Lewis was with them. He looked grim.

"Trey?"

"Chamberlain, I'm glad you're back."

"What's going on?"

"They've found a body in the alligator pool."

"A BODY? WHOSE?" Lindsay looked through the glass doors to see
if she could get a glimpse of something, but all she saw was people standing in the way.

"We don't know yet," answered Trey. "This being hot weather,
and it being in the alligator pond, and alligators being carrion
eaters-well."

Bobbie groaned.

"So, Chamberlain. I got your note." Trey seemed eager to
change the subject. "You went to see a Dr. Rosen in Savannah this
morning?"

"Yes. He's an orthopedist. I had a question about the new skeleton."

"Well, this must be a first." Trey attempted a smile.

"The skeleton shows signs of bone necrosis-some of his bones
looked like they had been dying."

"So, he had some disease, I suppose?" Trey looked out the windows at the authorities. Lewis caught his eye and came walking up
the wooden walkway toward them.

"I'll have to thin-section the bone-"

Lewis entered, and they all waited for an answer to the question that was on their minds. But he only shook his head.

"I don't know what they're doing. Lindsay, I'm glad you're
back. Perhaps you could find out. Maybe you know some of those
agents. I don't understand why the rangers called the FBI."

"That's because this is a national park. The FBI has jurisdiction."

For all Lewis's political knowledge, she was surprised he
didn't know that. His face brightened.

"Oh. Is that it? I thought it was, well, something serious." He paused. "Not that this isn't, but more serious, if you know what I
mean."

Lindsay hadn't seen him flustered before. She doubted many
people had.

"Lindsay, I want you to look into this."

"What? I have no authority. The FBI knows what they're
doing."

"I want us to have some control-" he began. Nate, Steven,
Carolyn and some of the others began drifting over to them, and
he stopped talking.

"Who found the body?" Lindsay asked.

"Tessa," said Trey. "She and Mike were coming up the walkway, and she looked over the side and saw what she thought was
a boot caught in the fork of a log."

"Do you know who it is?"

"No. The park rangers and FBI were already here when we got
here," Trey replied. "Naturally, Tessa and Mike won't say anything. They probably think we did it to irritate them."

"They can ease their minds about that. If we were the culprits,
one of them would be the victim," said Carolyn. They all laughed
uneasily.

A Hispanic man in an FBI jacket opened the door and leaned in,
asking for Lewis and Trey to come out. Lewis grabbed Lindsay's
arm as he passed and pulled her along. The others followed, but
stopped just outside the doorway.

"They had a fight." Everyone's head turned toward Mike.

"Who?" asked the FBI agent.

"Nate and Keith," Mike said with a sneer. "Then nobody ever
saw Keith again after that."

"Now, wait just a minute!" Nate started for Mike, but one of the
rangers stepped in front of him.

"Let's just calm down and let the FBI sort things out."

"You bloody bastard," Nate swore through his teeth. "Who was
it that got him and his father thrown off the island for messing up
your experiments?"

So it's Keith, thought Lindsay as she followed Lewis through
the parting crowd of onlookers. How curious, she thought. Bobbie
and she had just been talking about him. The smell of death drifted
up from the covered body. Lewis and Trey put a hand to their
noses.

"We need an identification," said the man, introducing himself
as Agent A. C. Ramirez. "I understand, Dr. Marcus, that you have
been here from the beginning. Maybe you know him?"

Lindsay saw Trey and Lewis tense as Agent Ramirez reached
down for the black plastic that covered the body, girding themselves for the image they were about to see. He lifted the sheet. It
wasn't Keith. Lindsay had been here only a few days, but she
could identify the body herself, and he looked as troublesome in
death as he had been in life.

Both Lewis and Trey gasped in surprise.

"It's Hardy Denton," said Trey.

Lewis put his hands to his face and let them slide down his
cheeks. Lindsay knew what he was thinking.

"He. .." Trey tried to find the words. "He was a contractor, one
of the bidders on the cofferdam project."

"Not the winning bidder, I presume?" asked Ramirez.

"No," answered Lewis. "He was not the winner."

As they spoke, Lindsay scrutinized the body as well as she
could from a distance, trying to see if the cause of death was evident. His face, a greenish mask with large purple marks looking
like port-wine birthmarks, showed signs of having been nibbled
on by aquatic life. Lindsay thought there might have been a bruise
on the side of his cheek, but she couldn't be sure, because of the
other markings. What most interested her was a slight pink tinge
on his nostrils and in the corners of his mouth. Pretending to move
back from the body, she let her foot touch his legs covered by the
black plastic. They seemed stiff.