Preservation

by Charles Lemoine

  “Have you examined the inside this pouch?” Dr. Tora asked.

  Mariska shook her head. “Actually, no. I haven’t. Why?”

  “Look at this.” Dr. Tora inverted the woven fabric, turning it inside out. “There’s a long red hair, interwoven into the threads of the pouch.

  “A red hair?” Mariska moved over to get a closer look.

  Sure enough, a long red hair had embedded itself into the pouch. Was it from the La Brea Woman? Surely not. Maybe it was from whoever owned the pouch and found the beads and tooth?

  Dr. Tora reached for a tweezer and with a steady, trained hand, extracted the hair on the first attempt. She held it under the light of the magnifying glass. “We’ve got a rootball.”

  “Rootball?” Mariska asked.

  “The hair can be DNA tested. The root system is intact,” Eddie said. “We would still be able to do it without the root, but we would be limited. There are three types of DNA that can be gleaned from the root, but only one from the hair shaft.”

  “So, what are you telling me? Can you identify who the hair belongs to?”

  “Not without a comparison sample…unless there was one already in a database somewhere to compare it to.” Dr. Tora flipped on a few machines as she prepared the area for analysis. “Otherwise, we will run the DNA test and can tell you the person’s heritage. We can also keep the information on file for future comparison.”

  Mariska’s excitement continued to grow. This could be a game-changer for her. “Please run the DNA test on the hair. It might help me in the future. Might as well do it while we are here.”

  It suddenly dawned on Mariska. Could she have them run her own DNA? She knew virtually nothing about herself. She was found outside the museum in the dumpster as a newborn infant. Her heart rate increased as the possibilities grew.

  “One more favor,” Mariska said to Dr. Tora. “Can you run a sample of my own hair?”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a really long story.”

  Dr. Tora eyed her for a moment. It was difficult to read her expression considering she was covered by a mask and goggles. “Against my better judgment.” She motioned for Eddie to turn his back and they turned away from Mariska.

  Mariska quickly pulled up on her cap and yanked out a few hairs. “Oh, would you look at that?”

  The other two turned back around, and Mariska held up her hair, root-balls intact. “I found these hairs too.”

  “Place them on here.” Dr. Tora laid a clear glass dish in front of her. “Eddie and I will run the tests on the tooth and hair samples. You might as well take the bead with you and wait outside.”

  “How, long do you think it’ll take?”

  “Long enough that you should find something to keep yourself busy for a while. The results won’t be available for a few days, but the tests will be completed in a couple hours,” Dr. Tora said. “The longest part is waiting for the computers to do their jobs.”

  Mariska hesitated. Eddie smiled with his eyes. “We’ll take good care of the tooth. I promise.”

  Mariska took the bead, placed it back into the pouch and headed for the exit. “I’ll be in the library. Will you come and find me when you’re done with the experiment?”

  Eddie nodded. “Of course.”

  “Thank you, both.” Mariska turned to leave. A pit of anxiety formed in her gut as she walked away. She turned back once before going into the negative pressure room and saw the two scientists hard at work.

  Let them do their jobs, Mariska. This is the only way to get the answers you want and need. She stepped into the negative pressure room and pushed the red button. A rush of air blew away all the tiny particles that had collected on her suit but did nothing to clear away her worry and uncertainty.

  Now, which way was it to the library?

  Chapter Forty-One

  The University of Copenhagen library was amazing. The sheer volume of books and knowledge that was contained in this one room was overwhelming. Mariska wasn’t sure where to start looking or even what she was looking for, exactly. She started by meandering down row after row of the first floor of the library. Each book she pulled from the shelf was in a language she didn’t speak. Better keep looking. A ladder situated at the end of a particularly interesting row that contained some very old books looked like a great place to climb.

  She scaled the ladder, all the way to the top shelf. Pulling at random, she selected one rather thin and dilapidated book. Despite Mariska’s inability to read French, she found that it dated back to the seventeenth century. Climbing back down to the ground, she held the book in her hands, closed her eyes, and imagined the man that had written it. He must have been someone of importance, or at least influential in whatever field he worked, to have his book saved and passed down for future generations.

  These ancient volumes on various topics, in diverse languages, were the fossils of the written language. They were of great historical value and taught us so much about the process of science and what it meant to be human.

  Mariska scanned the surrounding area to see if she was being watched, before putting the book to her nose and inhaling. It had the undeniable old-book smell—an intoxicating sweet, grassy, mustiness that made any true bibliophiles’ toes curl.

  Hugging the book close to her chest as if it somehow imparted its history and experiences to her through osmosis, she looked for a nice quiet place to sit. At the end of the long aisle, Mariska stopped and looked around. There was a comfy chair that was empty in the far back corner of the room. Perfect.

  She settled down into the chair when her phone buzzed with an incoming text message. It was from David asking her to call him. Mariska’s stomach sank with guilt. She’d left in the middle of the night, without so much as a goodbye. She was about to text him back but hesitated. What would she tell him? If he knew she was in Copenhagen, he’d freak out and tell her parents. His concern for her wellbeing would override his ability to see things from her point of view. He’d be thinking he was doing the right thing, but he’d ruin everything. No, she would call him tomorrow, from the airport on her way home. Better send him a text, though, or he will worry.

