The Associate (9 page)

“And there were no ovaries and no uterus,” Dr. Grace added with a smile. “That was a big clue.”

Billie laughed. “So, how was John Doe killed?”

“First, you need to know that he was dead before he was set on fire,” the ME said. “There was still some blood in his heart. It was deep purple instead of red or pink, so I guessed that carbon monoxide was not present. The test confirmed my guess. If he was alive when he burned I would have found carbon monoxide in his blood.

“His airways were also free of soot, which he would have breathed in if he was breathing when the fire started.”

Dr. Grace bent over the corpse. “See these marks?” she asked, pointing to several notches that scarred one of the ribs. “They were made by a knife. The rib is in close proximity to the heart. Luckily, he was lying on a concrete floor, so his front was protected to a certain degree and the heart was preserved. It showed stab wounds and there was blood in the left chest and pericardial sac, which you’d expect with a stabbing.”

“What about the skull? The monkey was shot. It looks like Doe’s skull was blown out the same way,” Billie said.

“Come over here,” Dr. Grace said as she led the group over to a table covered by a white sheet that stood in front of a stainless-steel counter and sink. On the sheet were the fragments of Doe’s skull that had been gathered at the crime scene. They had been painstakingly pieced together.

“Gunshots cause linear fractures that radiate out from the hole caused by the exit or entrance of the bullet. We didn’t find linear fractures and you can see that there’s no hole formed by the skull fragments.

“If the skull had been fractured by blunt force trauma from a club or baseball bat or something like that, we would have found sections of bone showing a depression from the blow.”

“So what’s the explanation?” Billie asked.

“The brain is blood-intensive. When the fire heated the blood it generated steam that blew out the back of John Doe’s skull.”

The detective grimaced.

“Was he stabbed to death at the lab?” Kate asked.

“I can’t tell you that. We did find some fibers that were crushed into the fabric of his clothing and survived the fire. I’m having the lab test them. If they’re the type of fibers you find in a car trunk, we can guess that he was transported to the lab, but that would only be a guess.”

“What about time of death?” Billie asked. “Can you tell how many days he’s been dead?”

“I can’t do much for you there.” Dr. Grace pointed to a sieve resting in a metal pot on one of the autopsy tables. “That’s his last meal,” she said, indicating pieces of steak, baked potato skin, lettuce, and tomato. “He was killed within an hour of eating, but how long ago I can’t say.”

Billie turned to Jack Forester. “Can you tell me enough about him for me to match him with a missing person report?”

“Well, we’ve got the teeth, of course. The guy has had dental work done. Brubaker’s out of town,” Forester said, referring to Dr. Harry Brubaker, the forensic dentist who was normally present at autopsies. “We’ll get these over to him when he comes back from vacation. But he won’t be much help until we have someone to whom he can match the dental work.”

“Can you tell anything from the teeth?” asked Kate, who had read a few books in Forester’s field.

“They do give us some idea of Doe’s age,” he answered. “We know a person is eighteen or younger if his wisdom teeth have not erupted, so this guy is definitely over eighteen. The degeneration of the skeleton also helps us with his age. Now this is very subjective, but the changes in this guy’s spine tell me that he’s probably older than thirty.

“The last thing I did was check out the configuration of the pelvis. Where the two halves of the pelvis meet in front is called the pubic symphysis and it wears with age. A guy named T. Wingate Todd made casts of the pelvis of a wide range of corpses whose ages were known. He found that the wear pattern on the pelvis is pretty consistent at different ages.”

Forester pointed to a large Tupperware box that was sitting near the door. The lid was open and Billie could see several casts lying in foam.

“I matched the Todd casts to Doe. Taking all the other factors into account, I can give you a very subjective estimate of forty-five to fifty-five for our friend.”

Forester pointed to the skeleton’s nose.

“Now, I also know that we’ve got a Caucasian. An Asian’s nasal aperture is oval, a black’s is wide and short. This guy’s is tall and narrow. Ergo, a Caucasian.

“You can also tell from the eye sockets. Whites’ are the shape of aviator glasses, blacks’ are squarer, and Asians’ more rounded.”

“Any way to tell eye color?” Billie asked.

