“Bones always have a story to tell,” the doc says to me.
“I suspect the owner of these particular bones didn’t have a happy ending.”
*
It takes nearly three hours for the forensic anthropologist to arrive. I used the time to start documenting the scene, taking several dozen photographs, including close-ups of the bones and the scraps of plastic, as well as the surrounding ground. I also walked the immediate area, looking for anything that might offer an explanation for the bones or for additional bones scattered by animals. I’m sipping a bottle of water one of the Boy Scouts brought over to me, when Tomasetti’s Tahoe, a Holmes County Sheriff’s Department cruiser, and a silver Prius pull in and park in the weeds a prudent distance from the scene.
Doc is sitting in his Escalade, talking on his smartphone. A Holmes County deputy and I are standing near my Explorer, exchanging theories and getting sunburned. Two men I don’t recognize get out of the Prius. Sheriff Mike Rasmussen is the driver of the sheriff’s department cruiser. The four men approach.
“I heard someone found some bones out here,” the sheriff says.
I give his hand a firm shake. “A couple of Boy Scouts found a skull while they were cleaning up.”
“Hope they weren’t too traumatized.”
“More intrigued, I think.”
“Dead bodies always make for good ghost stories.”
Tomasetti reaches us, looking at me a little too intently. “Chief.”
I feel a little conspicuous going through the formality of a handshake; we share the same bed every night, and I’m pretty sure Rasmussen knows we’re living together. For the sake of professional decorum, we go through the motions, anyway. “Hi, John.”
He turns to the forty-something man at his side. “This is Lyle Stevitch, the forensic anthropologist from Lucas County I told you about.”
Stevitch sticks out his hand. “Don’t believe a word he told you,” he says with a smile.
He’s a studious-looking man with wire-rimmed glasses and a precision goatee that conjures images of Burl Ives. He looks more like a college professor than a forensic anthropologist, but already his eyes are drifting past me toward the caution tape, and I know he’s anxious to get started.
“Thanks for coming,” I say.
He introduces the young man at his side. “This is Tyler Hochheim. He’s a student at Mercyhurst in Erie and interning with me for the summer.”
Wearing a wool beanie over shoulder-length hair tied into a ponytail at his nape, Hochheim looks more like a member of the Occupy Wall Street movement than the assistant of a renowned forensic anthropologist. He’s carrying a large canvas bag in one hand, a large toolbox in the other.
Doc Coblentz joins us. Once introductions are made, we start toward the scene, with Doc outlining everything we’ve discovered so far. “There aren’t enough bones for a full skeleton, so I suspect some may have been carried away by scavengers over the years.”
“Or else they’re buried,” I add.
Rasmussen, Tomasetti, and I exchange looks, and I know they’re thinking the same thing I am. Or the deceased was dismembered elsewhere, his body dumped in several locations …
Hands on his hips, Stevitch looks out over the scene, giving a decisive nod. “Let’s set up a grid, and then we’ll begin by collecting everything we find on the surface. Once everything is bagged and labeled and photographed, we’ll begin the excavation.” He addresses Tyler. “We’re going to need soil samples and a thorough sweep with the metal detector, too.”
“Okay.” His assistant steps outside the taped-off scene and sets the bag on the ground. He removes full-body biohazard suits with zippered fronts and passes one to Stevitch. Tyler then spreads a crisp blue sheet on the ground and begins setting out the tools of his trade: a smaller folding shovel, several different types of brushes ranging in size from a makeup brush to a paintbrush, another tool that looks like a stainless-steel trowel, several picks and chisels of different sizes, a dozen or more plastic containers with sealing lids. He then wraps a tool belt of sorts around his waist. Once he’s suited up, he goes back to the canvas bag, pulls out several plastic stakes, a hammer, and a roll of twine and proceeds to mark off a perimeter of the area in which they’ll be working.
The process seems oddly unscientific in light of the fact that they’re excavating human remains. Tomasetti has assured me Stevitch is good at what he does, and I know the real work will begin once they get everything to the laboratory.