Order of the Solar Temple

Chapter 4

Pèrez Duitmore, head of the Laboratoire de Mèdicine Lègale stood at the window of his office staring at the St Lawrence river with intense concentration that could break a cryptic code while swirling a cup of coffee. Somehow is concentration broke and he found himself staring at his faint image on the window screen. He was a slender man blessed with a good height of 6ft.5 inches, featuring his head was a pair of stilling blue eyes and a mop of salt and peppery hair though right now it was more like grey hair, nose pointed like that of an eagle and pinkish thin lines for lips. He admired the image for a while before catching himself and withdrawing.

Drawing the office chair out, he flopped on it and let the thoughts run. All he asked was just a week to spend time with his estranged family, he had almost earned their forgiveness when the bloody call came through. Couldn't the murderer have picked any other week? He groaned in frustration just as the desk alarm beeped. Eight a.m. Emptying the cup of coffee, he gathered the copies of the morning rooster and moved towards the conference room.

The conference room was a big and wide room featuring colour white and numerous fluorescent bulbs. At the center was a long oval opaque table surrounded by about twelve chairs, a white board hung on the adjacent wall and a large screen that was rarely used occupied the adjacent wall. It was a not overly cluttered with equipments purposelly achieved to avoid distraction. It was a place for solitude of the mind which involved mostly thinking out solutions to problem and usual morning meetings.

The room was already busy with people when Pèrez walked in; they quietened down as they noticed his presence. He stood at the head of the table fiddling with the roosters then flashed them a patronizing smile.

"Morning guys, we've got six autopsies today" he handed the roosters out and waited till it got around before going through them

The St. Lawrence river had washed up the bodies of two adventurous teenagers who seem to have gone on a lengthy swimming competition, apparently their systems couldn't carry the freezing water.

A young man had walked into the express on a go sign. He was ran over by an automobile containing two. Alchohol suspected.

Dried caribou was found in a secret compartment of an underground basement. Identity needed.

A charred body was retrieved from a gas explosion in the Laurentians. Arson suspected.

A down-and-out was discovered dead this morning.

"The belief is that he was mugged and our government seems to care about the destitutes more when they're dead. Such love" Pèrez deadpanned sarcastically

He alloted the autopsy to each person distinctively and closed the meeting afterwards. As they filed out he signalled to Aidèen.

"How bad is it?" He asked as she reached him

"Pretty bad, its a young girl. I spoke to Claudel and the SQ boys, they're suspecting arson"

"Suspecting?"

"Well, till i conduct an autopsy we still suspect"

"Have they spoken to the people in the Laurentians?"

"That, i don't know"

"What about parents? I mean they should have turned up now wherever they are " Aidèen casted her eyes down

"Both dead"

"How do you know that?" Pèrez asked suspiciously. She bit her bottom lip nervously and tucked a strand of hair behind her hair

"She was a student of mine, very close to me and a bright girl, suddenly she lost her parents and just went downhill from there. Couldn't concentrate, couldn't afford the fees anymore. The University offered her scholarship but she turned it, she just lost it. I used to call her everytime but at a point she cut of all connections. I didn't even know she was still in Canada, talk more of the Laurentians" She breathed in heavily as if she just let go of a confession that has been weighing her mind down. Pèrez placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, she nodded slowly and exited to her office.

Reaching her office, Aidèen opened a dossier and transferred the information she had into the anthropology form spotting a distinct color of pink. Starting from the first question, she began filling. Name: ?. For the first time, Aidèen wondered if the girl in the morgue below was really Lorena. For all she knew, lorena must have lived there sometime and may have left or something. She stared back at the sheet for a while and scribbled her final thought. Inconnu. Unknown. Date of birth: Blank. Laboratoire de Mèdicine Lègale number: 14013. Morgue number: 145. Police incident number: 68403. Pathologist: Xavier Mason. Coroner: Claudel Wenger, Investigators: Jean Barthe Rhodes and Bèrtrand Crust, Sûretè du Quèbec.

