cpatricia.unnaturalexposure-第4节

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　'I　can't　say　that　I　blame　you；'　my　driver　said。　'The　smell's　pretty　rough。　I　can　tell　you　that。'
　'It's　not　the　smell；'　I　said。　'Microorganisms　are　what　make　me　worry。
　'Gee；'　he　said；　anxiously。　'Maybe　I　should　wear　one　of　those　things。'
　'You　shouldn't　be　getting　close　enough　to　have　a　problem。'　He　made　no　reply；　and　I　had　no　doubt　that　he　already　had　gotten　that　close。　Looking　was　too　much　of　a　temptation　for　most　people　to　resist。　The　more　gruesome　the　case；　the　more　this　was　true。
　'I　sure　am　sorry　about　the　dust；'　he　said　as　we　drove　through　tangled　goldenrod　on　the　rim　of　a　small　fire　pond　populated　with　ducks。　'You　can　see　we　put　a　layer　of　tire　chips　everywhere　to　keep　things　settled；　and　a　street　cleaner　sprays　it　down。　But　nothing　seems　to　help　all　that　much。'　He　nervously　paused　before　going　on。　'We　do　three　thousand　tons　of　trash　a　day　out　here。'
　'From　where？'　I　asked。
　'Littleton；　North　Carolina；　to　Chicago。'
　'What　about　Boston？'　I　asked；　for　the　first　four　cases　were　believed　to　be　from　as　far　away　as　that。
　'No；　ma'am。'　He　shook　his　head。　'Maybe　one　of　these　days。　We're　so　much　less　per　ton　down　here。　Twenty…five　dollars　pared　to　sixty…nine　in　New　Jersey　or　eighty　in　New　York。　Plus；　we　recycle；　test　for　hazardous　waste；　collect　methane　gas　from　deposing　trash。'
　'What　about　your　hours？'
　'Open　twenty…four　hours　a　day；　seven　days　a　week；'　he　said　with　pride。
　'And　you　have　a　way　to　track　where　the　trucks　e　from？'
　'A　satellite　system　that　uses　a　grid。　We　can　at　least　tell　you　which　trucks　would　have　dumped　trash　during　a　certain　time　period　in　the　area　where　the　body　was　found。'
　We　splashed　through　a　deep　puddle　near　Porta…Johns；　and　rocked　by　a　powerwash　where　tracks　were　being　hosed　off　on　their　way　back　out　to　life's　roads　and　highways。
　'I　can't　say　we've　ever　had　anything　like　this；'　he　said。　'Now；　they've　had　body　parts　at　the　Shoosmith　dump。　Or　at　least；　that's　the　rumor。'
　He　glanced　at　me；　assuming　I　would　know　if　such　a　rumor　were　true。　But　I　did　not　verify　what　he　had　just　said　as　the　Explorer　sloshed　through　mud　strewn　with　rubber　chips；　the　sour　stench　of　deposing　garbage　drifting　in。　My　attention　was　riveted　to　the　small　truck　I　had　been　watching　since　I　had　gotten　here；　thoughts　racing　along　a　thousand　different　tracks。
　'By　the　way；　my　name's　Keith　Pleasants。'　He　wiped　a　hand　on　his　pants　and　held　it　out　to　me。　'Pleased　to　meet　you。'
　My　gloved　hand　shook　his　at　an　awkward　angle　as　men　holding　handkerchiefs　and　rags　over　their　noses　watched　us　pull　up。　There　were　four　of　them；　gathered　around　the　back　of　what　I　now　could　see　was　a　hydraulic　packer；　used　for　emptying　Dumpsters　and　pressing　the　trash。　Cole's　Trucking　Co。　was　painted　on　the　doors。
　'That　guy　poking　garbage　with　a　stick　is　the　detective　for　Sussex；'　Pleasants　said　to　me。
　He　was　older；　in　shirtsleeves；　wearing　a　revolver　on　his　hip。　I　felt　I'd　seen　him　somewhere　before。
　'Grigg？'　I　guessed；　referring　to　the　detective　I　had　spoken　to　on　the　phone。
