Mercurial Dreams Read online

  We drove down what could only be described as a track on the hard-baked ground. Erosion marks were visible on the dunes, but I didn’t know if it was wind or water erosion. I dug into one of the bags and pulled out sunscreen. I slathered up and passed the bottle to Lucas. I grabbed a long sleeve shirt next and pulled it on. The dashboard display said it was 87 degrees inside the car, but my shirt made it feel hotter. Sweat began to form in the small of my back, around my neck and under my arms. I was glad I had worn a good deodorant.

  Next, I pulled out the zinc oxide. I covered my ears, my nose, my cheeks and my eyelids. I didn’t think the sun would get to any of these places, but better safe than sorry. I finished by adding lip balm with sunscreen.

  The others in the car were doing the same thing. Except Gabriel, who was driving and fighting with Xavier. Xavier was trying to cover Gabriel’s entire face with the zinc oxide. Streaks of the thick, white cream trailed down Gabriel’s arms. Lucas put my hat back on me.

  The SUV stopped. Gabriel left the motor running. Lucas and Xavier began to move about the car. The temperature began to climb. The dashboard now told me it was 90 degrees inside the SUV. My jeans were starting to stick to me from sweat.

  “Once we get out, it will feel cooler, but don’t be fooled by it,” Xavier said, climbing into the back hatch area. Lucas opened the door and got out. I followed him.

  It did feel cooler. It also felt sunnier. The sun was instantly beating down on me, making my double layer of shirts cling to my skin. The sweat ran faster, heavier, soaking more of my clothing. I lit a cigarette, unwilling to care what Xavier said about it. If I was going to bake to death in this sun, then I was going to have a cigarette while I did it.

  Gabriel had put on a hat as well. He came over, took my cigarette and handed me a bottle of water. I stared at the water like it was a snake. Moisture beaded on the outside of the bottle and dripped down to the desert floor. It created an irregular shaped circle of darkness. The dark spot on the desert floor lasted maybe a second, nothing more, before the color lightened and any hint of moisture was gone. Gabriel took a drag from the cigarette and pointed. I followed his finger. We were situated on a small ridge. The Racetrack Playa was below us. There appeared to be about thirty people working on the cracked playa floor.

  Some were trying to put flags into the baked ground. Some were trying to make marks on the floor. All of it seemed futile. This was not a country meant for man and its inventions.

  The generator was moved from the hatch area and onto the ground outside the car. Gabriel did something to it and it whirred to life. A window was arranged for the air conditioning to be vented and a cord ran from the unit to the generator. Xavier turned off the running SUV.

  “How long will it last?” Gabriel asked.

  “At least twenty-four hours. It will help, but it won’t be perfect. The SUV will probably get to about 85 with it running, maybe lower if we can find a way to darken the windows more,” Xavier answered. Water was already starting to drain from a hose stuck out the window. It fell in a steady stream onto the ground. The first couple of drops were absorbed, but after that, a small stream began to form. The ground was so unaccustomed to water, that it was easily saturated. The stream moved downhill, opposite the playa. I noticed an ambulance there, motor on, generator running outside, a stream running across the ground.

  “They have one too,” I pointed.

  “Good, we could probably use a few more,” Xavier pointed to the water in my hand. “Nothing too cold and don’t drink it fast.” He reminded me.

  I handed the water back to Gabriel. He stubbed out the cigarette on his boot and put the butt in his pocket. We began the descent into the Racetrack Playa.

  The bodies did look like medium sized rocks. Their misshapen and desiccated figures made them look more like rocks than bodies. However, unlike the Sailing Stones on the desert floor, not all the bodies had tracks behind them. The ones that didn’t have tracks were just being catalogued in photos and paperwork. Those that did were being given more attention. Stakes were placed where the tracks started and measured against the tracks of rocks nearby.

  Scientists tracked the movement of the Sailing Stones by the length of their trails. Each rock created a groove along the playa floor.