Forester shook his head. “Not with a burn victim. The eyes burn out. But I can tell you the guy’s height. He was between five eight and five ten. I got that from measuring his tibia and femur,” Forester said, pointing to the corpse’s shinbone and thighbone, “and comparing them to tables that were developed by measuring the lengths of the long bones of American casualties from the Second World War and the Korean War.”

“So we’ve probably got a white male, five eight to five ten, of average build, and forty-five to fifty-five years of age,” Billie summarized.

“Yup,” Forester answered. “Get a possible and his dental records and Brubaker can give you a positive ID.”

After dropping Kate at her house, Daniel drove home and fell into bed. Visions of a flaming laboratory jammed with screaming monkeys and deformed children haunted his dreams and he jerked awake more than once during the night. When he arrived at work the next morning, Daniel was pale and there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He checked his voice mail and found a message from Renee Gilchrist telling him that he was expected in Arthur Briggs’s office at eleven. This is it, Daniel thought. He slumped in his chair and looked around his office. A lump formed in his throat. He had worked so hard to get here and everything he’d earned was going to be snatched away because of a one-page letter.

At 10:54, Daniel pushed himself to his feet, checked his tie, and walked the last mile to Arthur Briggs’s office. Renee announced Daniel’s presence, then flashed him a sympathetic smile.

“Go on in. And good luck.”

“Thanks, Renee.”

Daniel straightened his shoulders and walked into the lion’s den, an incredible corner office that was obviously the creation of an expensive interior decorator. With diplomas from Duke University and the University of Chicago law school, and framed tributes to its occupant, the room was a testament to the greatness of Arthur Briggs.

“Have a seat, Ames,” he said without making eye contact.

The senior partner was reading a letter and he paid no attention to Daniel for a full minute. When Briggs finally signed his name and placed the letter in his out-box, he looked across his desk at the young associate with unforgiving eyes.

“Do you have any idea how much damage your incompetence has caused?”

Daniel knew that no answer was expected and he gave none.

“The partners met yesterday to discuss your situation,” Briggs continued. “It has been decided that you should no longer work for this firm.”

Though he had been expecting this, the words still stunned Daniel.

“You will be paid six months’ salary and you can keep your health insurance for a year. That’s very generous considering that your blunder could cost one of our best clients billions of dollars.”

He’d been fired. At first Daniel felt shame, then his shame turned to anger and he stiffened.

“This is a crock and you know it, Mr. Briggs.” His sharp words startled Daniel as much as they amazed Briggs. “You’re firing me because you need a scapegoat now that Aaron Flynn knows about the Kaidanov study. But finding out about that study might help Reed, Briggs avoid aiding and abetting a client this firm should stop representing.”

Briggs leaned back is his chair and made a steeple of his fingers but said nothing. Daniel pushed on.

“I think Geller Pharmaceuticals is covering up Kaidanov’s results. Did you know that the police are investigating an arson fire at a primate lab located on land owned by Geller? It’s where Kaidanov conducted his study. All of his monkeys are dead. And it looks like Kaidanov is dead, too—murdered. Quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

Daniel paused, but Briggs just continued to stare at him as if he were some mildly interesting insect. Briggs’s lack of reaction at hearing Geller linked to murder and arson surprised Daniel. But Briggs had made a fortune by perfecting a poker face, so Daniel forged on.

“Kaidanov has been missing for over a week. His home has been searched.” Daniel thought he saw Briggs twitch. “Mr. Briggs, I’ve examined Dr. Kaidanov’s hard drive. Someone tried to delete the primate study, but I’ve seen it.” Now he definitely had Briggs’s attention. “The results support the conclusions in Kaidanov’s letter. I think there’s a good possibility that Insufort is very dangerous and that someone connected to Geller tried to cover up Kaidanov’s report.”

“How do you know that Dr. Kaidanov’s home was searched?”

Daniel swallowed hard. “I went over there,” he said, suddenly remembering that searching the house and taking the hard drive were felonies.

“Is that where you examined Dr. Kaidanov’s hard drive?”

Daniel felt like a laser beam had pierced him and he appreciated the terror witnesses experienced during one of Briggs’s infamous cross-examinations.

