В сердце большого города скрываются тайны и загадки. Каждое утро открывает новый слой этой истории, напоминая о безвозвратности прошлого. Внутренние драмы и судьбы, переплетающиеся в пространстве и времени, создают непредсказуемую атмосферу будничной мелодрамы.
”
“Suggesting they didn’t stray too far from home.”
“Right. But 38428 is a different story.”
I waited.
“Her skeletal Sr values are higher than her dental Sr values. What’s more, her skeletal Sr values are very similar to the skeletal Sr values for 38426 and 38427.”
“The Quebec stay-at-homes.”
“Yes.”
I took several moments to digest that.
“You’re suggesting 38428 was raised in one place, but spent the last few years of her life in another.”
“Looks that way.”
“That she may have grown up in north-central California.
“Or in an isotopically similar region.”
“But later she may have moved to Quebec or Vermont.”
“Or to an isotopically similar region.”
I couldn’t wait to phone Charbonneau.
“This is terrific, Art.”
“We aim to please. Let me know when you get these ladies ID’d.”
I was so excited I misdialed and had to punch the numbers a second time.
Charbonneau was out. So was Claudel.
Were they ever in?
I left a verbal message with the receptionist, then a numeric one on Charbonneau’s pager.
Back to my lab.
Anticipating what I might find, I carried the Dr. Energy girl’s skull and jaw to the scope.
There they were. Five tiny grooves, two above and three posterior to the auditory canal on the right temporal bone. Magnified, the cuts looked like those on 38427.
I could see nothing on the jaw or on any of the other cranial bones.
Sweet Jesus. What had been done to these girls?"
"Anne phoned at one-fifteen, her voice sounding listless and flat. After apologizing for being lousy company all week, she told me she was thinking of leaving.
I assured her that she was not imposing. I also assured her that I was enjoying her company tremendously. Given her current mood, the latter was a stretch, but I encouraged her to think in terms of staying until she decided on a better place to go.
Charbonneau phoned at one-forty.
“Cibole! It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there.”
Not all of Charbonneau’s expressions were Texan in origin.
“You ran the CPIC search?”
“I did.”
I heard cellophane.
“Since we don’t know if the two without dental sealant died before or after the one with the sealant, I ran those cases two ways. First I searched disappearances reported in the nineties.”
“Makes sense, given the Carbon 14.”
“Some came close, but no cigars.”
Charbonneau sounded like he was eating something involving caramel or taffy.
“Then I left the date of disappearance open.
