“Well, basically, both hands and feet are missing,” Doc Coblentz says.
I’ve heard of cases—homicides—in which killers removed the hands of their victims so the police were unable to identify the victims using fingerprints, but I didn’t expect it on this case. “So we’re dealing with a homicide,” I say slowly.
“Probably, but we can’t say for certain,” Harris says.
“But if the hands were cut off—” I begin.
Coblentz interrupts. “Not cut off, Kate. Chewed off.”
“Chewed?” It’s the last thing I expected him to say, and for the first time I understand why they’re so titillated. Not because they’re macabre, but because their scientific minds have been confronted by a particularly challenging puzzle.
“By what?” I ask.
“We don’t know,” Doc Coblentz admits. “We’re trying to identify the tooth marks now.”
“Tooth marks? Seriously?” Incredulity rings hard in my voice. If the circumstances were different—if we weren’t dealing with the death of a human being—I’d expect one of them to burst into laughter and shout, “Surprise!”
“Let me explain.” With gloved hands, Harris picks up a bone that’s slender and curved and about a foot in length. “This is the left proximal ulna, which is at the distal end of the forearm.”
“Small bone in the lower forearm,” Doc Coblentz explains.
“It’s not unusual in cases like this for skeletal remains to exhibit postmortem carnivore and scavenger marks. In Ohio, for example, we would probably be dealing with coyotes or dogs or even a feral cat. The bones would show evidence of chewing, crushing, and gnawing. Sometimes the ends of long bones are missing altogether, which happens when the animals are trying to get to the marrow. This typically occurs if a body is dumped in a remote location and it remains undiscovered for an extended period of time.”
Looking troubled, Harris indicates a long, narrow, carved indentation on the bone. “I can’t be certain, but I don’t believe these gouges were made by dogs or coyotes.”
“By what, then?” I ask.
“We don’t know,” Doc Coblentz replies.
I think about that a moment, chilled by the possibilities. “Were you or will you be able to give me cause or manner of death?”
“Undetermined at this point,” Harris says with a shrug.
“I’m not sure we’ll ever know for certain, Kate,” Doc Coblentz adds.
“No clothes or shoes. Hands missing. Chances are the body was disposed in a garbage bag and hidden in that crawl space.” I look from man to man. “It’s got to be homicide. But we need to be able to prove it, and we can’t do that without an official ruling from you.”
“We can only go by the facts,” Harris tells me. “These bones are not going to reveal their secrets easily.”
“So what’s your theory?” I ask.
Coblentz nods at Harris. “John?”
“Let me preface by giving you some preliminary info on how we’ve arrived at this non-conclusion, if you will,” Harris begins. “Typically, we have three types of bone injury: antemortem, which is an injury that takes place when the decedent is still alive. We can tell the injury occurred before death because there’s some level of bone remodeling or healing. The second type of injury is postmortem, which takes place after death. In the instance of a postmortem bone injury, the edges of the bone will be rough or worn, if you will. And, of course, there’s no remodeling.
“The third type of bone injury is perimortem. As with the postmortem bone injury, there is no bone remodeling. But with a perimortem injury, the edges of the damaged area are relatively sharp and crisp.” Dr. Harris removes his glasses and looks at me. “We believe the injuries on the distal area of the ulna, as well as the lower extremities of both fibulas, occurred perimortem.”
“You’re going to have to explain that in English.” But even as I say the words, in some small corner of my mind I already know, and a shiver hovers between my shoulder blades.
“The injury occurred at or near the time of death,” Doc Coblentz tells me.
I stare at the two men, trying to get my mind around the repercussions of that. “Let me get this straight,” I say. “The bone injuries you’re referring to are tooth marks?”
“Correct,” Harris says.
Coblentz meets my gaze. “These tooth marks, carved into those three large bones, occurred shortly before or shortly after death.”
“Are you telling me this individual may have died because of those tooth marks?” I ask.
“I’m telling you it’s a possibility,” Harris says.
I look down at the bones, and the chill that had been hovering moves through me. “So this decedent could have been attacked by an animal and killed?”
“An animal or animals as yet unidentified,” Harris tells me.