Aaron Elkins - The Dark Place

"And," Pringle said, finally raising his eyes to Gideon’s face, "all they’d taken was a couple of hard-boiled eggs. The woman still had them in her hand."

All three of the terrified Indians who were flattened against Herb Pringle’s cabin were scrawny and dressed in rags or in the old clothes they’d gotten from inside. Except for the saw blade, they’d taken nothing but clothing. They’d left the food untouched because it was all in cans and they probably didn’t know how to get at it or what it was.

The old man shoved the woman forward and she made motions as if she were nursing a baby. Then she fell on her face on the ground and just lay there crying. Herb indicated with gestures that they could keep their pitiful loot and offered them the squirrels as well, but they were afraid to come and take them. They were afraid to leave, too, and just cowered there, so Herb had to send them on their way by shouting and waving his arms to frighten them off.

"Did they say anything that you remember?" Gideon asked.

"Oh, yes, there was a bit of jabbering when I waved at them. The woman kept crying and shouting, ’cara!’ -like the Italian word-and all three of them were yelling, ’sin-yah!’ or some such."

Gideon took a small notebook from his pocket and jotted it down. "That’s quite a story, Mr. Pringle."

"Oh, there’s more," Pringle said.

They had finally run off, the little boy scrabbling sideways like a crab. Herb never saw them again, but when he went up to the cabin one weekend in the fall of that year, he saw that someone had been in it again. He was a little put out, feeling that he had dealt fairly with the Indians.

When he went in he saw that nothing had been taken. Instead, two Indian baskets had been left on the floor in front of the fireplace.

A large yellow tear ran crookedly down Pringle’s face. "Another problem with getting old," he said. "You cry awfully easily." He sipped his tea and smiled wanly. "I haven’t thought about those Indians in a very long time. It is a nice story, isn’t it?"

Nice, yes, but was it any more than a story? Pringle was very old, and he was talking about a time sixty-nine years ago. "I don’t imagine you still have the baskets?" he said.

"Oh, yes, surely. " Pringle was peaceably offended. "They were gifts. I wouldn’t give anything like that away. They’re the ones on the top shelf of the case to the left."

Gideon went into the living room and looked at the baskets. They were similar to the ones from the graveyard. He made a quick sketch of the decorations: black rectangles arranged like steps and running from top to bottom in diagonal rows.

He came back frowning. "I’ve seen baskets like those before, Mr. Pringle. From what I understand, the local Indians don’t make them."

"No, that’s right. I had another fellow come out to look at them, oh, seven or eight years ago-fellow named Blackpath-"

"Dennis Blackpath? An anthropology student doing research?"

"Yes, I believe he was. He said they were California baskets. I forget the name of the tribe. He said they must have been traded for."

Traded for? With whom? How could a tiny, isolated, starving band of Indians trade with people who lived hundreds of miles away, beyond several formidable mountain ranges? Still, it wasn’t impossible. He made a mental note to look in American Doctoral Dissertations the next time he was at the Cal library to see if Blackpath had ever written that dissertation. Maybe he wasn’t the crackpot Julie said he’d been.

Standing, Gideon finished his tea. "Mr. Pringle, I’d like to thank you for your hospitality. You have a fine collection."

"Oh, I’ve enjoyed talking with you," Pringle said, and looked as if he had. A tinge of pink was visible through the gray of his cheeks. "Are you sure you wouldn’t like another cup of tea? I’m afraid I don’t have anything sweet to go with it right now, but I’m sure I could locate some toast and a little jam." He said this with an air of courteous bewilderment, as if there were usually piles of sweets, and if Gideon had arrived an hour earlier or later the table would have been overflowing with cookies and pastries.

"No, thanks," Gideon said, "I really have to go. Let me pour yours, though."

"Why, thank you. Thank you very much." He reached for the tin, then stopped, his hand in the air. "That last tea bag was rather strong, don’t you think? I’ll just see," he said lightly, "if we can’t get another cup out of it."

Gideon’s eyes were irritated. The Formalin, no doubt; he should have gone to an office somewhere to type, instead of using the old portable in the workroom. He rubbed his eyes gently, stretched, pulled the sheet from the typewriter, and set the completed report on the table in front of him.

To: Julian Minor, Special Agent, FBI

From: Gideon P. Oliver

Subject: Examination of skeletal remains found in Pyrites Creek, Olympic National Park, conducted September 14, 1982

Summary

The skeletal remains presented to me appear to be those of a Caucasoid female of 18 years. Living stature was 5’ 51/2" to 5’ 91/2", with a most likely height of 5’ 71/2". Weight was 120 to 130 lbs. Time of death was approximately two weeks ago. Cause of death is unknown. A detailed analysis follows.

Preliminary Treatment

Preliminary examination in your presence revealed an unclothed partial human body with considerable decomposed soft tissue present. The bones were cleaned of soft tissue, and segments of skin and muscle from both buttocks and the right lateral and posterior thigh were preserved in a 10% Formalin solution.

Bones Present

The partial skeleton consists of the pelvic girdle, including both pelves, the sacrum, and the fifth lumbar vertebra. The coccyx is not present. In addition, the proximal three inches of the right femur, extending to the distal end of the lesser trochanter, are present.

Condition

Exposed edges of bone show heavy abrasion, probably from contacts with rocks in the creek. The right acetabulum is perforated, apparently post-mortem, probably as a result of buffeting by the head of the femur, caused by the fast-moving water of the depositional environment. The break in the femur is splintered and abraded.

Pathological Conditions, Antemortem Trauma, Anomalies

None noted.

Sex

The angles of the sciatic notches and the subpubic angle indicate that the skeleton is that of a female. The diameter of the head of the femur (41mm.) supports this view.

Age

The aging criteria for female skeletons of Gilbert and McKern were applied to the pubic symphysis and indicate an age of no less than 14 and no more than 18. The complete fusion of the proximal femoral epiphyses, and of the pubis and ischium, and the complete ossification of the acetabulum indicates an age of 17+. The most probable age is therefore 18.

Race

Whereas the pelvis provides accurate skeletal evidence of sex and age, its bones are among the least reliable in determining race. However, interspinous and interiliac diameters were measured (22.2mm. and 26.6mm., respectively) and make it possible to draw tentative conclusions in regard at least to the three major racial groupings: The skeleton is most probably that of a Caucasoid, but possibly that of a Mongoloid. The wide diameters, and also the lower symphysis of this pelvis, make it unlikely that the skeleton is that of a Negroid.

Stature

Determination of height is problematical, inasmuch as the pelvis and vertebrae are of no help, the single lumbar vertebra is unreliable, and long bone representation is limited to the proximal end of the femur. Nevertheless, height was estimated by applying Steele’s regression formulae. The resulting estimate of height is 169 cm. +/- 5 cm. or 5’ 71/2" +/-1.97".