　'That's　right。'　Sweat　was　rolling　down　Pleasants'　face；　and　he　was　getting　more　keyed　up。　'You　know；　I've　never　had　any　dealings　with　the　sheriff's　department；　never　even　got　a　speeding　ticket　around　here。'
　We　slowed　down　to　a　halt；　and　I　could　barely　see　through　the　boiling　dust。　Pleasants　grabbed　his　door　handle。
　'Sit　tight　just　a　minute；'　I　told　him。
　I　waited　for　dust　to　settle；　looking　out　the　windshield　and　surveying　as　I　always　did　when　approaching　a　crime　scene。　The　loader's　bucket　was　frozen　midair；　the　packer　beneath　it　almost　full。　All　around；　the　landfill　was　busy　and　full　of　diesel　sounds；　work　stopped　only　here。　For　a　moment；　I　watched　powerful　white　trucks　roar　uphill　as　Cats　clawed　and　grabbed；　and　pactors　crushed　the　ground　with　their　chopper　wheels。
　The　body　would　be　transported　by　ambulance；　and　paramedics　watched　me　through　dusty　windows　as　they　sat　in　air　conditioning；　waiting　to　see　what　I　was　going　to　do。　When　they　saw　me　fix　the　surgical　mask　over　my　nose　and　mouth　and　open　my　door；　they　climbed　out；　too。　Doors　slammed　shut。　The　detective　immediately　walked　to　meet　me。
　'Detective　Grigg；　Sussex　Sheriff's　Department；'　he　said。　'I'm　the　one　who　called。'
　'Have　you　been　out　here　the　entire　time？'　I　asked　him。
　'Since　we　were　notified　at　approximately　thirteen　hundred　hours。　Yes；　ma'am。　I've　been　right　here　to　make　sure　nothing　was　disturbed。'
　'Excuse　me；'　one　of　the　paramedics　said　to　me。　'You　going　to　want　us　right　now？'
　'Maybe　in　fifteen。　Someone　will　e　get　you；'　I　said　as　they　wasted　no　time　returning　to　their　ambulance。　'I'm　going　to　need　some　room　here；'　I　said　to　everybody　else。
　Feet　crunched　as　people　stepped　out　of　the　way；　revealing　what　they　had　been　guarding　and　gawking　at。　Flesh　was　unnaturally　pale　in　the　dying　light　of　the　autumn　afternoon；　the　torso　a　hideous　stub　that　had　tumbled　from　a　scoop　of　trash　and　landed　on　its　back。　I　thought　it　was　Caucasian；　but　was　not　sure；　and　maggots　teeming　in　the　genital　area　made　it　difficult　for　me　to　determine　gender　at　a　glance。　I　could　not　even　say　with　certainty　whether　the　victim　was　pre…　or　postpubescent。　Body　fat　was　abnormally　low；　ribs　protruding　beneath　flat　breasts　that　may　or　may　not　have　been　female。
　I　squatted　close　and　opened　my　medical　bag。　With　forceps；　I　collected　maggots　into　a　jar　for　the　entomologist　to　examine　later；　and　decided　upon　closer　inspection　that　the　victim　was；　in　fact；　a　woman。　She　had　been　decapitated　low　on　the　cervical　spine；　arms　and　legs　severed。　Stumps　were　dry　and　dark　with　age；　and　I　knew　right　away　that　there　was　a　difference　between　this　case　and　the　others。
　This　woman　had　been　dismembered　by　cutting　straight　through　the　strong　bones　of　the　humerus　and　femur；　versus　the　joints。　Getting　out　a　scalpel；　I　could　feel　the　men　staring　as　I　made　a　half…inch　incision　on　the　torso's　right　side；　and　inserted　a　long　chemical　thermometer。　I　rested　a　second　thermometer　on　top　of　my　bag。
　'What　are　you　doing？'　asked　a　man　in　a　plaid　shirt　and　baseball　cap；　who　looked　like　he　might　get　sick。
