Free Hungry Ghosts by Peggy Blair Page B

evidence.
    â€œAre you sure it’s a woman?” Ramirez asked. “I thought the skull would be smaller.”
    â€œIt’s a myth that men have big heads, despite their egos,” the small surgeon laughed. “But the skull is actually not considered all that useful these days when it comes to determining gender. There are far too many subjective traits. The innominate bone of the pelvis is far more reliable. Of course, the fact that she’s wearing a skirt, or at least what’s left of one, helps.”
    Apiro’s technicians had used shovels and trowels to excavate the site—there was no fuel for backhoes. The digging was time-­consuming, perhaps the reason the killer had left his victim lying on the ground.
    â€œWhen a body isn’t buried, decomposition takes place quickly,” Apiro explained. “There are two hundred and six bones in the adult skeleton. Many are quite small. Fingers, toes, even teeth, eventually loosen and sink into the ground. Sometimes birds and animals carry them off. That’s why we need to look under the topsoil.”
    Along with a few small body parts, the technicians found a cigarette butt buried in the dirt. It was Sanchez who discovered the woman’s purse in nearby vegetation, where it had been carried off by feral dogs. There were chew marks in the leather.
    â€œIf leather purses are good enough for dogs to eat, maybe we should start boiling them for soup,” Sanchez joked. “Purses, I mean. The dogs are too thin. They would have to taste better than whatever that meat substitute is in our rations. Remember in the Special Period, when they started calling it population meat? ”
    â€œI always wondered what part of the population it came from,” said Ramirez.
    From the ground where he was kneeling, Apiro snorted.
    Despite a meticulous ground search, that was all they’d uncovered. No blood, no hair, no fibres, no fingerprints on anything, not even the victim’s. The fact that the skeleton had pink teeth pointed to strangulation, Apiro explained at the autopsy: erythrocytes, or red blood cells, had been released into Prima Verrier’s dentin.
    But without a forensic trail to follow, there was nowhere to go. It was Ramirez’s only cold case since taking over the Major Crimes Unit.
    But now there was another victim. Ramirez’s adrenaline surged—he might have a second chance.

    â€œHow long has she been dead?” Ramirez asked Apiro.
    â€œGiven the degree of decomposition, I’d say at least two weeks. I found arthropods in the remains, which may help narrow down that time frame. There’s a visiting forensic entomologist at the Centre for Legal Medicine. Dr. Yeung. I’m sure she can help us identify them.”
    â€œArthropods?” said Ramirez.
    â€œBlow flies,” said Apiro. He brushed one from his forehead. “I found what might be beetle larvae as well, but I’m not an expert.”
    â€œWhat is a forensic entomologist?” Espinoza asked.
    â€œThey study the insects that colonize bodies,” Apiro explained. “They work back generationally to determine a time of death based on their life cycles.”
    The ghost stepped away from Espinoza. She bent her index fingers, mimicking a camera. She pretended to snap several shots of the body. She stopped and shook her head sadly.
    Ramirez turned to look up and down Airport Road. Trafficwas getting heavier as the sun rose. A steady stream of taxis and air-­conditioned tourist buses transported turistas to the José Martí International Airport. Every truck that drove by had passengers squeezed in the back, some holding bicycles.
    â€œHe took a chance, didn’t he?” said Espinoza. “Leaving her this close to the highway. It’s busy no matter what time of day.”
    Ramirez nodded.
    â€œI have one question for both of you,” the small pathologist said, straightening one of his short legs