  Xavier already had on nitrile gloves and was examining the nearest mummy. His eyes and fingers explored the desiccated remains. I knelt down beside him, unsure of what else to do. He was frowning, as his fingers walked over the flesh.

  “Why are they still here?” I asked.

  “Unsure about moving them. If this is a crime scene and the bodies begin to decompose once they are moved to a morgue or other processing facility, then we could lose a lot of evidence,” Xavier answered.

  “Are they likely to start decomposing when we move them?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he answered. “Once they are subjected to a moist environment, they will probably begin to decompose quite rapidly. Unless there has been something done to the body to stop the process other than leaving it in the desert.”

  He looked around.

  “What?” I asked.

  “We are going to have to break this one open,” he said. “People are not going to like it.”

  “Break it open?” I asked.

  “Uncontort it. The fetal position is not good for examination,” Xavier answered.

  “Ok, how?”

  “You gently put pressure here, I’ll put pressure there and we’ll work at pulling it away from itself. If we are lucky, nothing breaks off,” Xavier shrugged.

  I thought about that statement as I put gloved hands on the body. I pushed gently on the shoulders while Xavier worked at the knees. Slowly it began to give way. There was a strange, dry, crackling and popping noise. Xavier fell on his back. I fell into the shoulders, landing inches from the chest. I was only a few millimeters away and it didn’t smell. There was a lot to be said for that.

  “Well hell,” Xavier said, getting up. I rearranged myself as well. My hand had gone through the chest cavity. I peered into the hole with a flashlight.

  “Are those lungs?” I asked.

  Xavier came over to me.

  “Yes,” he said. Others were running over to join us. Xavier reached into the body and pulled out something small and shriveled. He held it up and examined it. All the valves appeared to be somewhat shiny.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “That is a heart with artificial valves. We can identify the victim with them,” he moved it some. “There’s something really wrong with it though.”

  “Why?” Gabriel asked.

  “It feels heavy,” Xavier answered.

  Xavier handed it to me. It did feel heavy. The rest of the body had felt very light. This small thing felt like it weighed a good pound or more.

  “Could it be the valves?” Gabriel asked.

  “Some of it, not all of it,” Xavier motioned for me to move closer. I did. I held the heart while Xavier pulled out a small eye-glasses screwdriver, he forced it into one of the valves. Silver liquid suddenly spilled forth. It beaded on the ground and began to roll away.

  “Get that!” Lucas shouted to anyone. No one moved.

  “Mercury,” I said, looking at Xavier.

  “I think this is officially a homicide,” Xavier answered.

  “It is incredibly hard to kill anyone with mercury,” I told him.

  “Not if you inject it into their hearts,” Xavier answered. He closed the valve, saving any more of the precious liquid metal from leaking out. Xavier put the heart in a bag. He handed it to Gabriel. “Do not set it down.”

  Gabriel nodded once and held the bag out at arm’s length. I didn’t know if it was because it contained mercury or because it contained a human heart, no matter how deformed. However, either seemed like a possibility.

  “Ace, your flashlight,” Xavier said, pointing to the body. We began looking over the mummy. There were now two pieces to examine. Xavier was concentrating on the legs. He po
inted at a hole.

  “Could you have done it when we pulled it apart?” I asked.

  “No, I wasn’t touching there,” he pointed towards the thigh. “I was pulling at the ankles.”

  “Then what is it?” I asked.

  “Honestly?” Xavier looked at me.

  “Of course,” I frowned.

  “I think it’s where he drained the blood.”

  “But the heart had mercury in it,” I reminded him.

  “True, but mercury doesn’t move like blood. Mercury enters the heart, somehow, stops it from beating. The smaller vessels and arteries collapse, the large vessels and arteries are blocked by the mechanical valve. The mechanical valve doesn’t move because it is dependent on blood flow. Morticians remove mechanical valves before embalming because it will close up the heart and lead to faster decomp,” Xavier told me.

  “I didn’t know that,” I said.

