feathers.”
David rolled his eyes. “Contour feathers have a long, thick central shaft called a rachis.” He pointed at examples on the projection as he talked. “The branches off the rachis are called barbs. More branches off the barbs are called barbules, and they are held together by tiny hooks called barbicels. Together these form the vane or vexillum of the feather—the main part of the feather. All this structure makes it so you can zip a feather up and down. Got that? Because I’m giving a test.”
“What?” said Izzy. “Zip them?”
“In a manner of speaking,” interrupted Diane. “Kind of like Velcro. It protects the bird. Now, David, will you bottom-line it for me?”
Diane was getting impatient, even though finishing meant having to go to lunch. But she knew David would expand his explanation into the variations in feathers that allowed people like him to tell what kind of bird a feather came from.
David frowned. He loved to lecture and he was usually pretty good at it. But sometimes the other members of the team were a trial and he would make it boring and long on purpose.
“I was just joshing you, David. I always thought feathers were just feathers,” said Izzy.
“Everything in the universe has qualities that are unique enough that they can be differentiated apart from other like things if we just examine the characteristics closely,” David said.
“And I can see you’ve made a fine start,” said Izzy. He turned toward Diane. “Have you seen the number of databases he has?”
“Yes,” said Diane. She grinned at David. “It’s one of the things that makes us unique. So, what do we have?”
David clicked the remote and displayed the evidence from the knapsack up on the screen.
“The talons are from a harpy eagle. The mummified paws are from a woolly monkey. The beak is from a keel-billed toucan. The teeth are from a jaguar. They have holes drilled in them and were once probably part of a necklace. The holes were all made with the same tool, probably a jeweler’s drill. The feathers are from macaws. The blue ones are from a Spix’s macaw.”
“A Spix’s macaw?” said Diane. “I didn’t think there were any left.”
David started to answer when Neva, another of Diane’s crime scene team, came out of a glassed-in cubicle where she had been working on the woven bag the evidence had been found in. They had thought it might be a medicine bag from one of the tribes. Neva slipped off her gloves and disposed of them.
“The bag is on cam two,” she said, and David switched over to it. The screen blinked and came back up with a view of the embroidered bag with a woven handle. “It’s not South American,” said Neva. “It’s Thai.”
“Thai?” said David. “Really?”
Neva nodded. “It’s saturated with a drug called XTR25. It’s a new variant of ecstasy and pretty powerful. The DEA is going to be interested in this,” said Neva.
Diane felt sick to her stomach.
Chapter 10
The museum restaurant where Diane was to meet Vanessa and Laura had an ancient medieval library look about it. The center of the restaurant was a maze of tall, vintage brick archways that created small chamberlike spaces with vaulted ceilings, each containing four or five tables of dark wood. Booths lining the walls were tucked behind similar archways.
Diane knew that Vanessa and Laura would choose a booth. They always did. More privacy. She saw them seated across the restaurant. Madge Stewart was standing in front of their booth with her back to Diane, speaking in an animated fashion.
It didn’t take her long , thought Diane.
She watched Madge’s gossip dance. It was like a tattletale pantomime. Vanessa said something to Madge. Madge’s body language changed. She stood still, like a scolded child.
Diane sighed and threaded her way through the tables toward the booth. She was almost there when Laura noticed her, smiled and waved with a little too much animation. Diane grimaced.
Madge
David rolled his eyes. “Contour feathers have a long, thick central shaft called a rachis.” He pointed at examples on the projection as he talked. “The branches off the rachis are called barbs. More branches off the barbs are called barbules, and they are held together by tiny hooks called barbicels. Together these form the vane or vexillum of the feather—the main part of the feather. All this structure makes it so you can zip a feather up and down. Got that? Because I’m giving a test.”
“What?” said Izzy. “Zip them?”
“In a manner of speaking,” interrupted Diane. “Kind of like Velcro. It protects the bird. Now, David, will you bottom-line it for me?”
Diane was getting impatient, even though finishing meant having to go to lunch. But she knew David would expand his explanation into the variations in feathers that allowed people like him to tell what kind of bird a feather came from.
David frowned. He loved to lecture and he was usually pretty good at it. But sometimes the other members of the team were a trial and he would make it boring and long on purpose.
“I was just joshing you, David. I always thought feathers were just feathers,” said Izzy.
“Everything in the universe has qualities that are unique enough that they can be differentiated apart from other like things if we just examine the characteristics closely,” David said.
“And I can see you’ve made a fine start,” said Izzy. He turned toward Diane. “Have you seen the number of databases he has?”
“Yes,” said Diane. She grinned at David. “It’s one of the things that makes us unique. So, what do we have?”
David clicked the remote and displayed the evidence from the knapsack up on the screen.
“The talons are from a harpy eagle. The mummified paws are from a woolly monkey. The beak is from a keel-billed toucan. The teeth are from a jaguar. They have holes drilled in them and were once probably part of a necklace. The holes were all made with the same tool, probably a jeweler’s drill. The feathers are from macaws. The blue ones are from a Spix’s macaw.”
“A Spix’s macaw?” said Diane. “I didn’t think there were any left.”
David started to answer when Neva, another of Diane’s crime scene team, came out of a glassed-in cubicle where she had been working on the woven bag the evidence had been found in. They had thought it might be a medicine bag from one of the tribes. Neva slipped off her gloves and disposed of them.
“The bag is on cam two,” she said, and David switched over to it. The screen blinked and came back up with a view of the embroidered bag with a woven handle. “It’s not South American,” said Neva. “It’s Thai.”
“Thai?” said David. “Really?”
Neva nodded. “It’s saturated with a drug called XTR25. It’s a new variant of ecstasy and pretty powerful. The DEA is going to be interested in this,” said Neva.
Diane felt sick to her stomach.
Chapter 10
The museum restaurant where Diane was to meet Vanessa and Laura had an ancient medieval library look about it. The center of the restaurant was a maze of tall, vintage brick archways that created small chamberlike spaces with vaulted ceilings, each containing four or five tables of dark wood. Booths lining the walls were tucked behind similar archways.
Diane knew that Vanessa and Laura would choose a booth. They always did. More privacy. She saw them seated across the restaurant. Madge Stewart was standing in front of their booth with her back to Diane, speaking in an animated fashion.
It didn’t take her long , thought Diane.
She watched Madge’s gossip dance. It was like a tattletale pantomime. Vanessa said something to Madge. Madge’s body language changed. She stood still, like a scolded child.
Diane sighed and threaded her way through the tables toward the booth. She was almost there when Laura noticed her, smiled and waved with a little too much animation. Diane grimaced.
Madge
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