Page 70 of Cold, Cold Bones
CH: We’ll talk.
TB: ?
TB: ?
What the hell?
16
Iwas staring at my iPhone when the landline rang.
“Dr. Brennan,” I answered by reflex, preoccupied with Charlie’s cryptic text.
“Bones are ready.” Hawkins.
That got my attention. “The hanging man?”
“Only ones I had boiling.”
“Where?”
“Room two.”
“Did you shoot pics?”
“Yup.”
“Thank you, Joe.”
Grabbing my mobile, I hurried from my office. Minutes later was re-garbed and back in an autopsy room.
A large Tupperware container sat on the table, one side marked with the case number MCME 224-22. I logged into the system, opened a file, and filled in what little data I had. Then I pried off the lid.
Hawkins might not be a talker, but the man was an ace at cleaning remains. The bones were now a glossy yellow-white and devoidof flesh. They lay neatly arranged, with the postcranial elements below, the skull and mandible resting on top, the latter in two pieces.
I spent about a half hour arranging what remained of Boldonado in anatomical order. Even before I began my detailed exam, I knew something was wrong. Still, I stuck to my normal protocol.
A skeletal inventory determined that all two hundred and six bones were present.
A bio-profile assessment confirmed my preliminary estimates for age, sex, ancestry, and height.
I started my trauma analysis with the skull, first using my naked eye, then an illuminated magnifying lens. Saw nothing noteworthy except for extensive tooth loss due to exceptionally poor dental hygiene. Boldonado was not a fan of regular check-ups.
Then, heart beating a little faster, I moved on to the jaw. The mandibular body had been fractured behind the canine on the left. The break was vertical and separated the jaw into two pieces. A hairline fracture was visible on the right segment, adjacent to the badly decayed second molar.
When I rotated the two pieces to view the broken surfaces straight on, each showed a “staircase” pattern, and each had beveled edges. I also noted what appeared to be a freshly fractured cusp on the right second molar. Both condyles exhibited pressure damage.
Crap.
I entered notes and shot close-ups from every angle.
Setting the jaw aside, I began with the postcranial skeleton, turning and scrutinizing every bone under the lens. Saw only arthritis and the healed fracture of the femoral neck. Until I began on the spine.
Each bone is a specialist. Different jobs, different shapes. That includes the vertebrae. The seven upper ones, the cervical, support the head and allow for neck mobility. The twelve in the chest, thethoracic, anchor the rib cage. The five in the lower back, the lumbar, create a curve to accommodate upright posture. The five in the pelvic girdle, the sacral, form the tailbone.
It was the sixth cervical that caused my heart to skip one of those accelerated beats.
But I oversimplify. The neck vertebrae do more than simply support the head. They also provide safe passage for arteries making their way to the brain. The arterial route involves a small hole, or foramen, in the transverse process, a tiny bone platform between the body of the vertebra and its arch.
