The next day Jaxon and Sally were in the Medical Examiner’s Wing of St. Catherine’s Hospital in Reston. The morgue was set aside in the eastern section of the hospital farthest from the main entrance. To get to it you had to park in the E.R. garage and trek through the steam and heat of the laundry facility. The Nuns who ran the hospital were serious about keeping the undesirable aspects of death and dying away from the public eye. Jaxon couldn’t help but wonder how the laundry workers liked having so many of the county’s dead wheeled through their work station on the way to the morgue. Maybe they got used to it.
They walked into the outer office where a male receptionist dressed in faded green scrubs and too many gold bracelets ignored them as he read through the latest Cosmopolitan. The name on the counter read Boris. It was difficult to associate the name with the effeminate person seated on the other side of the desk. Surely, he must be a temp or something. Jaxon wondered how many people in this world were actually named Boris.
Jaxon cleared his throat. ‘Boris’ looked up from the magazine and smacked his gum.
“Can I help you?”
He definitely didn’t sound like a Boris, Jaxon thought. He held out his badge and Sally did the same. “Detectives Jennings and Winston, Fairfax County PD. We’re here to see Dr. Barstow.”
“Oh yeah, I think he’s expecting you. Hold on.” He picked up the phone and punched in some numbers with the end of a pencil. He stabbed the keypad of the phone like he was spearing shrimp on the end of a sharp stick. Quick little jabbing motions. Sally rolled her eyes at Jaxon.
‘Boris’ carried on a conversation with whoever answered at the other end and then quickly hung up. “Go right on back. He’s in Bay C. Have you been back there before?”
“Yeah,” Jaxon said. “Bay C. Got it.”
They passed through a set of double doors and followed a long hallway which emptied into another reception like area. This is where the families waited as their loved ones were placed on cold stainless steel tables pending positive I.D. so their deaths could be confirmed and recorded. A long time ago Jaxon had been one of those family members and whenever he came back here, it was like he was suffocating all over again. The room seemed way too small and cold. Sally glanced at him sideways and he realized he was taking quick shallow breaths, almost panting. He got himself under control. He was not going to lose it in here.
Pushing quickly through the waiting area, they entered Bay C through a single swinging door that had a small window in it about head high. They didn’t knock. This room was even colder than the waiting area and Jaxon shivered despite his jacket. Dr. Barstow was in his green scrubs and gloves standing next to a stainless steel table with the body of an older woman laid out naked. He turned when they entered.
“Detectives, glad you could make it.”
“No problem, Doc,” Jaxon said. “What have you got for us?”
“Something I think will surprise you. I hope it will help I.D. our John Doe.”
Dr. Barstow walked over to the group of refrigerators along the far wall and pulled a drawer open, sliding a body out for them to see. It was the first boy from the pool. He slid some plastic sheeting out of the way exposing his midsection and chest, the sutures from the Y incision clearly visible.
Jaxon took an involuntary step back and felt his chest tighten at the sight of the boy lying on the slide. This was all too familiar and he couldn’t keep the vision of his son out of his mind. Twelve years ago he had been in this exact spot, watching them pull his dead son out of the refrigerator so he could I.D. him. He placed a hand on the counter and took a couple of deep breaths. Sally was watching him, but remained silent. Dr. Barstow didn’t seem to notice.
The doc picked up the boy’s right arm. “He has a few broken fingernails from what looks like a struggle and we were able to get some skin cells from underneath the remaining nails. We’ve sent them off for DNA and when we get the results back we’ll run it through the database and see if we get any hits. It’s not very promising and I’ll explain why in a minute.”
He put the boys hand down and circled to the other side of his body. Sally had to move out of the way to let him pass. “Here’s one of the freezer burn patches I told you about.”
He pointed to an area just below the right ribcage. It looked roughened and white compared to the surrounding skin. “Here and here, also,” he said pointing to an area just above his groin. “I sampled a section of skin from here and performed a few tests my colleague up in North Dakota told me to try and I came up with some very interesting findings.”
He turned and walked over to a counter behind them and moved in front of a microscope set up there. “Come take a look.”
Jaxon and Sally moved to the microscope and Jaxon bent over and peered into the instrument. “What am I looking at, Doc?” He seemed to do better when he didn’t have to look at the boy’s body.
“Do you see the jagged edges around the cell wall structure? It looks ruptured in various places correct?”
“Yeah, I see that.”
“This indicates the cells have been frozen at a very cold temperature and for a very long time.”
The Doc paused letting that sink in. Jaxon stood up and let Sally look.
“How long is a very long time, Doc?”
“More than ten years, maybe even twenty. I can’t tell exactly. I can just give you a vague range.”
“Damn. Somebody kept this kid in deep freeze for more than ten years?”
Dr. Barstow nodded slowly. “That’s what it looks like.”
“Is it possible to get a more accurate date?” Sally asked.
“At this point I don’t know of any way. I’m looking into it.”
“How about Carbon 14 dating? Can we use that on him?”
“Not unless he’s been dead for more than two hundred years,” the Doc said. “It’s not accurate enough on substances that are within two hundred or so years old. There are other testing methods and I’m looking into them.”
“But you estimate between ten and twenty years,” Jaxon said.
“That’s my estimate, yes.”
“That’s quite a big time frame to search, but at least we know we’re not looking for something recent,” Jaxon said.
“No wonder nobody is looking for him or reported him missing,” Sally said. “He’s been dead twenty years.”
“Doc, Billy Halson in Forensics has found something interesting on a decapitated dog we got a call on a number of weeks back. Apparently the dog has traces of Diethyl Ether in its bloodstream, just like John Doe here and Paul Bannon. We think it’s the same guy. But in a twenty year span? It’s hard to get around that.”
“With the exceptions of the frozen organs and freezer burn, the two boys have very similar traits. I would have bet my life that it was the same guy, but this huge space in time really puts serious doubts into my mind. It’s not impossible, but it is somewhat unlikely.”
“Has any other evidence turned up? What about residues or fingerprints on the bodies?” Jaxon asked.
“The pool water washed most of that kind of thing away. Did you guys drain the pool and filter the water?”
“No, not yet. We haven’t been able to get in touch with the sports complex manager to get permission to drain it. He’s in Miami at the moment. That’s definitely on the agenda.”
“Well, John Doe will stay here for a while longer anyway,” Dr. Barstow said, “but I’m going to release Paul Bannon to his parents so they can bury him. Any problems with that?”
“Do they plan on cremating him or burying him?” Sally asked.
“Burial, at least that was the desire expressed to me. If it’s important to you, you should contact them.”
“No, if you feel you’ve retrieved all the evidence he has to offer that’s good enough for us,” Jaxon said. “Thanks Doc. Let us know if you find anything more definitive on a date for John Doe.”
“I will.”
“Let’s go, Sally. We’ve got some digging to do.”
Jaxon left Bay C quickly, glad to leave the coldness and the memories behind. He hated coming here, but he knew it was something unavoidable in his line of work. He couldn’t count the number of times he had visited the facility. All he knew is he expected it to get easier. It didn’t.
‘Boris’ was still reading his magazine as they pushed through the double doors and he looked up and smiled as they left. “Have a nice day,” he said, flapping a hand at them that jangled.
“Yeah. You too,” Jaxon said, but thought, too late for that.