She added the date, signed and placed the slip into the pink folder. After arranging the folders and file on her desk, she rode the elevator to the morgue and requested for LML 14013 to be brought to the 'rusted' room. It was a code word used whenever charred bodies were involved.

Having changed to scrubs, Aidèen filed to the room. Fèlicia, the lab technician was placing the black body bag on a gurney. They both peeled the leather bag of the body careful of the still soft flesh. As Aidèen took in the condition of the body, it looked smaller as if it shrinked and the burns looked more critical.

"I haven't ran it through X-ray yet. Think its still necessary" Aidèen eyed the body expertly

"Well, lets not leave any stone unturned"

Few minutes later, the body was wheeled back with Fèlicia holding a few x-ray screens. She handed it to Aidèen who took a cursory glance at it before putting it away. Fèlicia took a few Polaroids at different angles, placed them in an envelope and left them on the table

"I'll be around the corner if you need anything"

"Sure" Aidèen said unraveling surgical equipments from a purse bag.

She placed a paper apron over her neck and snapped on a pair of surgical gloves. Taking a more scrutinizing look at the body, Aidèen noticed parts were the flesh has burnt off and tender bones jutted out, the hip socket was fanning out of the left side looking tender and as white as baby powder. The fingers were no longer fingers but skeletal bones barely hanging on to each other as they dangled dangerously. Her gaze shifted to the deep gash trailing the right arm up to the shoulder blade and the menancing nature of the bared teeth. Thank God they were in intact. Albert, the odontologist would take a look, with the dental records they can get a sure Identity of the Jane Doe.

Aidèen reclined to the table and popped three X-ray shots. Taking her time to intensively scrutinize them, the first shot showed detached leg and hip bones barely holding on to fragments of charred flesh. The next film exposed the ribs and a tiny object lodging between the intersection of the two ribs. The last showed the mandible and tooth crowns still encased tightly in a not-so-soft gum. Feeling satisfied she enveloped the shots back and focused her attention on the body.

A little tilt in the pelvis region and it came off, Aidèen felt a little guilty for letting it rip off but it made her work easier. Rotating it around she teased away charred flesh and tissue then noticed the tiny femoral head. It was obviously that of a female. She took a polaroid. The connecting ligament to the pubic was still in tact, Aidèen gripped the saw firmly as she hacked through, the gritting sound almost dulling her brain. It finally came off. Gently teasing away charred tissue, the joint between both pubic bones came into view. Pubic Symphysis. Each were arched in a concave at the lower branch. Female. More polaroid. The Obturator Foramen covered by the ligamentous membrane had cooked and shrunk but managed to still protect the bone at the same time acting difficult to be teased out. She let it be.

Reaching for the head, she did a quick observation not wanting to get too deep that would be fpr the pathologist to do. The skull was barely covered as much flesh has burnt off revealing the hard skull, riveting it around pointed structures of bones called spicule oulined a combed pattern indicating the owner to be an adult. The molar and roots confirmed the suspicion. Adult. Lorena? No.

She refocused her attention on the ribs and gave a Y-incision slit from the shoulder blades to the pubic and carefully yanked the slit open, the flesh was barely as thick as a book cover so she had to scrape them off revealing the ribs. As she reached for her saw, a harsh glint caught her eye and she mid-froze staring at it.

Fèlicia peeked in by the doorway

"Need any help?" Aidèen didn't answer

"Everything okay?" No answer

"What's wrong?" she sauntered in, face oozing with worry. Aidèen turned to her, meeting her gaze with sad green eyes

"It gets worse"

"What happened?" Fèlicia reached her glancing at the body and back at her. Aidèen pointed to the lone object lodged in the intersection of the two ribs.

