When I checked my messages later that evening, I found one from Lucy Crowe. I returned her cal and told her everything I knew about Primrose Hobbs, ending with our Sunday-morning rendezvous at the morgue.

'And that foot and al its paperwork are now missing?'

'So I was told. Primrose was probably the last person to see the stuff.'

'Parker Davenport told you she signed it out. Did she sign it back in?'

'Good question.'

'Tel me about security.'

'Al DMORT and ME personnel have IDs, as do the people from your department and the Bryson City PD who work security. A guard checks IDs at the perimeter fence, and there's a sign in/sign out sheet inside the morgue. A color-coded dot goes on your badge each day.'

'Why?'

'In case someone manages to duplicate the ID, they'd have no way of knowing that day's color.'

'What about after hours?'

'By now there's probably a smaler crew left at the morgue, mostly records and computer staff, some medical personnel. There'd be no one there at night except your deputy or a Bryson City cop.'

I pictured the lieutenant governor with his videocasette.

'There is a surveilance camera on the gate.'

'What about the computers?'

'Every VIP user has a password, and only a limited number of people can enter or delete data.'

'Assuming Hobbs returned it, where would that foot have been?'

'At the end of the day everything goes into reefer trucks marked "unprocessed," "in process," or "identified." Cases are located with a computer tracking system.'

'How hard would it be to break in?'

'High school kids have hacked the Pentagon.'

I heard distant conversation, like voices drifting through a wormhole in space.

'Sheriff, I think Primrose Hobbs was murdered because of that foot.'

'Or the thing could be a biological specimen.'

'A woman examines an object which is the subject of controversy, that object disappears, and the woman turns up dead three days later. If there's no link it's one hel of a coincidence.'

'We're looking at every angle.'

'Have you learned why no one reported her missing?'

'Apparently, parts of the operation are shifting to Charlotte. When Hobbs failed to show at the morgue on Monday, her coworkers figured she had gone there. Folks in Charlotte assumed she was stil in Bryson City. She was in the habit of phoning her son on Saturdays, so he had no clue that anything was amiss.'