Did Tamela Banks’s baby belongoutof this category? Was it possible the baby had died of natural causes? I knew from the bones that the baby had been ful -term, but it could have been stil born.

Was Cagle’s col apse real, or had his coma been induced in some way? Was Cagle’s unknown visitor at the university the same man with whom Looper had seen him at the coffee shop? Why hadn’t Looper taken his partner to the nearest hospital? Where was Cagle’s report on the Lancaster remains?

Had Murray Snow died of natural causes? Had the Lancaster County coroner been reopening the investigation of the headless, handless remains when he died? Why?

Did Dorton belong in this category? Dorton died of an overdose. Had it been self-administered? Had he been helped?

I was getting nowhere.

Grabbing pen and paper, I tried diagramming links. I drew a line from Dorton to Wyatt and wroteMelungeonover it. Then I extended the line to Pearce, and printed the wordCessnaover al three names.

I connected Tyree to Pounder, marked the lineFoote farm,extended the line to the words “privy skul ,” then to the name Tamela Banks.

Connecting Tyree to the Dorton-Pearce-Wyatt line, I jottedcocaine.

I made a triangle linking Cagle, Snow, and the Lancaster remains, then hooked that to the Foote farm privy skul . Shooting an extender from that, I added nodes for the bear bones and bird feathers, shot a line up to J. J. Wyatt, added another, and wrote the names Brian Aiker and Charlotte Grant Cobb at its terminus.

I stared at my handiwork, a spiderweb of names and intersecting lines.

Was I trying to link unrelated events? Disparate people and places? The more I thought, the more frustrated I became with how little I knew.

Back to the laptop.

Possible Victims.Brian Aiker.

Neither the privy skul nor the Lancaster skeletal remains could be assigned to the missing FWS agent. Aiker had driven his car off a boat landing and drowned. I was deleting his name from the possible-victim category when a troubling thought stopped my hand. Why was Aiker found in the back of his vehicle?

A manageable question. Shoving back my chair, I went in pursuit of an answer.

Larabee was working in the stinky room. I knew the reason as soon as I entered.

Aiker’s skin was mottled olive and brown, and most of his flesh had been converted to grave wax. Exposure to the air was not improving him.

What remained of Aiker’s lungs lay sliced and splayed on a cork-board at the foot of the autopsy table. Other decaying organs rested in a hanging scale.

“How’s it going?” I asked, drawing shal ow breaths.

“Extensive adipocere formation. Lungs are col apsed and putrefied. Liquid putrefaction in the airways.” Larabee sounded as frustrated as I felt. “What air spaces remain look diluted, but that may be due to air bubbles.”