Preservation

by Charles Lemoine

  “Okay, give me the Cliffs Notes version.”

  Mariska turned and looked the man in the eyes. His bright, beautiful blues were framed in the most lush, dark eyelashes she’d ever seen on a man. Why did men always seem to have such amazing lashes? She blinked away her wandering thoughts and forced herself to focus.

  “Basically, I was successful in getting the tooth to the Genetics Department at the university for DNA analysis. While I was there, we discovered a long red hair in the pouch where the tooth and beads had been stored inside the La Brea Woman’s skull.”

  “Oh, really? Who do you suspect it belongs to?”

  “No idea, but the director, Dr. Tora said there was a good root bulb so DNA shouldn’t be too difficult to extract and analyze.”

  “That’s great.” Wulf cocked his head to the side when he saw Mariska wasn’t smiling. “Right?”

  “Yeah, it’s good, but there wasn’t a sample to compare it too. So basically, we’ll learn the ethnic heritage of the person, but unless there is a sample on file, we won’t find out the identity.” She shrugged. “And, I gave them a sample of my own hair.”

  “To compare with the red hair?”

  “Not, exactly. I mean, sure they will most likely cross-reference them, but I was more interested in finding out who I am?”

  The understanding dawned on Wulf—Mariska saw it in his eyes. And from his silence, it was also clear he didn’t quite know what to say.

  She continued, “Since I was found in a dumpster as an infant, I haven’t the foggiest idea of who I am. It would at least be nice to find out where I get my blue eyes and super dark hair from. Don’t you think?”

  He nodded. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I came from well-documented, German immigrants who came to America looking for a better life in the early nineteen-hundreds. They started in the Midwest and migrated to California in the sixties. Pretty straightforward as immigration goes. You know the Germans, very specific, always keeping track of everything.”

  They shared a laugh.

  “I guess. I wouldn’t know.”

  Mariska’s honesty tasted bitterness in her mouth, and Wulf’s sudden cessation of laughter made her feel bad she was being such a downer. A long awkward silence followed.

  “Anyway, I’m hoping to have the DNA analysis sent to me within a day or two. Dr. Tora was going to make it priority number one, and she was more than competent to do the job.”

  Wulf patted her. “Fingers crossed that you get the answers you’re looking for.”

  Mariska held up both hands and crossed her fingers. “I’d be nice to have some answers for a change. I seem to have way more questions than answers.”

  “I know the feeling. That’s pretty much how it works being an investigator. I never know anything for a certainty at the beginning of each case.”

  “But it seems that every time I get an answer, something happens and I lose all the proof of it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The bank accounts I told you about before I left for Copenhagen. I had all that information on the computer that is now missing. My hotel was ransacked before I could leave the country. Not that it would have survived the Danish Straits.”

  “Oh, God. I still can’t believe you went through all that.” After a moment, Wulf shrugged and said, “Do you want the good news?”

  “There’s good news?”

  He hurried out of the room. A few moments later, reemerging with a laptop of his own. “Before you left, I copied and transferred files from your laptop to mine.”

  “How and when did you do that?” Her voice raised, a bit more than she’d intended.

  “Maybe one of these days over a nice dinner or wine, we can exchange stories.” He winked, and she smiled with one eyebrow raised. “It’s my job.”

  He’s pretty sneaky, isn’t he? She thought.

  “Okay, show me what you got.” Mariska feigned annoyance and bumped him in the ribs with her elbow and rolled her eyes. “All this buildup, I want it to take my breath away.”

  He turned his head slightly to the side, eyes locked with hers, and raised both eyebrows. Was that naughtiness in his eyes? At that moment, Mariska could see herself wrapped up in his arms, under the sheets. She swatted him on the arm.

  “I’m talking about the computer,” she said, feigning shock and embarrassment.

  Wulf smiled, broad and genuine. The more she blushed, the happier he seemed. Was she making a connection with this guy? Not now, Mariska.

  He turned his computer a bit to the side so they could both look at the computer screen. Wulf double-clicked on a folder on the desktop, and after it opened, she realized what it was. The same icons she’d seen on the laptop she’d gotten back from Badger. One was labeled La Brea Woman, and the other held the bank deposit files. He opened that folder, and she saw her father’s name, along with Katherine Wellington, and Peter Grassland.

  “Now,” Wulf said. “Do you remember how there was a mystery-number that was depositing large sums of money into these accounts?”

  “Yes?”

  “I found out what that number is, or at least what it represents.” Wulf clicked on the identification number: 9q5dptqjn.

  Once it was highlighted he copied it into the Google header and pasted it, followed by GEOHASH coordinates. The screen zoomed out to show a revolving globe of the Earth. As it turned and zoomed in on California, it became clear.

  “Those are like GPS coordinates?”

  “Sort, of,” Wulf said. “I had Theresa explain it to me, but she said something about Geohash being a geocoding system invented by some guy name Gustavo. Anyway, it was placed into the public domain, and it’s a bit more complicated than GPS coordinates that we are all familiar with.”

