deep digging and he says in his email that he couldn’t get full answers, not just because of how far back it goes and there not being people around who are familiar with it, but also that much of it is still classified.”
Now Blum looked shocked. “Whoa, classified? What kind of bar was this place?”
“It was a sting operation, set in place by the IC,” said Pine, referring to the American intelligence community.
“A sting operation? At a bar? Who were they looking to ensnare?”
“From the little Stan could find out, he believes it had to do with international spies.”
“They named the place Cloak and Dagger? Didn’t they think that was a bit obvious?”
“He asked someone with knowledge of it, and they said it was supposed to be tongue-in-cheek. There were other bars sprouting up around that time with catchy names and themes. You know, like old speakeasies where you enter through a hidden door after using a secret code or go into an old phone booth and call a certain number you’ve been given that opens some portal. The Cold War was still going on back then, though it was drawing to a close and the Berlin Wall would come down at the end of the decade.”
“Did they catch anybody?”
“Apparently so. Without naming names, Stan was able to determine that it was very successful.”
“But how does this tie in to your parents? And why did your dad have those coasters?”
“Stan couldn’t find that out. No one would tell him the names of anyone who worked on it.”
“So…?”
Pine’s face turned ashen. “So I think it either comes down to my dad worked there and maybe helped the good guys bring down the bad guys.”
“Or?” said Blum nervously.
Pine stared despondently down at her hands. “Or my dad was a bad guy and went on the run and that’s how we all ended up here.”
Chapter 52
THE MORGUE.
Again.
Pine’s stomach was churning like it never had before when confronted with a dead body. The reason for this was obvious.
The dead person was a child.
She, Wallis, and Laredo were standing over the metal table where the boy’s remains lay.
The ME, the same woman as before, was on the other side holding an iPad in one hand and glancing down at the screen.
Blum had respectfully declined to accompany them today, for which Pine was grateful. A mother of six with over a dozen grandkids should not have to see this.
Hell, no one should have to see this.
“Cause of death?” asked Wallis, who looked downright nauseated.
“If you want the common name, it’s a Hangman’s Fracture,” said the ME.
“That would account for the odd angle of the neck,” noted Laredo.
“He died by hanging?” said Wallis. “So, asphyxiation?”
“No. The Hangman’s Fracture can lead to death by asphyxiation, but this boy wasn’t hung. The technical name for it is a fracture of both partes interarticulares of the axis vertebrae. But it’s really simply a catastrophic hyperextension of the spine emanating from under the chin. The result was his spinal cord was crushed between the C1 and C2 posterior elements. Death would have been instantaneous, or as close to that as it ever gets.”
“But how was it done?” asked Pine.
“You see these sorts of injuries in car accidents, skydiving, even contact sports. You run into or hit something with your chin, but with the chin pointed up and the head arched back against the upper spine. If whatever you hit is unyielding enough and you hit it with enough force, it can snap your spine.”
“How do you think it was done here?” asked Pine.
“I can’t be certain but it’s more than a guess because of other bruising on the body. You see the chin is bruised and discolored. The jawbone there is actually cracked, and that’s not all that easy to do. It’s the strongest bone in the face.”
“Wait a minute,” said Laredo. “Could he have died in a car crash?”
The ME shook her head. “I don’t think so. You’d see some other indicators if that were the case. And with the sorts of restraints they have these days, you’d have to have your seat belt unbuckled. And if that had happened here, you’d be seeing a whole host of other injuries. But I can tell you this, whoever did it knew what they were doing. It was a clean break.”
“Maybe some military training?” ventured Wallis. “Gillespie was in the military. Maybe somebody who knew him back then and held a grudge.”
“Still no ID on the boy?” asked Pine, glancing at Wallis.
“Nothing