cpatricia.unnaturalexposure-第19节

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　'You　know　what；　Doc？'　he　said。　'The　problem　is　you　hate　to　have　fun。'
　I　got　the　morning　paper　out　of　my　briefcase；　shook　it　open。
　He　sat　next　to　me。　'I'll　bet　you've　never　even　listened　to　Elvis。'
　'How　could　I　not　listen　to　Elvis？　He's　on　the　radio；　on　TV；　in　elevators。'
　'He's　the　king。'
　I　eyed　Marino　over　the　top　of　the　paper。
　'His　voice；　everything　about　him。　There's　never　been　anyone　like　him；'　Marino　went　on　as　if　he　had　a　crush。　'I　mean；　it's　like　classical　music　and　those　painters　you　like　so　much。　I　think　people　like　that　only　e　along　every　couple　hundred　years。'
　'So　now　you're　paring　him　with　Mozart　and　Monet。'　I　turned　a　page；　bored　with　local　politics　and　business。
　'Sometimes　you're　a　friggin'　snob。'　He　got　up；　grumpy。　'And　maybe　just　once　in　your　life　you　might　think　of　going　some　place　I　want　to　go。　You　ever　seen　me　bowl？'　He　glared　down　at　me；　getting　out　his　cigarettes。　'You　ever　said　anything　nice　about　my　truck？　You　ever　gone　fishing　with　me？　You　ever　eat　at　my　house？　No；　I　gotta　go　to　yours　because　you　live　in　the　right　part　of　town。'
　'You　cook　for　me；　I'll　e　over；'　I　said　as　I　read。
　He　angrily　stalked　off；　and　I　could　feel　the　eyes　of　strangers　on　us。　I　supposed　they　assumed　that　Marino　and　I　were　an　item；　and　had　not　gotten　along　in　years。　Smiling　to　myself；　I　turned　a　page。　Not　only　would　I　go　to　Graceland　with　him；　I　planned　to　buy　him　barbecue　tonight。
　Since　it　seemed　that　one　could　not　fly　direct　from　Richmond　to　anywhere　except　Charlotte；　we　were　routed　to　Cincinnati　first；　where　we　changed　planes。　We　arrived　in　Memphis　by　noon　and　checked　into　the　Peabody　Hotel。　I　had　gotten　us　a　government　rate　of　seventy…three　dollars　per　night；　and　Marino　looked　around；　gawking　at　a　grand　lobby　of　stained　glass　and　a　fountain　of　mallard　ducks。
　'Holy　shit；'　he　said。　'I've　never　seen　a　joint　that　has　live　ducks。　They're　everywhere。'
　We　were　walking　into　the　restaurant；　which　was　appropriately　named　Mallards；　and　displayed　behind　glass　were　duck　objets　d'art。　There　were　paintings　of　ducks　on　walls；　and　ducks　were　on　the　staff's　green　vests　and　ties。
　'They　have　a　duck　palace　on　the　roof；'　I　said。　'And　roll　out　a　red　carpet　for　them　twice　a　day　when　they　e　and　go　to　John　Philip　Sousa。'
　'No　way。'
　I　told　the　hostess　that　we　would　like　a　table　for　two。　'In　nonsmoking；'　I　added。
　The　restaurant　was　crowded　with　men　and　women　wearing　big　name　tags　for　some　real　estate　convention　they　were　attending　at　the　hotel。　We　sat　so　close　to　other　people　that　I　could　read　reports　they　were　perusing　and　hear　their　affairs。　I　ordered　a　fresh　fruit　plate　and　coffee；　while　Marino　got　his　usual　grilled　hamburger　platter。
　'Medium　rare；'　he　told　the　waiter。
　'Medium。'　I　gave　Marino　a　look。
　'Yeah；　yeah；　okay。'　He　shrugged。
　'Enterohemorrhagic　E。　coli；'　I　said　to　him　as　the　waiter　walked　off。　'Trust　me。　Not　worth　it。'
　'Don't　you　ever　want　to　do　things　bad　for　you？'　he　said。
