Doctored Death

by P. D. Workman

  “And it must have affected you pretty deeply.”

  “Their divorce?” Kenzie didn’t offer that she hadn’t even known about it when they got a divorce. They were already leading very separate lives. All that had been left was the division of their property.

  “No, I mean when your sister died. It must have been pretty horrible for you.”

  “It was.” Kenzie snuggled into Zachary’s side and he put his arm around her. “It totally changed my life. Her dying and... everything that happened around that. That’s when I decided I was going back to school. To go into medicine.”

  He nodded as if it were perfectly normal for her to decide to become a doctor after losing her sister to kidney disease. But he didn’t know all the details. And there was the fact that she had gone in with a focus on death and forensic investigation rather than living patients. That wasn’t normal. Plenty of people went into medicine to save the people who represented the loved ones they had lost. Not so many went into it to track down killers, whether human or pathogen.

  40

  Monday morning, Kenzie went through all the work that Dr. Wiltshire had done on the body from the motel, noting the samples he had taken, the tests he wanted to be performed, and any other questions or concerns that he wanted to follow up on. She played back the recording of the postmortem, jumping to the point when she had left, and then listening to the items he had dictated, and not the silence in between. It wasn’t quite the same as finishing the autopsy with him, but it was pretty close.

  She applied labels and sent the various packages out to the labs where they would be processed. While it would have been nice to be a part of one of the big cities where they could do a lot more of the processing in-house, that wouldn’t have afforded her the same opportunities as working for Dr. Wiltshire, where she could learn at his feet and get hands-on experience. As a tech or receptionist for a big medical examiner’s office, she wouldn’t have been able to do those things.

  Dr. Wiltshire was later than usual getting into the office. Which might have had something to do with the fact that he was still catching up on sleep. Or he might have had an early meeting he hadn’t mentioned to her.

  She was well into her desk work when Dr. Wiltshire arrived. He nodded and greeted her cordially, as usual. “Feeling better today?”

  “Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” Kenzie told him. “It was good to just take yesterday off.”

  “Glad to hear it. You needed a break. And you’ve started in on our new guest?”

  Kenzie nodded and summarized what had been sent out and the status of his dictation.

  “I was thinking about how we’re going to identify him,” she confessed. “No face or teeth. No fingerprints. No tattoos, though he does have a large birthmark that might help. We can’t just rely on missing person reports. We don’t even know where he is from. He was checked into a motel; he could be from another city or state, even another country. And unless someone is looking for him here, we don’t have a lot of leads on identifying him.”

  “The police are doing what they can. We’ve ordered DNA and we can hope that it triggers a match in the offender database.”

  “I was reading about this forensic artist out in Montana...”

  “Given the state of his skull, I’m not sure we could ever reconstruct a face for our latest John Doe.”

  “She doesn’t use bone structure. She uses DNA.”

  Dr. Wiltshire had been looking toward his office. He turned back to look at Kenzie, frowning. “She uses DNA to do what?”

  “To do forensic DNA phenotyping. Using the genes to construct a picture of the victim. They do it for unknown suspects too. In this case, we’ll at least be able to tell her hair and skin tone without her going from the DNA.”

  “That can’t be very accurate.”

  “She does some great work. I’ve been looking at their website. Hang on, let me show you some of the pictures.” Kenzie quickly typed the URL for EvPro into her browser and brought the site up again. “Look at this... here are some examples of the pictures she generated and the actual subject.”

  There were various samples, ranging from the criminals they had caught to the victims they had identified and blind tests for demonstration purposes. Dr. Wiltshire lowered his glasses and looked at the screen as she showed him the comparisons.

  “Obviously, they are only going to put the best matches on their website, but these are remarkable.”

  “Some of them, she generated several pictures, you can see the others if you click...” Kenzie demonstrated, fanning out a stack of pictures on the screen so that Dr. Wiltshire could see the portfolio of faces that the artist had created, with varying ages, weights, and hair or facial hair styles.

  “Amazing. I had no idea that our DNA science was to the point that we could do this.”

  “The website says that they are the only company that has established protocols for epigenetic data as well as genetic data. So they can more accurately predict age, diet, and other background factors that help to produce a better representation.”

  “That can’t be established science.”

  “Not established, no. Cutting edge. Experimental, maybe. But they seem to be able to produce a really good product.” Kenzie raised her eyebrows in a question. “What do you think?”

  “There is probably a pretty hefty sticker price.”

  “Well, there is, but it’s not that much more than we would pay for other tests. And if it will allow us to identify a subject that we wouldn’t otherwise be able to...”

  “It would have to go up the chain for approval. Why don’t you find out what you can? Talk to this artist. Find out what the options are, how long it would take, what their match rate is like. Something that we can present to the detectives in charge of the case to show that it’s a reasonable expense. Then if they want to pursue it with their sergeant...”

  Kenzie nodded. It would take time to work its way up the chain of command to either get a yes or a no. It would be best to get started on it right away before the case went cold. “Sure. I’ll find out more. They’ll have brochures and presentations too, I’m sure.”

