“Ah, yes, yes! My apologies. Morwood did mention your background. I’m used to working alone, but I could always use some help. Delighted, perfectly delighted.”

He seemed anything but delighted.

Corrie reminded herself that, even though as a special agent she outranked Lathrop, he was a veteran of the Albuquerque office, and she was a rookie … and one who had recently fucked up. It would not do to get into a pissing contest with him about who was in charge, especially given Morwood’s warning.

“Well, this is a delicious little problem, isn’t it?” Lathrop rubbed his hands together and smacked his lips, as if about to commence a meal, as he circled the gurney with the body. He was, she felt, genuinely fascinated: he was no burned-out case going through the motions.

“Let’s get to work,” he said. “I’ll start on the body while you examine the artifactual evidence.”

“My specialty,” Corrie said, trying to muster some authority in her voice without sounding bitchy, “was biological anthropology. Perhaps it would be appropriate if I worked on the actual human remains, as well?”

Lathrop frowned. “I suppose so.”

“But first,” Corrie said, “would you suggest we look at the X-rays?”

“Naturally.” Lathrop turned on the flat-panel screen and, tapping away at a keyboard, called up the X-rays. A silence settled in the room as they examined the images, grid by grid, starting with the skull. Corrie had wanted to do a CT scan, but Morwood had vetoed it because of the expense and the fact that there was as yet no official case.

“No dental work,” said Lathrop. “Thus no dental records to help with identification. Pity.”

Corrie tried to focus on the images. In her forensic training, she had been dismayed at how easily you could miss something that became glaringly obvious when it was pointed out. She was determined not to overlook anything Lathrop might notice, primarily because she didn’t want him lording it over her.

“Look at that,” Corrie said. “Isn’t that a faint closed fracture in the frontal bone, and another in the sphenoid?”

“I see them,” said Lathrop, manipulating the images to magnify and increase contrast. “Yes, indeed: very faint but distinct.”

They moved on down the body.

“And here, too,” Corrie said, pointing to a rib. “Another small fracture.”

Lathrop peered in and magnified it.

“I see no sign of the formation of a fibrocartilaginous callus,” said Corrie. “Seems to have occurred perimortem.”

Lathrop grunted his assent.

“Look, another one,” said Corrie. “And another. Anterior four, five, and six. Do you see?”

No sound from Lathrop.

“All these fractures are anterior,” Corrie said, excited despite herself. “And perimortem. Looks like maybe he had a fall right before his death. What do you think?”

“Shall we wait for the physical examination before drawing conclusions?” said Lathrop, lips pursed, a sarcastic prickliness in his voice.

Corrie swallowed hard and pushed down on her irritation.

After completing the X-ray examination in silence, Lathrop turned to Corrie. “Let me show you how to set up the video recorder,” he said, “for the gross examination.”

This is better, Corrie thought. She watched as he turned on the video system and tested it, memorizing the process.

“Now we start work,” said Lathrop. “We both speak the date, time, and location, and give our names and titles. And then, as we work, we say out loud what it is that we’re doing. Are you clear on that, young lady, or would you like me to repeat?”

“I’m clear.” She had practiced all this many times in her pathology classes at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice. Only at John Jay they had better equipment.

They started working on the body, one on each side. Lathrop began cutting off the duster while Corrie helped, snipping up one sleeve and down the front, so it could be removed in pieces without disturbing the brittle body. The duster was then folded up in an evidence container and sealed.

“A brown stain is noted,” said Lathrop, “on the front of the shirt. There is more staining around the nose. It would appear the subject had a severe nosebleed not long before death.”

Corrie was about to say that was more evidence of a fall but decided to refrain from commenting. She kept silent and let Lathrop do most of the talking for the tape recorder. After examining and photographing the bloodstains, they cut off the shirt, undershirt, and pants, again sealing them up in evidence containers. The boots were tricky, having shrunk and warped, and they had to be snipped off with great care. Even then, a piece of foot broke off, adhering to the boot, and had to be teased away from the leather.

Corrie was secretly hoping to find more treasure hidden in the clothes, a wallet or some sort of ID, but nothing came to light beyond some small change in the man’s pocket. She removed the coins and laid them out: two quarters, five nickels, and four pennies. Lathrop went to put them in a container, but Corrie spoke.

“Shall we get the dates?”

Lathrop paused while Corrie sorted through the coins and jotted down the dates, which ranged from 1922 to 1945. That latter date was on an almost uncirculated penny, which she thought significant.

“Looks like a terminus post quem of 1945,” said Lathrop, examining the penny with a loupe.