The Bone Chamber - By Robin Burcell Page 0,3

Academy is on line one for you.”

“The American Academy?”

“In Rome. Professor Francesca Santarella.”

“Do me a favor. Take a message and tell her I’ll get back to her.”

“You sure you don’t want to take it?” Zach asked. “I can wait.”

She shook her head. “I contacted so many academic types on that dig that I can’t recall if I should know the name. And the way I feel right now, I don’t have the energy to keep playing my part.”

Definitely stressed. He wondered if perhaps they were asking too much of her. “Tell me again about the Egypt trip.”

She glanced at her computer, then back at him. “As I explained on the phone, more dead ends. If Carlo Adami set up that dig to cover for something, then he did a damned fine job. It looked like the real thing to me. Alessandra even thought so.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Every person on the team was some sort of scholar. Frankly, I think Adami set up the dig as a way to deflect attention from something else. Maybe somewhere else. I was there for two weeks. The only weapons I saw were small-caliber pistols by the night security guards. As for a makeshift lab? Nothing in the vicinity that we could see. They definitely weren’t shipping anything in or out. If there were any bioweapons, they were well-hidden among the artifacts being dug up, most of which would fit in the palm of your hand.”

“And no idea why Alessandra left the dig for the States?”

Her gaze flicked to the box on her desk as she shook her head. “Alessandra said she wanted to check on some archeological facts.”

They’d gone over all this before, but he was worried that maybe they’d missed something that might tell them what had happened to Alessandra. “What sort of facts?”

“I wish I could remember,” Tasha said, looking troubled. “Something about three keys…The third key? Whatever it was, she said not to worry, that it was archeological research. Some biblical thing, I thought.”

“Third key? You didn’t mention that the first time.”

“It was just such a strange conversation. At the time it meant nothing. Do you think it’s important?”

He gave a shrug, brushing it off. “When did you last hear from her?”

“She called while I was still in Egypt, but I didn’t get the message until several days later.”

“That’s what I don’t like. No one’s heard from her since.” He rested his hand on top of the box. “And now there’s this.”

She didn’t move, simply stared at the box. And even though she was a forensic anthropologist, and she had dozens more boxes like it on the shelves behind her, it was apparent that this one got to her. Was it really necessary to do this?” she said. “A skull in a box?”

“If you saw her, yes. The pathologist is the one who insisted we had to go this route. Bring the skull to you. Trust me, we tried everything else.”

“Maybe there’s another way. Surely DNA…?”

“She was adopted.”

“What about her apartment?”

“Unfortunately, the cover story we thought would buy us time actually created a few problems. In theory, telling everyone that she was sent home to her father’s, and wasn’t expected to return back to UVA anytime soon, should have worked. We didn’t take into account that her roommate, short on cash, figured to make a quick buck by subletting Alessandra’s room, or that her new tenant would carefully launder and box up the clothes left behind.”

“No toothbrush or hairbrush?”

“Alessandra probably had them with her. In hindsight, we should have created the cover story after we’d searched her room. But at the time, we didn’t believe she was dead.”

“What about dental records?”

“Still looking. Because of her father’s occupation, the majority of her dental history is spread about in countries that don’t keep such meticulous records. The records we found were inconclusive. We need a forensic sketch. If it is her, her father will want to—” He stopped, ran his fingers through his hair. “How did I ever let her get involved?”

Tasha looked up at Griffin. “Maybe her disappearance has nothing to do with this? Like I said, it was a legitimate dig. And maybe it’s not her in that box.”

“The boss wants something a bit more definitive than maybe it is or isn’t her. And if it does have to do with Adami, then we need to be careful. You’re absolutely sure this friend of yours will come through?”

“Someday you’re going to have to learn to trust someone else’s judgment.”

“I’ve gone that route.

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