  “New technology is always a hard sell. Don’t be disappointed if you don’t get it in this case. We’ll probably have to present it as a possibility on several different cases before they decide it’s well enough established that they’ll risk it.”

  Kenzie nodded. While she wanted to see if forensic DNA phenotyping would work, and this was a perfect case to try it out on, she would have to be patient. Sometimes it seemed like the cops she worked with were back in the dark ages as far as the technology was concerned.

  Dr. Wiltshire went on to his office to start on his day’s work, and Kenzie clicked through screens to find the contact information for EvPro. There wasn’t anything about their artist on the website, so she would have to go through the main switchboard. Kenzie called the company and explained to the young woman who answered the phone what she was looking for.

  “That would be Micah Miller,” the receptionist told her politely. “I’ll put you through. If she doesn’t answer, please leave a message. She doesn’t like to be interrupted, but she will return calls.”

  Kenzie waited while the phone rang through. Maybe she wasn’t going to get to talk to the artist after all. Until she wasn’t busy, whenever that was.

  The phone rang several times and there was a click. Preparing a message in her head, Kenzie was surprised to hear a live voice rather than a voicemail greeting.

  “Micah here.”

  “Oh. Micah. Hi. I asked the receptionist who does the forensic DNA phenotyping in your company, and she put me through to you.”

  “Yes,” Micah agreed briskly. “That’s me. Are you familiar with what forensic DNA phenotyping is?”

  “I’m a doctor, and I read through the information on your website. So I get the basics.”

  “Great. What’s your name and email address?”

  “Uh...” Kenzie was surpris
ed at the request. She faltered for a moment before giving Micah Miller the details.

  “I’ll send you an intake package,” Micah promised. “What evidence do you have? Blood?”

  “Whatever you need. I work with the medical examiner’s office.”

  “Fresh body? Not a cold case?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. That sounds good. I’ll need as much background on the subject as you can give me. Even stuff that seems irrelevant. Every little bit can help me to generate a better picture for you.”

  “I will. It’s just... I don’t know yet whether we’ll have the approval to use you. I wanted to ask some questions about the cost, time turnaround, match rate, things like that. So I can present a case.”

  Micah let out an impatient breath. “You’ll find all of that in the intake package.”

  “Okay... can I ask if you’re the artist, the person who actually does the pictures?”

  “The computer generates an initial composite, which I then alter based on different possibilities for hairstyles, dress, that kind of thing. And then I render them with colored pencils so that they look more lifelike.”

  “Are you the only one in the company who does it?”

  She could hear Micah typing in the background and wondered if she had already lost interest in the conversation and was moving on with something else while she tried to get Kenzie off the phone.

  “Why do you want to know?” Micah asked.

  “Well... just curiosity. I was looking at the pictures on the company’s website, and I wondered whether you do all of them or whether you have a pool of artists.”

  More keyboard tapping. Kenzie closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck, waiting for Micah’s response.

  “The reason my name and information are no longer on the website is that I have been targeted in the past,” Micah said. “I don’t want to be the bulls-eye for everyone my pictures helped to put behind bars.”

  “Oh. I never even thought of that.”

  “I see your name on the medical register in Vermont and listed as a staff member at the Medical Examiner’s Office.”

  She’d looked that up pretty quickly. “Yeah. I’m not a stalker, I promise,” Kenzie laughed.

  “That’s exactly what you would say if you were.”

  “But you can see from my credentials that I am not.”

  “I can see that you’ve assumed the identity of someone at the Medical Examiner’s Office, anyway. I’ll call you back.”

  Kenzie looked down at her phone and saw that Micah had disconnected. She shook her head at Micah’s abrupt manner and looked at her screen to determine her next task for the day. A few seconds later, the main line started ringing. Kenzie looked at it, but it wasn’t the caller ID for EvPro in Montana.

  “Medical Examiner’s Office, Kenzie speaking.”

  “Yes, I’d like to speak to Dr. Wiltshire.”

  Kenzie raised her brows at the familiar voice. “Hello, Micah.”

  “Hi. So I guess you are who you say you are.”

  “I am,” Kenzie agreed. “Do you still want to speak to Dr. Wiltshire?”

  “I don’t think there’s any need to bother him.”

  “What number are you calling me from?” Kenzie asked curiously. “That’s not even a Montana area code, is it?”

  “With cell phone plans now, you don’t need to live in the area that your phone number is in. I got an out-of-state number to make it more difficult for people to identify me. For cases like this when someone is asking too many questions.”

  She really was paranoid.

  “I’m sorry for asking too many questions. I was just very interested in what it is that you do. All those pictures on the website... if all of them are yours, you have certainly been involved in a lot of cases, and your phenotypes are very lifelike. I can see how helpful they would be in narrowing down suspects and identifying victims.”

  “Thanks. I’m sorry for being so suspicious, but... they broke into my house, attacked me, kidnapped me, put me in the hospital. I can never let my guard down.”

