The Apprentice: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

here?”
    “All canids, wild and domestic, behave in similar ways. Even coyotes and wolves like to play with balls, just like Fifi and Rover. Since these remains were in a suburban park, surrounded by residences, domestic dogs would almost certainly have frequented those woods. Like all canids, their instinct is to scavenge. They’ll gnaw on any areas they can get their jaws around. The margins of the sacrum, the spinous processes. The ribs and iliac crests. And of course, they’ll tear away any soft tissue that still remains.”
    Korsak looked appalled. “My wife has a little Highland terrier. That’s the last friggin’ time I let him lick
me
on the face.”
    Pepe reached for the cranium and shot Isles a mischievous look. “So let’s play pimp time, Dr. Isles. What’s your call on this?”
    “Pimp time?”
asked Korsak.
    “It’s a term from medical school,” said Isles. “
Pimping someone
means to test their knowledge. To put them on the spot.”
    “Something I’m sure you used to do to your pathology students at U.C.,” said Pepe.
    “Ruthlessly,” Isles admitted. “They’d cringe whenever I looked their way. They knew a tough question was coming.”
    “Now I get to pimp you,” he said, with a touch of glee. “Tell us about this individual.”
    She focused on the remains. “The incisors, palate shape, and skull length are consistent with the Caucasoid race. The skull is on the small side, with minimal supraorbital ridges. Then there’s the pelvis. The shape of the inlet, the suprapubic angle. It’s a Caucasian female.”
    “And the age?”
    “There’s incomplete epiphyseal fusion of the iliac crest. No arthritic changes on the spine. A young adult.”
    “I concur.” Dr. Pepe picked up the mandible. “Three gold crowns,” he noted. “And there’s been extensive amalgam restoration. Have you done X rays?”
    “Yoshima did them this morning. They’re on the light box,” said Isles.
    Pepe crossed to look at them. “She’s had two root canals.” He pointed to the film of the mandible. “Looks like gutta percha canal fillings. And look at this. See how the roots of seven through ten and twenty-two through twenty-seven are short and blunt? There’s been orthodontic movement.”
    “I didn’t notice that,” said Isles.
    Pepe smiled. “I’m glad there’s something left to teach you, Dr. Isles. You’re beginning to make me feel quite superfluous.” Agent Dean said, “So we’re talking about someone with the means to pay for dental work.”
    “Quite expensive dental work,” added Pepe.
    Rizzoli thought of Gail Yeager and her perfectly straight teeth. Long after the heart ceased to beat, long after the flesh decayed, it was the condition of the teeth that distinguished the rich from the poor. Those who struggled to pay the rent would neglect the aching molar, the unsightly overbite. The characteristics of this victim were beginning to sound hauntingly familiar.
    Young female. White. Well-to-do.
    Pepe set down the mandible and shifted his attention to the torso. For a moment he studied the collapsed cage of ribs and sternum. He picked up a disarticulated rib, arched it toward the breastbone, and studied the angle made by the two bones.
    “Pectus excavatum,” he said.
    For the first time, Isles looked dismayed. “I didn’t notice that.”
    “What about the tibias?”
    Immediately she moved to the foot of the table and reached for one of the long bones. She stared at it, her frown deepening. Then she picked up the matching bone from the other limb and placed them side by side.
    “Bilateral genu varum,” she said, by now sounding quite disturbed. “Maybe fifteen degrees. I don’t know how I missed it.”
    “You were focused on the fracture. That surgical pin’s staring you in the face. And this isn’t a condition one sees much anymore. It takes an old guy like me to recognize it.”
    “That’s no excuse. I should have noticed it immediately.” Isles was silent a moment, her vexed gaze flitting from the leg bones to the chest. “This does not make sense. It’s not consistent with the dental work. It’s as if we’re dealing with two different individuals here.”
    Korsak cut in, “You mind telling us what you’re talking about? What doesn’t make sense?”
    “This individual has a condition known as genu varum,” said Dr. Pepe. “Commonly known as bowed legs. Her shinbones were curved about fifteen degrees from straight. That’s twice the normal degree