"A bullet"

¤•¤•¤•¤

It took two days for Aidèen to finish her report. A little past four p.m on a Wednesday she was rounding up her report on the body when the telephone rang. Pèrez. She had been anticipating the call since; he was anxious to know her findings, wanting the case to be over and done with, no one liked bad news near their jurisdiction. She was afraid he was going to hear some. Jean had met up with her earlier and they had both formed a theory, a sketchy story. The autopsy added to the details. A story she would be telling.

Gathering up her notepad, she headed for the elevator. Reaching the landing, she walked to the end of the hallway and gave a gentle know before pushing the door open. She was suprised to see an audience of Jean and Bèrtrand glacing at the intruder before relaxing back.

"Lets take this to the conference room" Pèrez voiced leading the way. As everyones settled on their seats, his gaze flickered to Aidèen

"What's the theory?"

"She was trying to abscond when whoever it was broke into her house, her box was hastily packed and not finished, her cosmetics were sprawled across the dresser in the crime scene. From my evaluation, she got into a fight with the intruder and maybe she was getting hard to deal with and he tried to silence her"

"Silence?" Bèrtrand spoke up

"I found a bullet lodged between her ribs, he weakened her with the shot and led her to the bedroom..."

"Was she r***d?" Bertrand asked

"No, no sign of r**e" she hadn't specifically checked though but if there was she would have noticed

"Go on"

"Probably she was still trying to escape it ended up with a scuttle and he slashed her arm with a knife, very plausible a pocket knife. It wasn't that deep about 3mm. Gave her a few punches but made sure she wasn't dead yet just in pain. The fire was the last blow" They looked at her questioningly

"Lividity?" Pèrez suggested. She nodded

"Carbon monixide in the blood" she finished off.

The silence was prickly, the death was a bad one. Now the ball was in the court of the SQ. Investigation to hold. Familiy to be told. It was a shitty month.

After the closing of the meeting, Aidèen went after Albert, he agreed to do the dental work, they needed a sure name as the investigation unfolds.

She finished up the report and submitted it at the secetariat. As she reached her office, Jean was hitched on her table cracking his knuckles. He stood as she entered taking a poised stand.

"Everything okay?" She asked taking in his grim state. Hell, he was always grim.

"Oui. The bullet was what make?" She stared at him like he had grown an additional head

"Thats not my job to know, Jean. I find the bullet. You determine the make" she dropped the folder she was holding on the desk.

"Take me to it then"

"It has already been bagged as evidence" He continued with his stilling gaze. She sighed

"Fine, follow me". They rode to the basement. The rectangular gray lockers were arranged case by case in a classical order and a smaller locker stood beside a bigger containing evidence of each case.

She located locker 14013 and hitched a key into the smaller box, twirling it around. It clicked open. She retrieved a small ziploc bag. A metal bullet rested at the base with a size of about 9mm. Handing it to Jean, he ripped it open attempting to reach for it when she gave his hand a small slap.

"Gloves" He fetched a pair of gloves then gave her a cold stilling gaze which almost sent her scurrying away. Twirling the metal in his hand, Jean closed his eyes for intense concentration. Aidèen on the other hand tooke her time to study him. Dark hair like hers, black eyes, cold features. She had known Jean for a year. He was a transfer detective from the bureau of drugs; he spent years undercover busting up the plans of drug lords and handing them their ass. He has been shot, stabbed, fried, blended and blazed and come out harder than gold. What made him find his way to the Sùrete de Quebec? A mission of his had been compromised and he had been giving away, there was a blood bath. The rumuor was that Jean lost something special that day. No one knew what it was but there was suspicions. A wife? A child? After getting his revenge, he decide to quit and focus his energy some where else.

"It'd be best if you stop staring at me Dr Pierre" Jean said opening his eyes. Aidèen didn't looked away nor blushed. Yes, she was staring at him.

"Have the yoga session come to an end?" she asked still holding his gaze. If other people feared him, she didn't. Atleast not all the time.

He looked at her incredulously "Its a bullet"

"No s**t Sherlock" she suddenly regretted saying that. It made her sound immature. Did it?

"Its a .357 magnum"