　'I　need　the　body's　temperature　to　help　determine　time　of　death。　A　core　liver　temperature　is　the　most　accurate；'　I　patiently　explained。　'And　I　also　need　to　know　the　temperature　out　here。'
　'Hot；　that's　what　it　is；'　said　another　man。　'So；　it's　a　woman；　I　guess。'
　'It's　too　soon　to　say；'　I　replied。　'Is　this　your　packer？'
　'Yeah。'
　He　was　young；　with　dark　eyes　and　very　white　teeth；　and　tattoos　on　his　fingers　that　I　usually　associated　with　people　who　have　been　in　prison。　A　sweaty　bandanna　was　tied　around　his　head　and　knotted　in　back；　and　he　could　not　look　at　the　torso　long　without　averting　his　gaze。
　'In　the　wrong　place　at　the　wrong　time；'　he　added；　shaking　his　head　with　hostility。
　'What　do　you　mean？'　Grigg　had　his　eye　on　him。
　'Wasn't　from　me。　I　know　that；'　the　driver　said　as　if　it　were　the　most　important　point　he　would　ever　make　in　his　life。　'The　Cat　dug　it　up　while　it　was　spreading　my　load。'
　'Then　we　don't　know　when　it　was　dumped　here？'　I　scanned　faces　around　me。
　It　was　Pleasants　who　replied；　'Twenty…three　trucks　unloaded　in　this　spot　since　ten　A。M。；　not　counting　this　one。'　He　looked　at　the　packer。
　'Why　ten　A。M。？'　I　asked；　for　it　seemed　like　a　rather　arbitrary　time　to　start　counting　trucks。
　'Because　that's　when　we　put　down　the　last　cover　of　tire　chips。　So　there's　no　way　it　could　have　been　dumped　before　then；'　Pleasants　explained；　staring　at_　the　body。　'And　in　my　opinion；　it　couldn't　have　been　out　long；　anyway。　It　doesn't　exactly　look　the　way　you'd　expect　if　it's　been　run　over　by　a　fifty…ton　pactor　with　chopper　wheels；　trucks　or　even　this　loader。'
　He　stared　off　at　other　sites　where　pacted　trash　was　being　gouged　off　trucks　as　huge　tractors　crushed　and　spread。　The　driver　of　the　packer　was　getting　increasingly　agitated　and　angry。
　'We　got　big　machines　all　over　the　place　up　here；'　Pleasants　added。　'And　they　pretty　much　never　stop。'
　I　looked　at　the　packer；　and　the　bright　yellow　loader　with　its　empty　cab。　A　tatter　of　black　trash　bag　fluttered　from　the　raised　bucket。
　'Where's　the　driver　of　the　loader？'　I　asked。
　Pleasants　hesitated　before　answering；　'Well；　I　guess　that　would　be　me。　We　had　somebody　out　sick。　I　was　asked　to　work　on　the　hill。'
　Grigg　moved　closer　to　the　loader；　looking　up　at　what　was　left　of　the　trash　bag　as　it　moved　in　the　hot；　barren　air。
　'Tell　me　what　you　saw；'　I　said　to　Pleasants。
　'Not　much。　I　was　unloading　him。'　He　nodded　at　the　driver。　'And　my　bucket　caught　the　garbage　bag；　the　one　you　see　there。　It　tore　and　the　body　fell　out　to　where　it　is　now。'　He　paused；　wiping　his　face　on　his　sleeve　and　swatting　at　flies。
　'But　you　don't　know　for　sure　where　this　came　from；'　I　tried　again；　while　Grigg　listened；　even　though　he　probably　had　already　taken　their　statements。
　'I　could've　dug　it　up；'　Pleasants　conceded。　'I'm　not　saying　it's　impossible。　I　just　don't　think　I　did。'
　'That's　'cause　you　don't　want　to　think　it。'　The　driver　glared　at　him。
　'I　know　what　I　think。'　Pleasants　didn't　flinch。　'The　bucket　grabbed　it　off　your　packer　when　I　was　unloading　it。'
　'Man；　you　don't　know　it　came　from　me；'　the　driver　snapped　at　him。
　'No；　I　don't　know　it　for　a　fact。　Makes　sense；　that's　all。