  “Some more useless knowledge to add to your already at-capacity brain,” he gave me a quick smile. “I’d say the other bodies will be completely bloodless and mercury free.”

  “Does that help us?” I asked.

  “Not really. However, it does provide us with a clue,” Xavier looked out over the playa. “Mercury injected into the blood stream is incredibly painful. It causes arteries to collapse and it causes contortions. It might be why all these bodies are so misshapen.”

  “Mercury is thicker than blood,” I told him. “It wouldn’t move that easily through the body. I can tell you lots of uses for it historically, but none would lead to death like this.”

  “Mercury is toxic, but it isn’t deadly in small doses or in elemental form,” Xavier countered.

  “I know, you die from poisoning via compounds, not from the actual mercury,” I said.

  “Which brings this killer to a whole different level,” Xavier stood and shook his head. “I don’t know how they are being mummified, but I’d bet dollars to donuts that mercury is the cause of death for all of them.”

  “Mercury?” Gabriel sighed. “That means serial killer.”

  Gabriel turned from us and started shouting orders to other people. Xavier looked at me.

  “Feel alright?” He asked.

  “I’m hot, but otherwise, I’m fine. My bones don’t creak in the dry desert heat,” I said.

  “That’s good, because I imagine we are going to be here for a while.” Xavier looked out over the playa, “I’m hoping Gabriel didn’t just jump the gun. One guy with mercury in his heart is a murder, but it isn’t a serial killer. We need at least three bodies for that.”

  Five

  Sociopath or not, autopsies are gross. The bodies smell. There are all sorts of things that come out of it that make me want to gag. I’m not a fan of dead things anyway, they creep me out.

  These autopsies were not normal. They didn’t smell like decomposing bodies. No fluids or other things ran out. There were no insects and nothing made me want to gag.

  They did smell, like leather and sunshine, if you can smell sunshine. They were dusty. Occasionally sand or salt fell out of a hole, but that was about as gross as it got. The internal organs were all desiccated and dry. They didn’t look like internal organs, most looked like odd stones.

  Xavier was currently weighing something that he said was a liver. I was going to have to take his word for it. It looked like a prune to me; a very dried out prune, but still a prune.

  There was a cut in the chest. From it had poured not sand, but some kind of salt. It was currently sitting on a table, in a bag, waiting to be tested. I had looked at it for a long time and decided it probably wasn’t table salt, but couldn’t go much further with my analysis. I knew enough about chemistry to be dangerous. This meant I could make a bomb and throw stuff into water and watch it catch fire, but I couldn’t identify most chemical compounds based on texture, color and smell alone.

  Xavier was still talking into a tape recorder. He motioned for me to help him. Pulling apart the bodies was interesting. We had tried rehydrating a few of them. This had failed miserably and the leathery skin had just sloughed off under our touch instead. Now, we were trying, still unsuccessfully, to gently pry them out of their death positions. This body had legs bent up nearly touching its head.

  One leg separated at the hip and Xavier sighed, letting go of the body and the severed limb and tossing his glasses down on the table.

  “What’s up Doc?” I asked, fighting to not do a Bugs Bunny impression as I said it.

  “I’ve never tried to straighten mummies and it isn’t really in any of the books I’ve read. Breaking them doesn’t seem to be the best solution. Soaking them didn’t help. I’m out of ideas.”

  “Maybe we need to know how they were mummified,” I said.

  “I know how. Not everything coming out of them is sand. Some of it is salt, sodium carbonate decahydrate, also known as soda ash, is among them and I’m not sure potassium chloride isn’t in there as well. The salt seems to be kind of pinkish. I don’t know what that does for the body except kill it, but it’s a salt and all salts are absorbent. And that bag is probably filled with borax.”

  “So what does this tell you?”

  “It screams buried in a salt pit, but the Racetrack is not a salt pit, despite being a dry lake bed.”

  “And the rangers would have noticed someone trying to dig into the playa.”