　He　looked　depressed　and　suddenly　old　as　he　sat　across　from　me　in　this　beautiful　place　where　people　were　well　dressed　and　better　paid　than　a　police　captain　from　Richmond。　Marino's　hair　had　thinned　to　an　unruly　fringe　circling　the　top　of　his　ears　like　a　tarnished　silver　halo　shoved　low。　He　had　not　lost　an　ounce　since　I　had　known　him；　his　belly　rising　from　his　belt　and　touching　the　edge　of　the　table。　Not　a　day　went　by　that　I　did　not　fear　for　him。　I　could　not　imagine　his　not　working　with　me　forever。
　At　half　past　one；　we　left　the　hotel　in　the　rental　car。　He　drove　because　he　would　never　have　it　any　other　way；　and　we　got　on　Madison　Avenue　and　followed　it　east；　away　from　the　Mississippi　River。　The　brick　university　was　so　close　we　could　have　walked　it；　the　Regional　Forensic　Center　across　the　street　from　a　tire　store　and　the　Life　Blood　Donor　Center。　Marino　parked　in　back；　near　the　public　entrance　of　the　medical　examiner's　office。
　The　facility　was　funded　by　the　county　and　about　the　size　of　my　central　district　office　in　Richmond。　There　were　three　forensic　pathologists；　and　also　two　forensic　anthropologists；　which　was　very　unusual　and　enviable；　for　I　would　have　loved　to　have　someone　like　Dr　David　Canter　on　my　staff。　Memphis　had　yet　another　distinction　which　was　decidedly　not　a　happy　one。　The　chief　had　been　involved　in　perhaps　two　of　the　most　infamous　cases　in　the　country。　He　had　performed　the　autopsy　of　Martin　Luther　King　and　had　witnessed　the　one　of　Elvis。
　'If　it's　all　the　same　to　you；'　Marino　said　as　we　got　out　of　the　car；　'I　think　I'll　make　phone　calls　while　you　do　your　thing。'
　'Fine。　I'm　sure　they　can　find　an　office　for　you　to　use。'
　He　squinted　up　at　an　autumn　blue　sky；　then　looked　around　as　we　walked。　'I　can't　believe　I'm　here；'　he　said。　'This　is　where　he　was　posted。'
　'No；'　I　said；　because　I　knew　exactly　who　he　was　talking　about。　'Elvis　Presley　was　posted　at　Baptist　Memorial　Hospital。　He　never　came　here；　even　though　he　should　have。'
　'How　e？'
　'He　was　treated　like　a　natural　death；'　I　replied。
　'Well；　he　was。　He　died　of　a　heart　attack。'
　'It's　true　his　heart　was　terrible；'　I　said。　'But　that's　not　what　killed　him。　His　death　was　due　to　his　polydrug　abuse。'
　'His　death　was　due　to　Colonel　Parker；'　Marino　muttered　as　if　he　wanted　to　kill　the　man。　
　I　glanced　at　him　as　we　entered　the　office。　'Elvis　had　ten　drugs　on　board。　He　should　have　been　signed　out　an　accident。　It's　sad。'
　'And　we　know　it　was　really　him；'　he　then　said。
　'Oh　for　God's　sake；　Marino！'
　'What？　You've　seen　the　photos？　You　know　it　for　a　fact？'　he　went　on。
　'I've　seen　them。　And　yes；　I　know；'　I　said　as　I　stopped　at　the　receptionist's　desk。
　'Then　what's　in　them。'　He　would　not　stop。
　A　young　woman　named　Shirley；　who　had　taken　care　of　me　before；　waited　for　Marino　and　me　to　quit　disagreeing。
　'That　is　none　of　your　business；'　I　sweetly　said　to　him。　'Shirley；　how　are　you？'
　'Back　again？'　She　smiled。
　'With　no　good　news；　I'm　sorry　to　say；'　I　replied。
　Marino　began　trimming　his　fingernails　with　a　pocketknife；　glancing　around　like　Elvis　might　walk　in　any　minute。
　'Dr　Canter's　expecting　you；'　she　said。　'e　on。　I'll　take　you　back。'
　