  Mariska felt her second wind, and she pulled the computer off his lap and onto hers. “So, basically it’s a lesser known system by which people can locate anything on Earth? Theresa sure knows a lot of techy stuff.”

  “She really does,” Wulf said and looked away for a second. “There’s some inconsistencies with her background…nothing illegal, but there’s something not quite right.”

  “I hope that once all this is over with, I’ll have more time to get to know her. She’s a good woman, and I can see myself being friends with her.”

  “She’s an interesting gal, that’s for sure. I’ll keep digging into it.”

  She playfully swatted him in the arm again. “Let people keep their secrets if they aren’t dangerous ones. Now, getting back to the geohash thing?”

  “Yes it’s some kind of grid patterning with a… how did Theresa put it? A hierarchical spatial data structure that subdivides space into buckets of grid shapes.”

  Mariska stared at him for a second. “Easy for you to say.”

  “Yeah, I have no idea what I said,” he chuckled. “Just like college, I put stuff to memory that meant nothing to me. I just remember it for the test.”

  “Well, you passed.” Mariska clicked on the state of California and watched as the map zoomed into the exact spot marked by the geohash coordinates. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “What is it? Do you recognize it?”

  “Ingrid Ashton’s home.” Mariska turned the computer to face him.

  On the screen was an aerial view of the old woman’s sprawling estate.

  “I wonder what her connection is to all of this?” Wulf asked.

  Mariska felt a new sense of anger welling up inside her. If this old bitch had anything to do with Jane’s death, she’d better start praying Wulf got to her before she did.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The cell phone felt hot against Mariska’s ear as she listened to it ring. Again, she was sent to voicemail. She’d been trying to reach David for the past hour, without success. She needed to play it cool. David didn’t know she was on to him yet so she would still have the element of surprise.

  “Where are you?” Mariska said under her breath.

  It’d been
days since she’d spoken to him, and she couldn’t remember the last time that’d happened. A heaviness in her chest threatened to force out pent-up emotions she wasn’t ready to deal with. Jane’s death continued to weigh heavy on her soul not to mention her best friend’s betrayal. Normally, she’d be spending time with her parents, talking out their feelings, working toward a resolution or at least a long heart-felt hug where she would be free to break down. But things were still strained between them.

  Normally, the next best thing would be to spend an evening spent with David. He ultimately knew what to say to either cheer her up or at least put her mind onto other things. But that’d never happen again.

  Another failed attempt, ending with her being sent to his voicemail. She turned off the phone and laid her head down on the feather-pillow on the bed. She was tired but too worked up to nap.

  Her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Fumbling with the phone to answer it as quickly as possible, she didn’t even look to see who was calling.

  “David?” Mariska said as she answered the phone.

  A short silence followed. She took a second to look at the phone display. Detective Wulf.

  “No, it’s me,” Wulf said. “Why the hell would you be expecting a call from him?”

  “Well…I don’t think he knows I’m on to him. It’s keeping with my normal pattern to call him and try and hang out.”

  “Yeah, but he’s a wanted man.” Wulf’s irritation was coming through the phone loud and clear.

  Fine, she thought. I’ll try to do it your way. There was still a part of her that hoped she was dead wrong about David. It’d be like losing a brother if he was indeed the monster everyone suspected.

  “I’m glad you called.” Mariska changed the subject. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

  Silence met her ear.

  “Did you need something?” she asked.

  “I’m calling to see how you’re doing. I can’t believe you insisted on going back to your apartment.”

  “Why?”

  “I would have thought you’d feel a bit safer staying with someone.” Wulf cleared his throat. “I’d be happy to take you to your parents’ house.”

  “I’ll be fine here. The door has a new lock on it, and I have a lot here to do.” The apartment was still a mess, and she needed to coordinate some new flooring and painting work.

  “Would you like some help?”

  The immediate flutter in her chest surprised her. Was he looking for reasons to spend time with me? Or, was he just doing his job?

  “Thanks, but I’ll be all right.” She sat up in bed. “I promise if anything happens out of the ordinary…you’ll be the first person I call.”

  He didn’t say anything at first. “Sounds good. I’ll check on you later.”

  “Thank you.”

  Just before she could hang up, he said, “Oh, and if you hear from David…will you let me know? Please?”

  “Definitely,” she said—meaning it.

  She and Wulf hung up the phone, and she was immediately met by another incoming call. This time, it was from a number she didn’t recognize. Could Badger be calling?

  “Hello?” Mariska said.

  “Dr. Stevenson?” It was a female voice.

  “Yes, this is her.” Definitely not Badger. “Who is this?”

  “Dr. Tora, from the University of Copenhagen.”

  “Oh my god. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon. Before you say anything else…how is Eddie?”

  “Edgar is doing well. He’s out of the hospital…strong kid, that one.”

  “Wonderful. I’m going to forever be in his debt for saving my life.”

  “So, I’ve heard,” Dr. Tora said, a sense of pride entering her voice. “I’m lucky to have him as part of my research team. He’s a remarkable young man.”

  “Did they catch the goon that attacked us?”

