Dust to Dust

to see whether Marcella’s daughter will give us permission,” said Diane.
    “I’ll ask Jin to let me borrow Heckle and Jeckle,” said David. “He should be glad for the opportunity to work alone for a while.”
    “They aren’t so bad,” said Diane. “They enjoy research, so I’m sure they will be glad to help with the project.” She stood up. “You clear it with Jin and I’ll get Marcella’s permission.”
    Diane drove to the hospital. As she parked, she toyed with the idea of going down to the morgue to speak with Lynn Webber, but decided against it. She wasn’t sure what she would say to her. No doubt Lynn was getting quite a few calls anyway. Diane went up to the ICU waiting room. She found Paloma and her husband sitting on one of the small sofas. Both were reading paperbacks.
    “Oh, hi,” said Paloma.
    Diane greeted them, pulled up a chair, and sat down. “How is your mother?” she asked.
    “Much better. She’s speaking more easily. We are waiting for the next visiting time,” Paloma said.
    “No more one-word sentences to decipher,” said Mark.
    “That’s good. Have you spoken with Jonas, by any chance?” asked Diane.
    “Yes, he visited with Mother late yesterday. She thinks someone may be buried in her yard. Maybe the woman who lived there—she wasn’t real clear,” said Paloma. “I was afraid she may be, well, you know.”
    “Frankly, we didn’t give it much credibility,” said Mark, “but Jonas seemed to agree with her.” He cocked an eyebrow at Diane. “Is it possible?”
    “Possible, yes,” said Diane. She explained to them about the research project she would like to do in Marcella’s yard.
    “Mother would love it,” said Paloma. “Look, why don’t you go in at the next visiting time?”
    “I don’t want to take away from your time,” said Diane.
    “That’s all right. She’ll enjoy your visit. Mark and I can go down for some breakfast,” she said.
    Diane agreed and went in at the next scheduled visiting period. Marcella looked considerably better than she had the last time Diane saw her. She had more color in her face and her eyes looked brighter. She was sitting up, sipping broth through a straw. She smiled when Diane entered the room.
    “I want to thank you for your kindness to Paloma and Mark,” she said. Her voice was weak, but Mark was right; her sentence structure was much better.
    “I’m glad to be able to help,” said Diane. “I came to ask your permission to carry out an experiment in your yard.”
    Marcella smiled. She clearly liked the idea of experiments.
    “That sounds delightful,” she said. She took a sip of broth. “Jonas told me you found the sherds I was concerned about,” she said.
    “We did. That is what spurred the desire for the experiment,” said Diane.
    “Do you think someone is buried in my backyard? The note . . . I wondered if whoever wrote it was, well, murdered. I think there was some deranged artist living in the house and he may have done away with someone. What do you think?”
    “I think I’d like to take a look in your yard. We are always looking for better ways to detect buried human remains. David has wanted for a long time to have a place to take soil samples to run a chemical analysis to see if he can pinpoint locations where remains have been buried. He wants to try other methods too—resistivity, seismic—and make comparisons. I wanted to ask your permission,” said Diane.
    “Yes, I think that is an intriguing idea. We can perhaps solve my little mystery and get some scientific information to boot. A good plan,” she said.
    “Tell me,” said Diane. “How old do you think the writing on the desk is?”
    “The desk was under a lot of junk that hadn’t been moved in a very long time. I had an antiques dealer look at it. He thinks it is a handmade desk from the 1930s. If it helps, it had a buffalo nickel dated 1920 in one of the drawers. It was worth two dollars.” She grinned and took a sip from a cup of coffee on her tray. “I hadn’t finished looking into the pedigree of the house. I went to the historical society and spoke with a few old-timers who worked there. They weren’t much help remembering, but they gave me a computer printout of a picture of the front of the house from about fifty years ago. It hasn’t changed much. I was going to the courthouse next.”
    “I have someone searching the courthouse records,” said Diane. “Tell me about the three paintings on the living room