Mesozoic Murder Read Free Page B

the body and transport it to the coroner’s office.
    Murders weren’t common in Lacrosse County, and Dorbandt felt like the site had become a freaking petting zoo. The only element missing was the predatory howl of circling reporters. Upon his arrival, he had assigned two uniforms to contain the scene. So far the rookies had done a good job, but with news like this traveling over police bands, it wouldn’t last long.
    At last Doc Tweedy left the body, stepped over the tape, and tossed his mask onto the ground before gazing at Dorbandt. “He’s dead.”
    â€œSo my suspicions are confirmed.” It never failed to irk Dorbandt that MEs appeared at homicides to proclaim the obvious so that the real investigative work could begin. What a cushy job. “What killed him?”
    Tweedy snapped off his fluid-stained rubber gloves. Then he pushed them into a plastic bag for disposal in a bio-hazard container carried by the CSU. “You’re not going to like it.”
    â€œI rarely do.”
    â€œI don’t know for sure.”
    Dorbandt’s eyebrows rose. “No kidding?”
    â€œNo kidding.” Tweedy picked up his bag, floater’s mask, and clipboard. “Let’s move upwind. He stinks worse than sheep shit in July.”
    Tweedy walked toward his unmarked car, positioning the clipboard so he could sign the top sheet with a flourish, officially authorizing a post-mortem exam. They stopped twenty yards from the makeshift grave.
    â€œNow where was I?”
    Dorbandt pulled off his mask, snapping one ear painfully with the elastic strap. Except for the reek of pig, the air smelled better. “You don’t know what killed him.”
    Tweedy nodded. “That’s right, but I found an ante-mortem puncture on the back of his neck. Looks like a needle hole.”
    â€œSomebody gave him a shot?”
    â€œYeah. Might have been a sedative or a narcotic to get him out here without a fuss. Might have been something else altogether.” Tweedy gazed back at the victim.
    Dorbandt grimaced. “Shit. When you get that faraway stare, I know two and two won’t add up to four. What’s eating you?”
    â€œHe’s got anterior and posterior post-mortem insect bites, but he’s also got an inordinate number of ante-mortem lacerations and bruises on the head, shoulder blades, back, buttocks, and calves. His fingernails are badly torn, and the palms and elbows took a pummeling. These aren’t defensive wounds, and they aren’t the result of being beaten or dragged. They came from a sustained trauma. I think they’re self-inflicted.”
    â€œYou think the drug caused him to thrash around?”
    â€œI can’t be that specific. However, given this rocky terrain and his wounds, I do believe he suffered from convulsions or seizures. The toxicology screen will identify the drug.”
    â€œNot much to work with.”
    â€œWell, I know that he didn’t have an easy death. Who is he?”
    â€œAccording to one of the witnesses, his name is Nicholas Capos. He was a botanist from Glasgow. Married. No children.”
    â€œWhat a waste. Anything else you want to know?”
    â€œHow long has he been dead?”
    â€œHard to tell.” Tweedy spoke with consideration. “More than a couple weeks. The weather’s been cool so decomposition has slowed down, and there aren’t a lot of bugs. Howdun will have to give you an approximate time of death after his autopsy.”
    Howdun was the deputy coroner. Since Sheriff Bucky Combs was also the elected county coroner and on a fishing vacation along the Kootenai River, Howdun had to fill in on this one. Dorbandt suspected Bucky would spit metal sutures when he learned how he’d missed doing the autopsy on one of the most gruesome homicides to pop up in years.
    â€œHokay. Thanks. One more thing, Doc. Have you got anything in your little black bag that cures heartburn? My