  “Unfortunately, no. When the campus security showed up, Eddie was lying in a pool of his own blood, knocked out cold. But being a research institute that we are…I collected samples of blood myself to aid the investigation. We are currently processing the DNA from them as we speak.” Dr. Tora took a deep breath and continued, “Hopefully, we’ll get a match on Interpol.”

  “Fingers crossed.” She took a deep breath. “So, did you call me because you have answers about the DNA analysis from the hairs and tooth?”

  “Yes, and I think you’ll be pretty interested in the results.”

  Mariska’s heart began to race, and she felt butterflies wrestling around inside her belly. “Give me one second; I want to grab a piece of paper to jot down some notes.”

  She rushed from the bedroom and into the kitchen where she had a notepad and pen. Sitting down at the kitchen table, she steeled herself. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “I will also be sending you all the results in extensive detail to your email. There’s too much data to go over on the phone, but I will be sending you the results and the methodology used for their interpretation. Along with that will be spreadsheets containing the statistical analysis behind each interpreted result providing you with the exact percentage of error to certainty.”

  Flashbacks to statistical analysis and research methodology classes made her wish she’d paid a little more attention in class. Instead, she’d studied to pass these classes, rather than embrace the process.

  “That’s great, thank you,” Mariska said. “Give me the general idea, and I’ll download the email as soon as you send it.”

  “Let’s start with the tooth.”

  “Perfect.” Mariska tapped her foot with a nervous energy she couldn’t contain.

  “We were successful in drilling a pinpoint hole into the root of the unidentified tooth. Despite traces of asphalt that had seeped deep into the tooth, the DNA was viable and was quite simple to process.”

  “Great.”

  “We then put it into the database at the University, which also compares samples from nearly all private and public research and educational databases held worldwide. We came up with no definitive match.” Dr. Tora’s voice fell flat, a hint of disappointment staining her matter of fact demeanor.

  “So, where does that leave us? Were you able to glean anything from the sample?”

  “Of course. We didn’t fail.”

  “Lay it on me, Doctor.” Mariska sat poised with the pen. The word TOOTH the only thing she’d written on the page.

  “The tooth is from a previously unidentified primate.”

  “Primate?” Mariska said. “Are you certain?”

  “With an absolute certainty. But we weren’t able to classify it further. Another analysis ran through the computer looked at prehistoric bone and tooth samples that DNA samples were extracted and processed within the last fifty years.”

  “And? Anything match?” Mariska asked.

  “Gigantopithecus. Or, at least what they suspect to be him. The bones were found years ago and recently tested for DNA. Those results were in our database.”

  Mariska’s heart raced with excitement. She couldn’t even write the creature’s full name down on the paper before her mind went wild with possibilities. Gigantopithecus had been thought of as a myth for centuries. Legends from native peoples living in China, India, and even Vietnam had told tales of this creature inhabiting the dense jungles and wooded areas of the regions. Unfortunately, acidic soils of heavily forested areas, rarely leave behind skeletal remains, let alone fossils. Then, recent discoveries in China changed all that. Bones from the legendary creature turned up, and DNA had been extracted. Sure enough, primate, extinct, but placed as recently as one hundred thousand years ago.

  This tooth could change everything.

  “So, Gigantopithecus was in the America’s, possibly as recently as fifteen-thousand years ago?”

  “Dr. Stevenson, as you know conclusions such as that would be premature. Years of research are warranted,” Dr. Tora said. “Now, keep in mind, the DNA is closely related to Gigantopithecus,
but is not an exact match.”

  Bigfoot.

  It had been widely speculated for years that Gigantopithecus, was actually the famed Bigfoot, which had been relegated to the pseudoscientific cryptozoology community. Often, pushed aside by the mainstream scientific communities and educational institutions as folklore and legend.

  “Of course,” Mariska said. “Very interesting results. I can’t wait to get my hands on the DNA analysis and start my own research.”

  A sudden nausea overtook her as she realized she wouldn’t be able to conduct any research unless she was cleared of wrongdoing by the investigation. She’d be damned if she was going to miss out on an opportunity such as this.

  “Thank you so much, Dr. Tora.”

  “I haven’t even gotten to the most interesting part, yet.”

  The hair samples. Even more interesting than the tooth?

  “Oh, yes. Please, continue.”

  “Again, all the sample information and mathematical processing will be included with the email I’ll send you as soon as we hang up. The red-hair had a very nice root-bulb, and the DNA was easily extracted. We were able to determine the ethnic heritage which was a combination of Scottish, Irish, and German. The sample came from a female of undeterminable age…however, by the condition of the hair shaft and dry root-bulb, it’d been inside the pouch you found it in for decades.”

  “Okay.” Mariska wrote the information on the notepad. “What’s the interesting part? You said this was better than what you found from the tooth.”

  “It’s a matter of how you look at it, I suppose.” Dr. Tora paused for a moment. “We compared it to your DNA. There was a statistical match indicating a familial connection.”

  “What?” Mariska’s stomach surged into her throat. “Say that again.”

  “We were able to determine that the red-hair belonged to your maternal grandmother.”

  A sharp intake of air, Mariska’s hand went to her mouth. She tried to speak, but her throat was tight, painful. She cleared her throat. And then again.