Beverly Connor - Dust to Dust

“Yes, they do,” said Diane. “You couldn’t have known, but in addition to being director of the museum, I’m also director of the crime lab here in Rosewood, Georgia, and those items will fall under our jurisdiction, at least until we sort out exactly where they came from.”

“Well, this is convenient, then. I called the right place,” Justin said.

“Yes, you did. I’ll also give you the name of a Rosewood police detective you can send a copy of the test results to. That way, your lab can be assured you followed proper protocol,” said Diane.

“Yes. Thank you. To tell you the truth, we ran the tests several times. The first time we thought it had to be an error.”

“I can see why it would give you pause,” said Diane. She fished in her purse and pulled out Detective Hanks’ card and read off his name and address.

Diane gave Justin her fax number so he could send her the report directly. She thanked him and put the phone back in its cradle.

“Okay,” she whispered, “that was odd.”

She picked up the phone and called Detective Hanks.

“I got an interesting call from a lab in Arizona,” she said.

“Oh? What about?” he asked.

She first explained to him about Marcella’s expertise in North American aboriginal pottery. Then she explained about the bone-tempered pottery of the late-prehistoric sites in Texas that Marcella had studied. She explained that Marcella had used a lab in Arizona to analyze protein antigens in the pottery samples to find out what species of animal contributed their bone to the pottery. She debated whether to explain why archaeologists wanted that data, but decided that would be too much information.

“She sent them some pottery sherds she found in Georgia. I’m assuming at her place, but the lab didn’t know specifically where the sherds were found. When they ran their test, it came up with human antigens,” she said.

Just as she had, Hanks remained quiet for a long moment. She assumed he was trying to figure how the heck to process that bit of information.

“She sent them pieces of broken pots that had human bone crushed up in them? Who would do that?” he asked.

“Pottery made in the late-prehistoric period had a tempering substance added to the clay to keep air bubbles out and keep it from breaking while it was being fired. The additive was usually grit, fiber, shells-stuff like that. Some peoples in Texas used animal bone. Marcella apparently found some pottery sherds in her yard and recognized from their appearance that they were bone tempered. Her daughter said that whoever the artist was who lived in the house at one time was a potter, according to Marcella, and used methods similar to the ones used by prehistoric Indians.” Diane was wondering if she was making any sense at all to Hanks.

“Okay, this is now officially the weirdest case I’ve ever worked on. I confess, I don’t know what to make of this new information. Were the pots made by the person who lived in the house immediately before Dr. Payden?”

“I don’t think so. The potter’s shed had fallen into disuse. But I don’t know how long the house sat empty, or the line of ownership of the house, or who lived there before Marcella.”

“I can get ownership records from the county courthouse,” he said. “We can probably track down some answers about who lived there when. But does this new stuff help us in any way?”

“I have no idea,” said Diane. “It doesn’t appear that any pottery was made there in recent years before Marcella moved in. It would seem to be too long ago to be involved in what happened to Marcella, but who knows? At any rate, I asked Justin Ambrogi at Archaeo-Labs in Arizona to send you the report. He also faxed a copy to the museum.”

“The museum?” said Hanks.

“Yes, Marcella works for us doing pottery sherd analysis.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. What a twisted case this is. I’m inclined to think this bone pottery thing, although an odd thing for sure, is not related to her attack. But like you said, who knows? We may be looking for a frustrated artist. A mad potter.”

Diane laughed. “Perhaps,” she said.

She hung up the phone and stood thinking for a moment. It was a bit of information she didn’t know where to put. After a moment, Andie stuck her head in and said good-bye.

“Bye, Andie. See you tomorrow.”

Diane gathered her things together and started for the crime lab, hoping her crew would be there and not out somewhere working on a murder. Halfway there, she got an idea and took the elevator down to the basement where the DNA lab was located.

Jin was there. So were the twins, Hector and Scott Spearman. They were dressed in jeans and pin-striped shirts with pointed collar flaps open at the neck, revealing gold chains. Hector’s shirt was yellow and Scott’s was green. She knew it was Hector because Hector was the older twin and he always wore a shirt color with a higher wavelength than Scott.

Hector and Scott started talking immediately. They always appeared as if they were never let out of the lab and had to jump at any opportunity to talk with anyone other than Jin.

“Hello, Dr. Fallon,” said Scott. “We were just discussing…”

“The merits of using junk DNA…,” said Hector.

“For ancestry testing,” said Scott.

When they were excited they spoke in that alternating way. She thought she might actually get dizzy listening to them, moving her head from one to the other. She understood how it might drive Jin crazy on occasion. They expounded on the disadvantages of using particular strands of DNA often referred to as “junk” because they no longer seemed to serve an active purpose.

“I’m sure Dr. Fallon didn’t come down here for that,” said Jin. “What’s up, Boss?”

“I was wondering if you could analyze the DNA in pieces of pottery,” said Diane.

That stopped the three of them. They stood for several moments just staring at her with completely blank expressions.

Finally Hector spoke. “It has to be something that was alive.”

Diane laughed. “I’m sorry, I started in the middle of a thought.” She laughed again. “The pieces of pottery were tempered with human bone.”

“Who would do that?” said Jin.

“And why?” asked Scott.

Diane gave a minilecture on what little she knew of pottery making, similar to the spiel she gave Hanks.

“I honestly don’t know why the aboriginal inhabitants in Texas used bone for tempering. Nor do I know why the person who once inhabited Marcella’s house did. But do you think you could get any usable DNA out of it?” asked Diane.

“The firing would have destroyed any DNA,” said Jin.

“They were fired in a bonfire kiln, which has a much lower temperature than a regular kiln,” she said. “I know it’s still a high temperature, but I was just wondering.”

“You know,” said Scott, “if the bases of the pots were thick-wouldn’t they have to be thicker than the sides?” He shrugged. “Anyway, if we could find some very thick pieces that just happened to be at a place in the fire where the temperature was lower… like sitting on the ground… I’m just thinking here.”

“Yes,” said Hector, “perhaps the thick pieces might contain some strands that survived. Of course we would have…”

“To use Jin’s protocol for shed hair,” said Scott.

They looked at Jin.

“What do you think?” Diane asked Jin.

“It never hurts to try, but I don’t really hold out any hope. But we may get a paper out of it.” He grinned. So did Hector and Scott.

“I’ll send you some samples,” said Diane. “Thank you.”

“By the way,” said Jin, “I’ve done some analysis on our evidence. That large stain on the floor near the table was a combination of urine and feces, just as you said. Probably the spot where she died.”