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Department s research facility, I should say.
Yes, sir, of course. I meant, specifically, why had you come out this
morning?
I came out to check on some research. To see what condition the body the male
body up there tied to the tree was in by now. I explained how we had staged
the research subject, and why. I was doing the research for the Chattanooga
medical examiner, I said. Jess Dr. Jessamine Carter. I found her body when I
went up there to check on my research subject.
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So you recognized the victim? I nodded. You knew Dr. Carter personally?
Yes. We had worked together on several cases over the past few years. And we
were collaborating on a current case, involving a murder victim whose body was
found tied to a tree down near Chattanooga. That s the death scene we were
replicating here, so we could pinpoint the time since death more accurately
for Dr. Carter.
Did you see anybody else out here this morning when you arrived, either
inside the fence or out in the parking lot? I shook my head. Driving away
from the parking lot? Again I shook my head.
Was the gate open or closed when you got here?
I had to think for a moment; my arrival seemed a lifetime ago. It was open,
I said. That was the first thing out of the ordinary.
It s normally locked?
Yes, with two locks one on the chain-link gate, one on the wooden gate.
What else was unusual?
There was a note for me on the inner gate. I suddenly remembered it was in
my pocket. I reached for it, then caught myself before I touched it. I ll let
one of your evidence technicians get it out of my pocket and bag it. It s a
note from Dr. Carter. Or at least, supposedly from Dr. Carter. Saying, I m
inside. Come find me. It ll have my fingerprints on it, from when I pulled it
off the gate and read it. But maybe it ll have the prints of whoever put it
there, too.
He nodded, and drew a box around the word NOTE, with arrows pointing at each
corner of the box, for extra emphasis.
So when you found the note, what did you do?
I came inside and looked around, called Dr. Carter s name. I went down that
way first I pointed to the lower area, where Jess sometimes put bodies to
skeletonize and then I walked up that path leading to the research project.
And that s when I found her. Her corpse. Tied to the other one.
What did you do when you saw her?
Nothing, at first. I just stared. I couldn t process it; I couldn t think.
Finally I mean, it was probably only a minute or two, but it felt like
forever I called 911.
And after you made the call, what did you do? Did you approach the body? Did
you ever touch the body?
I shook my head. No. I know better than to disturb a death scene.
How close were you?
Six feet. Maybe eight or ten.
So how did you know she was dead?
I looked up at him; met his gaze for the first time, really. Detective, I ve
spent the past twenty-five years studying the dead. I ve seen corpses by the
hundreds. I recognize the vacant, clouded eyes. I know the difference between
shallow breath and no breath; between an unconscious person and a lifeless
body. I could feel my voice starting to rise, but it seemed to be someone
else s voice, not my own; a voice that was beyond my control. I know that
when blowflies are swarming around a woman s bloody corpse, crawling in and
out of her open mouth, I don t need to feel for a pulse to tell me that woman
is dead.
Evers s eyes were locked on mine in horror and fascination. In my peripheral
vision, I became aware of other eyes staring at me as well. I glanced toward
the gate and saw a dozen people looking in my direction, their expressions all
registering various degrees of shock. I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes
and forehead. I m sorry, I said. This is very upsetting.
I m sure it is, said Evers. No need to apologize. Listen, I need to go up
the hill to the scene. And we ll probably be tied up here most of the day. But
I d like to talk to you in more detail tomorrow, if you wouldn t mind. Get
more background on Dr. Carter, her colleagues, her activities. Okay?
Of course, I said. Anything I can do to help. What time do you want me
there?
Ten o clock? I nodded. All right. Thank you, Dr. Brockton. Take it easy
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today. You ve had quite a shock.
Yes, I have. Thank you. Do your best on this one.
He smiled broadly, flashing me a band of teeth so white they d have made a
great ad for Crest. I always do, Doc. I always do. Oh, one last thing. Sit
tight for just another minute and let me find a forensic tech to get that note
out of your pocket.
I stayed put, and he returned in a few minutes, accompanied by a forensic
technician clad in a white Tyvek biohazard suit from head to toe. The
technician used tweezers to pluck the note from my shirt pocket, then sealed
it in a ziplock evidence bag and labeled it. You know where to go tomorrow,
right? asked Evers. I nodded. Meantime, we ll try to keep a pretty tight lid
on this. We d appreciate it if you d help us with that. If you get media
calls, which you probably will, just refer them to us.
I will.
Evers stood up, which I took to be my cue to do likewise. He walked me to the
gate and raised the yellow and black tape for me so I didn t have to duck so
far. He turned to a uniformed officer who was posted just outside the gate,
holding a clipboard. I m not leaving, he said, but he is. This is Dr. Bill
Brockton of UT. Dr. Brockton was already inside when the scene was secured, so
he s not on your log yet. You need to add his name; put N/A as his sign-in
time; and sign him out at he checked his watch nine thirty-eight. The
officer nodded and obliged.
Twenty or more emergency vehicles, many with lights still strobing, jammed the
northeast corner of the parking lot. Some were tucked into parking spaces amid
the cars of hospital employees; others jammed the aisles between rows and
filled the strip of grass along the east edge of the lot. A hundred yards
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