  Hey David, I can’t talk right now. All is well. I’m taking a spa day today. I’ll call you tomorrow.

  A spa day? That does sound nice, Mariska thought.

  Her mind drifted to Detective Wulf. She wondered what he was up too, had he found out anything pertaining to Jane’s murder? Had he made headway in the theft investigation? Had he come any closer to clearing her name so she could have her job back? Mariska selected his number from the contacts list and put the phone to her ear.

  Detective Wulf answered on the second ring. “Mariska? Are you, okay?”

  “I’m good. I made it to the University without any trouble.” Omitting the frightening cab-ride to the hotel, she figured, a little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

  “Great. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you pretty much all day. When are you coming home?”

  “Tomorrow, evening,” Mariska said. “But by the time I get back to Los Angeles, it’ll be the next day. Jetlag is going to kick my ass, I have a feeling.”

  “I didn’t get all that…breaking up…” Wulf said—the connection was bad. It amazed her that technology existed to look at and analyze DNA strands in bones of extinct creatures, but she couldn’t get a clear phone call on the cell phone to save her life.

  “I’ll be leaving Copenhagen, tomorrow night.” Mariska raised her voice and spoke a bit slower.

  She heard sounds of static and no verbal response.

  “Hello?” Mariska said, looking at her phone to make sure she was still connected. “Can you hear me?”

  “…didn’t get all…” Static. “I have to tell you something…important…” Static. “David…”

  David? “What about, David?”

  “You have…be…danger—” Wulf’s words were cut off.

  “Is David in trouble?” Mariska sat up straight in the cha
ir. “Wulf? Hello? Is David in some kind of danger?” She looked at the phone again, it’d disconnected. She tried to call him back, but couldn’t get the call to go through. “Dammit.”

  Was that why David had asked her to call him? It didn’t matter to her now if he knew where she was. Her heart raced as thought about the possibilities. Was he, okay? Plugging in his number on the phone, she placed a call to him. No signal. “Shit.”

  Mariska stood and started wandering around the library in a desperate attempt to get a signal. Nothing. Maybe she needed to go outside? Still holding the old book in her hand, she shoved the phone in her pocket and hurried down the aisle to return the book to its proper place. She climbed to the top and slid the book into place. As she turned her head to start her decent, she froze. At this height, she could see the entire first floor of the library. How could this be?

  The man that’d attacked her in her apartment was creeping down the row of books at the far end of the library. He was wearing a black leather jacket and dark blue jeans. His aviator sunglasses obscured part of his face, but she’d recognize that thick neck and mean-looking, dumbass face anywhere. He must have seen her enter the library, but didn’t know exactly where she was. How the hell did anyone even know she was in Copenhagen, let alone at the University Library? The cabbie had warned her yesterday, that she’d been followed. Mariska scanned the room for an exit. Spotting one at the far end of the room, her stomach sank. She would have to pass by the goon to make it outside.

  She watched as he ducked around the next aisle, headed in her direction. She descended the ladder on shaky legs. Instinctively, she touched her front pocket where she’d been keeping her artifacts and last remaining link to the La Brea Woman. Her hand came up empty. That’s right; she’d left them to be analyzed in the lab. A new panic set her heart racing, and a deeper pit tore its way through her insides.

  Fuck. She wasn’t going to leave them behind, either. A plan formed. Sneak past the bad guy, make it to the lab, retrieve her belongings and head straight for the hotel. If she could barricade herself inside the room, she should be able to hold out until tomorrow evening, when her plane was scheduled to return home. Simple, right?

  Running to the end of the aisle, she snuck a peek around the end. She didn’t see him. This time, she crouched low, and looked around the end and waited until she saw the man sneak around his own aisle on his way toward her location. A minute passed in agonizing slowness. But sure enough, the man popped his head around the side. He looked left, then right, before heading down the next row of books. He was no more than fifty feet away from her and closing. Mariska looked up and down the aisles. The far end of each row, butted up against the wall, so there was only one way in and out of each one. The goon, once again, looked around the end of the row across the aisle, now four rows away. She was running out of time.

  She hurried back down to the end of the row, against the wall. She knelt down to the floor. No way could she make herself inconspicuous enough for him to overlook her. That’s when it dawned on her. It was all about timing. The bottom shelf had fewer books on it than the mid and upper shelves. Frantically, pulling out books and placing them on the shelf above and to the side of her she cleared away a section of books wide enough for her to fit in. Reaching through to the other side, she pulled books from that side as well, placing them out of the way.

  Mariska climbed into the cleared space, fitting inside well enough that she wasn’t sticking out on either side. All she had to do was wait until he passed her row, then sneak back out and wait at the end of the row. As soon as he moved another row down, she would have a minute to run to the exit before he reemerged. It’ll work—it had too.

