“Bodies don’t stay in hospitals, they go to mortuaries, Alex. After that, who knows? Regulations were looser back then.”

I said, “The box is solid brass. Maybe it was intended to transfer lab specimens and someone thought iron or steel increased the risk of oxidation.”

She returned to the skeleton, put on magnifying eyeglasses, got an inch from the bones. “No wires or drill holes, probably no bleach or chemical treatment, so it doesn’t appear to be a teaching specimen.” She touched the tooth buds. “Not a newborn, not with those mandibular incisors about to come through, best guess is four to seven months, which fits the overall size of the skeleton. Though if the baby was neglected or abused, it could be older … no fractures or stress marks … I’m not seeing any obvious tool marks—no wounds of any sort … the neck bones appear to be intact, so cross out strangulation … no obvious bone malformations, either, like from rickets or some other deficiency … in terms of sex, it’s too young for sexual dimorphism. But if we can get some DNA, we can determine gender and possibly a degree of racial origin. Unfortunately, the backlog’s pretty bad and something this old and cold isn’t going to be prioritized. In terms of time since death, I can do some carbon dating but my gut tells me this isn’t some ancient artifact.”

I said, “The box was out of active use in ’52, those newspaper clippings are from ’51, and the house was built in ’27. I know that doesn’t determine the time frame—”

“But it’s a good place to start, I agree. So rather than go all supertech from the get-go, Milo should pull up real estate records, find out who’s lived here, and work backward. He identifies a suspect, we can prioritize DNA. Unless the suspect’s deceased, which is quite possible if we’re talking a sixty-, seventy-year-old crime. That’s the case, maybe some relative will cooperate and we can get a partial.”

A deep voice behind and above us grumbled, “Milo has begun pulling up real estate records. Afternoon, Elizabeth.”

Liz looked up. “Hi, didn’t see you when I came in.”

Milo said, “In the house making calls.”

And taking the detective walk through the empty space. His expression said that nothing obvious had come up. “So what do you think, kid?”

Liz repeated her initial impressions. “Not that you need me for any of that.”

He said, “Young Moses needs you, I appreciate your input.”

Detective I Moe Reed was her true love. They’d met at a swamp full of corpses.

She laughed. “Moses appreciates me, too. Say hi when you see him, which is probably before I will.”

She stood. “So what else can I do for you?”

“Take custody of the bones and do your wizard thing. If you need the box, you can have it, otherwise it’s going to the crime lab.”