'This event is more dental than DNA, but I've logged quite a few isolated body parts.' She let the glasses drop onto a chain around her neck. 'So far we've had few matches. That wil improve as more bodies flow through, but you may have to wait for DNA.'

'I know. I hoped we might get lucky.'

'You're sure it's male?'

I explained the discriminant function analysis.

'So the program takes your unknown and compares it to groups for whom measurements have been recorded.'

'Exactly.'

'And this foot fel in with the boys.'

'Yes.'

'Maybe the computer got it wrong.'

'That's very possible since I'm not sure about the race.'

'That matters?'

'Sure. Some populations are smaler than others. Look at the Mbuti.'

She raised gray eyebrows.

'The pygmies of the Ituri rain forest,' I explained.

'We've got no pygmies here, sugar.'

'No. But there might have been Asians on board. Some Asian populations are smaler than Westerners, so they'd tend to have smaler feet.'

'Not like my dainty size tens.' She lifted a booted foot and laughed.

'What I do feel certain about is the age. This person was over fifty. Quite a bit over, I think.'

'Let's check the passenger list.'

She replaced the glasses, hit keys, and an antemortem grid appeared on the screen. This spread sheet was similar to the postmortem grid except that most of its cels contained information. There were columns for first name, last name, date of birth, blood type, sex, race, weight, height, and myriad other variables. Primrose clicked to the age column and asked the program to sort by that criterion.

Air TransSouth 228 had carried only six passengers over the age of fifty.

'So young for the good Lord to be calin' 'em home.'

'Yeah,' I said, staring at the screen.

We were silent a moment, then Primrose moved the cursor and we both leaned in.

Four males. Two females. Al white.

'Let's sort by race.'

The antemortem grid showed sixty-eight whites, ten African-Americans, two Hispanics, and two Asians among the passengers. The entire cabin crew and both pilots were white. None of the blacks was over forty. Both Asians were in their early twenties, probably students. Masako Takaguchi had been lucky. She'd died in one piece and was already identified.

'I guess I'd better try another approach. For now you can enter an age estimate of fifty plus. And the victim had gout.'

'My ex has gout. Only human thing about that man.' Another laugh, straight from the bely.

'Mmm. Could I ask one other favor?'

'Sure, baby.'

'Check Jean Bertrand.'

She found the row and moved the cursor to the status column.

To date, Bertrand's body had not been identified.

'I'l be back when I know more on this one,' I said, colecting the packet for number 387.