  “Exactly,” Xavier sighed again. “The only thing I can come up with is that someone buried them somewhere else and then moved them after they had been mummified. However, where the initial crime scene is or where the bodies were buried is beyond me. Half the states around here have salt flats.”

  “Yes, but do they have potash, soda ash and borax?” I asked.

  “Well, Death Valley has all three, just not all in the same areas. And the potash could be a human component.”

  “I know,” I shrugged. “I was trying to be an optimist.”

  “It doesn’t suit you,” Xavier said, he looked back at the second broken mummy.

  “It isn’t going to rise and attack you.”

  “I’m hoping I notice something different if I look at it from different angles. If it hadn’t been for the heart full of mercury, I would have said they died from blood loss and the contortion came during mummification. I’m still leaning towards serial killer, but there’s still a part of me that says it isn’t.”

  Xavier picked up his cell phone. He put it on speaker.

  “Why do people create mummies?” He asked when Lucas answered.

  “To preserve loved ones or people for different reasons,” Lucas answered. “Ask Ace, she’d know more about mummies than me.”

  “Only antique mummies,” I said. “I don’t know why people do it now, except that it is kind of cool.”

  “Cool,” Lucas repeated. He seemed to be weighing the word. “Anyway, aside from Ace’s fascination with mummies, the only reason I can think of is to preserve people. That’s kind of the purpose of mummies.”

  “I need a morgue assistant,” Xavier sighed.

  “I thought that was my job,” I said.

  “You suck at it,” Xavier answered.

  “Maybe not,” I looked at the phone. “Still with us?”

  “Yes, but not for long if you two don’t stop arguing.”

  “Ok, I think we are missing the elephant in the room,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” Xavier asked.

  “While mummies might preserve people, they also make them lighter,” I pointed to the scale. “I don’t remember exactly, but a liver weighs more than eight ounces.”

  “A healthy human liver should weigh about three pounds,” Xavier said.

  “And a healthy woman would weigh around 120 pounds?” I asked. “Our woman only weighs about thirty pounds. It’s a whole lot easier to move thirty pounds. I know emptied mummies, i.e. with the organs removed weigh between five and ten pounds. Ramses the II only weighed about seven pounds and he was pretty strapping when he was alive.”
r />   “You think they were mummified because it made them weigh less?” Lucas asked, voice tinny as it echoed through the exam room from the phone.

  “Makes sense to me,” I said.

  “I can’t think of any better reasons at the moment,” Lucas finally said.

  “Unfortunately, neither can I,” Xavier hung up. “Maybe you don’t suck quite as much as I thought. I just can’t believe with that massive brain you can’t think of a way to rehydrate the body.”

  “Sorry, I think you’ll just have to disarticulate them and go from there,” I said.

  “I hate disarticulating bodies,” Xavier said.

  “As least they aren’t going to spray you with blood and gore. And it isn’t like there was going to be an open casket funeral for any of them to begin with.”

  “You really are becoming an optimist,” Xavier looked at the closest mummy. “I’ll get the bone saw.”

  “I’ll get away from you,” I moved to the corner of the room.

  “Why are you standing back there?”

  “Bone dust, skin dust, sand, silica, borax, do you want me to continue?”

  “You have a mask and a helmet.”

  “Bone splinters,” I said.

  Xavier shook his head and turned on the bone saw.

  “Wait!” I held up my hands.

  “What?” Xavier powered down the saw.

  “Do you have to cut them? I mean their dry, won’t they just pull apart?” I pointed out.

  “You want me to pull apart the bodies?” Xavier asked.

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “They aren’t chickens, Ace.”

  “They are dry, Xavier. The joints are not going to be held together by tendons and things. We’ve already broken two of them.”

  “It damages the skin.”

  “And cutting them apart doesn’t?” I gave him a look.

  “I sort of see your point. I’m not sure I agree with it. But I see it.”

  “Besides, if we disarticulate them manually, we can catalogue any injuries we find and cause as we go. Something you can’t do with a bone saw.”