“Welcome, ma’am. Dr. Montero is working in the shed. Follow me, please.”

The girl led them through the office to a heavy wood door, and they stepped into a morgue-like room. The roller door that faced the beach was open, letting in bright sunlight and fresh air.

The American stood at a stainless-steel necropsy table with plastic vials, a tin bucket, and a large three-ring binder. Marty was surprised by her stature. He was six-foot-one, and she was only an inch or two shorter. Blonde-haired and blue-eyed, she wore a mustard-colored blouse rolled up at the sleeves, baggy denim shorts, and a pair of white Reeboks.

“Dr. Elsa Montero,” Jacky said, crossing the room and extending her hand. “Thank you so much for agreeing to see me.”

“I must say,” she replied, plucking off a blue latex glove and shaking her hand. “I didn’t know you’d be bringing an entourage.” She gave Marty and Rad a brief smile.

“This is Dr. Martin Murdoch and Radhika Fernandez. I’m sorry, I should have let you know others would be accompanying me.”

“Miss Fernandez, I believe I’ve seen you on the television?”

“Mad Rad, that’s me,” she said, bobbing a curtsy.

Marty was scanning the room for the skull but didn’t see it anywhere. He stepped toward the necropsy table and peeked into a large tin bucket. It was filled with what looked and smelled like feces. Wrinkling his nose, he backed away.

“That’s excrement from a blue whale,” Dr. Montero told him. “Not very easy to come by, let me say.”

“You never thought of collecting old coins or stamps instead?”

“I don’t collect it. I study it.”

Rad said, “You analyze whale feces?”

Dr. Montero nodded. “To understand better how iron passes through the ocean’s food chain, yes. A blue whale’s favorite meal is krill. It will eat millions of them a day, up to three tons. Its iron- and nutrient-rich excrement feeds algae, which feeds more krill, which feeds other blue whales. It’s an amazing cycle, isn’t it? Hopefully, the more we learn about krill stock, the better we can manage and conserve it. Which in turn will help whale numbers begin to recover.”

“Which is what we all want,” Marty said.

Dr. Montero gave him a curious look. “Do I know you, Dr. Murdoch? You also seem familiar…”

“He’s The Merdoc,” Rad offered happily.

Marty shot her a look.

“The Merdoc?” Dr. Montero said, frowning. Then understanding lit her eyes. She seemed about to slap her forehead before stopping herself. “Of course! Dr. Martin Murdoch. I watched your documentary a few years back.” The understanding turned analytical. She glanced at Jacky. “What kind of story are you writing exactly, Miss DeSilva?”

“Just Jacky. And the story…well, that depends on what Dr. Murdoch has to say about the skull.”

“You believe it belonged to a mermaid?” she stated flatly to Marty.

“Given I’ve only seen a brief video clip of it, I’m not in a position to make a judgement. You’re still in possession of it, I hope?” The question came across as more fraught than he would have liked.