　While　Marino　ambled　off　to　make　phone　calls　somewhere　down　the　hall；　I　was　shown　into　the　modest　office　of　a　man　I　had　known　since　his　residency　days　at　the　University　of　Tennessee。　Canter　had　been　as　young　as　Lucy　when　I　had　met　him　for　the　first　time。
　A　devotee　of　forensic　anthropologist　Dr　Bass；　who　had　begun　the　decay　research　facility　in　Knoxville　known　as　The　Body　Farm；　Canter　had　been　mentored　by　most　of　the　greats。　He　was　considered　the　world's　foremost　expert　in　saw　marks；　and　I　wasn't　quite　sure　what　it　was　about　this　state　famous　for　the　Vols　and　Daniel　Boone。　Tennessee　seemed　to　corner　the　market　on　experts　in　time　of　death　and　human　bones。
　'Kay。'　Canter　rose；　extending　his　hand。
　'Dave；　you're　always　so　good　to　see　me　on　such　short　notice。'　I　took　a　chair　across　from　his　desk。
　'Well；　I　hate　what　you're　going　through。'
　He　had　dark　hair　bed　straight　back　from　his　brow；　so　that　whenever　he　looked　down　it　fell　in　his　way。　He　was　constantly　shoving　it　out　of　his　way　but　did　not　seem　aware　of　it。　His　face　was　youthful　and　interestingly　angular；　with　closely　set　eyes　and　a　strong　jaw　and　nose。
　'How　are　Jill　and　the　kids？'　I　inquired。
　'Great。　We're　expecting　again。'
　'Congratulations。　That　makes　three？'
　'Four。'　His　smile　got　bigger。
　'I　don't　know　how　you　do　it；'　I　said　sincerely。
　'Doing　it's　the　easy　part。　What　goodies　have　you　brought　me？'
　Setting　the　hard　case　on　the　edge　of　his　desk；　I　opened　it　and　got　out　the　plastic…enclosed　sections　of　bone。　I　handed　them　to　him　and　he　took　out　the　left　femur　first。　He　studied　it　under　a　lamp　with　his　lens；　slowly　turning　it　end　over　end。
　'Hmmm；'　he　said。　'So　you　didn't　notch　the　end　you　cut。'　He　glanced　at　me。
　He　wasn't　chastising；　just　reminding；　and　I　felt　angry　with　myself　again。　Usually；　I　was　so　careful。　If　anything；　I　was　known　for　being　cautious　to　the　point　of　obsession。
　'I　made　an　assumption；　and　I　was　wrong；'　I　said。　'I　did　not　expect　to　discover　that　the　killer　used　a　saw　with　characteristics　very　similar　to　mine。'
　'They　usually　don't　use　autopsy　saws。'　He　pushed　back　his　chair　and　got　up。　'I've　never　had　a　case；　really；　just　studied　that　type　of　saw　mark　in　theory；　here　in　the　lab。'
　'Then　that's　what　this　is。'　I　had　suspected　as　much。
　'I　can't　say　with　certainty　until　I　get　it　under　the　scope。　But　both　ends　look　like　they've　been　cut　with　a　Stryker　saw。'
　He　gathered　the　bags　of　bones；　and　I　followed　him　out　into　the　hall　as　my　misgivings　got　worse。　I　did　not　know　what　we　would　do　if　he　could　not　tell　the　saw　marks　apart。　A　mistake　like　this　was　enough　to　ruin　a　case　in　court。
　'Now；　I　know　you're　probably　not　going　to　tell　much　about　the　vertebral　bone；'　I　said；　for　it　was　trabecular；　less　dense　than　other　bone　and　therefore　not　a　good　surface　for　tool　marks。
　'Never　hurts　to　bring　it　anyway。　We　might　get　lucky；'　he　said　as　we　entered　his　lab。
　There　was　not　an　inch　of　empty　space。　Thirty…five…gallon　drums　of　degreaser　and　polyurethane　varnish　were　parked　wherever　they　would　fit。　Shelves　from　floor　to　ceiling　were　crammed　with　packaged　bones；　and　in　boxes　and　on　carts　were　every　t