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man said it’s a problem with the vents. You’ll have to talk to him.’’
‘‘He’s home sick.’’ As Jackson spoke, he breathed through his mouth and tried holding his nose.
‘‘Surely he’s not the only person the hospital em ploys who can fix air conditioning.’’
‘‘He’s the only one who can look into this. We’ve had an injudicious use of vacation time, and the other man who does this kind of work is out of town.’’
‘‘Then you’ll have to call in someone from outside the hospital.’’
‘‘We don’t have the money.’’
‘‘Then we’ll have to put up with the smell until Mar lon gets back.’’
‘‘This is impossible.’’
‘‘No,’’ said Lynn. ‘‘Just difficult.’’
‘‘I’ll see what I can do.’’ He hurried out of the lab. The door slammed behind him.
‘‘Bean counter?’’ asked Diane.
‘‘That’s him. I won’t ask you what you did, Raymond.’’
‘‘That’d be best, Ma’am.’’
‘‘Yes, well, getting back to Blue. We gave the clothes an initial inspection before you got here,’’ said Lynn, speaking to Diane. ‘‘It’s hard to tell, but the coveralls look relatively new.’’
‘‘From Sears,’’ said Raymond.
‘‘Maybe at your lab you’ll be able to pick up some more information,’’ said Lynn.
‘‘How’d a crime lab in a museum come about any way?’’ Raymond asked Diane as he rolled the body over while Lynn held the head and neck.
‘‘The Rosewood Police Department made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.’’
‘‘Uh huh,’’ said Raymond.
‘‘The city and county assessed the museum’s prop erty value so high it couldn’t pay the taxes. The mayor and chief of detectives suggested that if we would op erate a new crime scene evidence laboratory in the museum for the city, the city would arrange for the money from the real estate taxes paid to be returned to the museum for services rendered.’’
‘‘Sounds to me a great deal like extortion,’’ Lynn said. ‘‘A deal with the devil,’’ Raymond said.
‘‘ Collaborative partnership is the operative term.’’
‘‘Yeah, we get that all the time here too,’’ Lynn said. ‘‘Whenever I hear that, I know my money is about to be cut and my workload increased. Makes me want to gag more than this smell.’’
‘‘From the mayor’s point of view, it’s a perfect solu tion. They get a new crime lab, and we get to keep the museum and the taxes we can’t afford to pay. As an added bonus, they send us one of their employees.’’
‘‘That would be Neva?’’ asked Lynn.
‘‘She’s kind of caught in the middle. She’s not to blame.’’
‘‘So, your forensic anthropology unit was swallowed up by the city’s crime lab?’’
‘‘No. I wouldn’t stand for that. The crime lab is separate. Half my salary and that of my forensic staff is paid by the city to operate their crime lab. It takes a team of accountants to do the paperwork. The one big downside of it is that on paper, I and a chunk of my staff are part-time employees of the city. Some times the mayor and the chief of police forget that it’s only on paper.’’
‘‘Bureaucracies are certainly wonderful,’’ said Lynn. ‘‘I think I’ve found something on the ankle here— some kind of tattoo.’’
Diane walked over and took a look at the blackened skin with a barely visible darker design.
‘‘I see it,’’ said Raymond. ‘‘Can’t tell what it is. Want me to get the lamp?’’
‘‘I think we have enough slippage so we don’t have to burn off the skin. Get me a damp piece of gauze.’’
Raymond fetched the gauze and gave it to Lynn. Diane watched her gently rub the skin, removing a film of epidermis, revealing what looked like a yellow, blue and red butterfly.
‘‘Nice,’’ said Raymond.
‘‘Let’s go ahead and get a picture of this—use the large-format camera,’’ said Lynn.
Raymond retrieved his Horseman VH Metal Field Camera from a closet.
‘‘I want a