  Fear escalated as she waited for her moment to move. The sound of her heart beat loudly in her ears, and she wasn’t sure no one else could hear it. She held her breath a moment and shifted just enough to the left to see past a book on the shelf in front of her. Her body flinched when the goon stepped into view. Trying to make himself look less conspicuous, he would step around into the next row of books, look up and down the center aisle and then pretend to look at the shelf of books—but only for a moment. Then he began the process all over again. Systematically, making his way through the library. Almost nothing escaping his notice.

  The man lowered his glasses on his nose as she looked up and down the center aisle once again, before moving to the next row—this time to the row she was directly across from. He paused, looking down her row, longer than the others. Had he seen her? Something must have looked off to him. Mariska felt dizzy, and she slowly let out the breath she hadn’t remembered holding. She dug her nails into the sides of her thighs, but barely even felt it. Her breathing quickened as he stood looking down the aisle. What could she do? There was nowhere else to hide or run.

  Like a cornered animal, she felt the fight or flight response taking over her logic centers of her conscious mind. Everything in her told her to run. Run for your life, Mariska. But wouldn’t that mean certain, capture? Hold still. Remain silent, she thought. A moment before she rolled out from the shelf and ran down the aisle, screaming for help, the goon returned to his normal pattern. He looked up and down the center aisle and moved down to the next row. Sweet relief washed over her. There was still a chance of surviving this.

  A minute later, he moved down another row, and she slid out from the bottom shelf. Sneaking down the row, she waiting until he moved one more row to the right. Run like hell, Mariska told herself. And, that’s exactly what she did. Willing her legs to move she thundered down the middle of the library, heading straight for the street level exit. Without turned to look behind her she hit the exit door with a thunderous clap of metal on metal. The door swung open, and she barely slowed as she made a wide turn out into to the street.

  Remembering the way to the concrete, windowless building that housed the lab, she ran full steam ahead. Her legs started to burn with sudden burden being placed on them. This was the right way, wasn’t it? Mariska lost a half step of speed as she contemplated the possibility of going the wrong way. As she passed the large building on the left, the University Lab came into view. Located mid-block on the left, the tall, grey concrete building looked like a beacon of hope. She was almost there. A few more steps and she’d be at the front door.

  Stumbling the last step, she caught herself on the door. Out of breath, she pulled on the door-handle. Instantly felt sick. It was locked. The keypad situated next to the door blinked red. She looked and felt around for anything that looked like a doorbell, but came up empty-handed. Looking up the street, she saw the goon emerge from the library exit in the distance. He took a moment before he spotted her and then started running in her direction. Frantically, she started tapping in series of numbers into the security pad.

  Nothing.

  Pounding her fists against the door with all her might, she started to shout at the top of her lungs. “Let me in.” Mariska’s voice cracked with emotion and pitch. She continued to pound her fists as she looked on in horror. The man was coming, fast. There was nowhere to go. She could run, but he would overtake her.

  Back against the door, she prepared to fight. Fists balled up at her sides; she glanced around the ground looking for something heavy she could wield.

  Nothing.

  Her heart pounding feverishly in her chest, she wanted to cry. She wanted to scream but knew she needed all her strength to fight the incoming threat. Mariska took a step away from the door, and put up her fists, widening her base of support, just like her mother had told her to do if she needed to fight.

  Then, suddenly, without warning, she heard the door behind her unlock with a click. She turned as the door opened inward, and Eddie stepped out through the opening. Without a second of hesitation, Mariska threw herself through the opening, pushing Eddie down to the floor. Sprawled out on the floor, she used her legs to kick the door closed behind her. It shut with a life-saving slam, followed almost instantly by a pounding of fists. The enemy had been mere
steps behind her.

  “What the, hell?” Eddie said as he peeled himself off the tiled floor.

  Mariska had already scrambled to her feet. There wasn’t time for an explanation. She grabbed his hand and started pulling. “Take me back to the lab, or we’re all dead.”

  “What?” He pulled himself up with Mariska’s help.

  “Take me, now. Dammit, Eddie just do what I’m telling you.” Mariska started pulling him down the hallway as the furious sounds of pounding grew more intense.

  There wouldn’t be much time before someone either heard the commotion out front or had to leave the building. Once one of those two things happened, Mariska would be out of time…with nowhere to go.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Mariska repeatedly pushed the red button on the locker room wall that led into the lab.

  “You have to put on the containment-suit before you can go into the Clean Lab,” Eddie said as he slid his legs into the light blue plastic jumper. “No one will unlock the negative pressure room until they see the suit…trust me.”

  Mariska blew out a huff of air in annoyance. “Fine.” She reached for the nearest clean suit and started putting it on.

  Once they were both fully gowned up with the jumper, goggles, head cap, mask, foot covers, and gloves, Eddie pushed the button. The door slid open, and they entered the negative-pressure room. Waiting for the rush of air in all directions made Mariska tap her foot with the impatience of a child waiting to open their Christmas gifts. A rush of air to the face followed by a flashing green light signaled her wait had come to an end. The door slid open behind her, and she and Eddie hurried over to the back table where Dr. Tora typed commands into the computer.

  “Oh, good,” Dr. Tora said as they arrived at the workstation. “I am almost done with the tests.”