  Kenzie blew out her breath in a whistle. She knew a little bit about what kind of effect an experience like that could have on a person. Zachary had not been the same person since his kidnapping. He tried, but he wasn’t the same. Someone could argue that he should have been tougher because of the traumas he’d been through as a juvenile and not have been so affected by it. But it had brought to light a lot of bad stuff he’d previously been able to bury.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all of that.”

  “Thanks. I am the only artist with the company. All the phenotyping that you see for the past three-plus years is mine. I’m a forensic scientist as well. One of the lucky few who can combine both art and science in my job.”

  “You do an amazing job of it. I’m very impressed.”

  “Tell me about your case,” Micah suggested, sounding more relaxed and willing to talk with her.

  “We have a victim who needs to be identified. Checked into a motel using a pseudonym, no ID or credit card. Severe injuries to the face, so we can’t identify him by facial recognition or dental match. Tortured before he was killed, no recoverable fingerprints.”

  “A good case for phenotyping. You can give me a lot of the features; I only have to do the facial structure.”

  “I guess so, yeah.”

  “You can tell me hairstyle and color, age, height and weight, skin tone, how he dressed. Normally I don’t have those details and have to get them from the genome or epigenome, or to hypothesize based on where the body was found, cultural background, that kind of thing.”

  “Right. We do know all of that already.”

  “In fact, you might be able to get an ID even though you don’t have his face. Once a missing person report shows up.”

  “I figure from the fact that he was staying in a motel that he might be from out of town or even farther afield. So we might not ever see a missing person report, even if one is filed.”

  “Well... I’ve sent you the introduction and intake file, so have a look through there, show it to your guys, and if you get approval to go ahead, fill it all out and send me some blood.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks for your time, Dr. Miller.”

  “Micah. You’re welcome. Look forward to working with you if the expense is approved.”

  Again, Micah hung up without an actual goodbye. Kenzie shook her head, bemused, and checked her email inbox for the package.

  41

  Things were pretty quiet the rest of the week. Kenzie caught back up on her pending projects, and nothing untoward happened at work or at home. It was Zachary’s week for individual therapy, so she didn’t have to be there. She felt like she was on top of everything.

  “Did you put a rush on the virology for Mr. Cartwright?”

  Kenzie looked up from her work. Dr. Wiltshire stood in front of her desk, looking down at his tablet, puzzled.

  “No...” Kenzie frowned, shaking her head. “Did you want me to? I didn’t think there was any need to expedite it... I know they’re pushing you to make a finding, but I didn’t know you wanted it rushed.”

  “No, I didn’t. I’m just surprised to see results back already. The lab is always backed up. Someone must have put a flag on it for some reason, because I never see results back this quickly unless it’s a high-profile case with a rush on it and feds standing around with their hands out.”

  Kenzie chuckled at the mental picture. “So was there anything interesting? Is it all of the virology, or only the blood?”

  “I don’t even see the bloodwork. Just the later test for the brain tissue.”

  Kenzie straightened, bracing herself for whatever the tests showed. Helpful or another dead end? She laced her fingers together, waiting. “Well...?”

  Dr. Wiltshire grinned. He was clearly enjoying drawing it out, making Kenzie wait for the punch line.

  “Well, let’s see here...” He tapped his screen. “I’
m always all thumbs operating this thing...”

  Which Kenzie knew wasn’t true. He needed a hand getting something straightened out every now and then, but he was actually pretty good at it most of the time. He was just teasing her.

  “Why don’t you give it to me?” she suggested, putting her hand out. “I’m sure I could figure it out.”

  He laughed. His eyes started scanning back and forth and he read through the results of the report he had opened. Kenzie was quiet, waiting.

  “Remarkably clean, considering his age and the fact that he’s dead. The blood-brain barrier did what it was supposed to, keeping invaders out of the brain.”

  “So, nothing?”

  “There was one virus in the brain tissue. An active infection, from what they could tell.”

  “Great!” Kenzie felt like punching the air in celebration. “Maybe that’s our answer. Was it one of the herpesviruses?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “How is it yes and no? Either it’s a herpesvirus or it’s another virus family.”

  “It is a herpesvirus. But not one of the ones that you suggested. Human Herpesvirus 4.”

  “HHV-4,” Kenzie said slowly. She tried to remember if she had read anything in the studies she had looked at about HHV-4 having anything to do with amyloid plaque production. But she didn’t remember seeing it in any of the medical journals. So had they made a new discovery, or were they on the wrong track? “That’s Epstein Barr Virus, isn’t it? The one that causes mono?”

  Dr. Wiltshire, still looking at the report, nodded. “Apparently, that isn’t the full story, though.”

  “Was there another pathogen?” Sometimes it took several viruses together to take down a person’s immune system. And that’s how viruses mutated, one virus borrowing a sequence from another virus present in the same host. Recombining to form something that hadn’t been seen before, something that no one had an immunity to.