“I’d rather not say,” he answered.

“Is that right.”

Daniel did not answer.

“Taking the Fifth, are we, Ames?” A terrible smile creased Briggs’s lips. Daniel felt trapped. “Obviously I can’t force you to answer my questions, but the police can. What do you think will happen if they discover that someone has stolen the hard drive from Dr. Kaidanov’s home computer and I tell them that you’ve confessed to me that you were at his house and examined the hard drive?”

“I . . . I was acting on behalf of our client.”

Even as he said the words Daniel knew that the excuse sounded pathetic.

“It’s good that you’ve remembered that there is an attorney/client relationship between you and Geller, even though you no longer work for this firm. If you know that, then you know that any information about Insufort on Dr. Kaidanov’s hard drive is the property of our client.”

Briggs’s smile disappeared. “I want the hard drive by five o’clock today, Ames.”

“Mr. Briggs . . .”

“If it’s not here by five, you will lose your health benefits, your severance pay, and you will be arrested. Is that clear?”

“What are you planning to do about Insufort?”

“My plans are none of your business since you no longer work for this firm.”

“But Insufort is hurting babies. Someone at Geller may have committed murder to cover up the truth. The firm could be an accessory to—”

Briggs stood suddenly. “This meeting is over,” he said, pointing toward the door. “Get out!”

Daniel hesitated, then walked to the door. As he crossed the room anger built in the pit of his stomach. He opened the door halfway, then turned and faced Briggs one more time.

“I’ve been scared and depressed about losing this job ever since the deposition, because working for Reed, Briggs really meant something to me. But maybe this is for the best. I don’t think I want to work for a firm that would cover up the crimes Geller is committing. We’re talking about little children, Mr. Briggs. I don’t know how you can look in the mirror.”

“You listen to me,” Briggs shouted. “If you breathe one word of what you’ve told me to anyone, you’ll be sued for slander and you will go to jail. How many people are going to hire a destitute, disbarred lawyer with a felony conviction? Now get the hell out!”

It wasn’t until Daniel slammed the door to Briggs’s office that he saw that he’d had an audience. Renee Gilchrist and a plain, middle-aged woman Daniel recognized as Dr. April Fairweather were both staring, openmouthed. Daniel’s anger turned to embarrassment. He mumbled an apology and rushed toward his office.

Daniel was almost there when it dawned on him that Kate had the hard drive. He was about to go to her office when he saw a security guard standing in front of his door. He hurried the rest of the way. As soon as the guard spotted Daniel, he blocked the entrance.

“I work here,” Daniel said. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ames,” the guard said firmly but politely, “but you can’t go in until we’re through.”

Daniel looked over the guard’s shoulder. A second guard was emptying his files into a box.

“What about my things, my personal items like my diplomas?”

“You can have them as soon as we’re through.” The guard held out his hand. “I’ll need your keys.”

Daniel was thoroughly humiliated. He wanted to fight, to protest, to scream that he had rights, but he knew that there was nothing he could do, so he meekly handed over his office keys.

“How much longer will this take? I’d like to get out of here.”

“We’ll be done soon,” the guard answered.

A crowd was starting to gather. Joe Molinari placed his hand on Daniel’s shoulder.

“What’s going on, Ames?”

“Briggs sacked me.”

“Ah, shit.”

“It wasn’t a surprise. I’ve seen this coming since the deposition.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Joe asked.

“Thanks, but it’s over. Briggs needed a scapegoat and I’m it.”

Molinari squeezed Daniel’s shoulder supportively.

“Look, I know people. I’m going to ask around. Maybe I can line up something for you.”

“I appreciate the offer, but who’s going to hire me? What kind of letter of recommendation do you think Briggs is going to write?”

“Don’t think like that. Briggs doesn’t control every law firm in Portland. You’re good, amigo. Any firm would be lucky to get you.”

“I don’t know if I want to keep practicing law, Joe.”

“Don’t be a defeatist asshole. This is like riding a polo pony. When you get thrown you don’t just lie on the ground feeling sorry for yourself. You get your ass back in the saddle and play on. I’ll give you a day to mope, then we’re going to figure out how to get you back working horrible hours and taking abuse from intellectual inferiors.”