Page 18 of The Bone Code

“Walter Klopp.” Doing that two-finger salute thing some men find cool. “Walt.”

“Tempe,” I said, pleased that Klopp hadn’t offered to shake.

Klopp turned toward the woman. “Detective Vislosky is with the Charleston PD.”

Vislosky nodded.

I nodded.

“Just finished a medical autopsy.” Did Klopp feel compelled to explain his untidy scrubs? “A capno case.”

I must have looked confused.

“Capnocytophaga.” Klopp chin-cocked the screen he’d been viewing. “Have a look. You don’t see it every day.”

Curious, I crossed to him.

The image showed a corpse on a table identical to the pair behind us. Its trunk and skull gaped empty. Its organs lay divided between a hanging scale and a cork cutting board.

“The poor bastard was infected by his own cockapoo.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant but was clear on one thing. The poor bastard had met a most unpleasant end. One leg, amputated at the knee, showed surgical scarring but little healing on the stump. The surviving foot and every finger were black as creosote. Scaly patches covered the man’s forehead, lips, and cheeks, and a yawning triangle was all that remained of his nose.

I made a note to myself to read up on capno. And to avoid it. Cockapoos?

“Let’s start with externals on both.” Klopp spoke to Brian, indicating Herrin’s container victims. “Get an overall sense of the situation.”

Vislosky watched as Brian, Klopp, and I gloved and masked. Added aprons and goggles for extra protection.

When we were ready, Klopp gave a thumbs-up.

Upon arrival at the morgue, each victim had been assigned a case number indicating that the autopsy was forensic in nature. Brian started with the body bag showing the larger bulge, AF21-986. Thewhrrrpof the zipper sounded like a scream in the silence.

He crossed to AF21-987.

Another scream.

Vislosky kept her distance.

I stepped close.

5

Thursday, October 7

It was déjà vu.

Same sky-blue polyethylene sheeting. Same poppy-red electrical wire. Same parrot-green Chlorophyta algae. Same stone-gray polypropylene bin bearing a faded orange label.

Same multicolored skull.

A rainbow déjà vu.

After stumbling upon the container and prying it open, the kayakers had put some effort into tugging at the plastic sheet wrapping the uppermost body. Herrin had cut some wire and a bit more plastic to confirm that the body was human. And the ocean had taken its toll.

Klopp directed Brian to further unwrap the skull of AF21-986 as much as possible without cutting. His efforts exposed half the face. The orbits stared empty and wide, as though startled at the sudden exposure to light.

Below the head, hints of algae-coated bone could be seen through tears in the plastic. A toothless section of mandible. Three proximal phalanges truncated at mid-shaft. A slimy pelvic rim.