a lot of missing-person reports around here, and the ones we get, they usually show up later on their own.”
I sighed. “So it’s kind of a dead end,” I said.
“Looks like it.”
“Deputy Drago, Studsburg had a mayor. I don’t know who he was or where he moved to, but he would probably know everyone who lived in town. And the priest, Father Hartman. I’m sure he’d remember everyone in his parish. Or he’d know where the records are kept.”
“Right you are, ma’am. We’re a pretty modern office up here, and we’re looking into everything, I promise you.”
“I’m sure you are. I didn’t mean to imply that youweren’t.” I felt a little guilty. Sometimes when you have a connection to the New York Police Department, it’s easy to feel that any other law enforcement group is inferior. I hoped he wouldn’t feel insulted.
“So you just let us do our job, and if anything turns up, I’m sure you’ll hear about it.”
I thanked him and hung up. I didn’t think I’d hear about anything without a prod.
I stayed downstairs till ten and watched the news on several channels. Sure enough, the story had reached New York. Standing before a large seal, and flanked by the American flag and some other flag I didn’t recognize, the coroner appeared in a brief clip announcing the surprising finding that the mystery body was that of a young woman. Lights flashed as he spoke, and seemed to infuse him with spirit. He was a rotund man with jowls and little left of his hair, but his pleasure at being in the spotlight was evident.
In a separate, briefer clip, the sheriff, in full regalia, announced that a thorough search had begun to learn the identity of the body, starting with dental records. And, I thought sadly, probably ending with them.
I taught my class on Poetry and the Contemporary American Woman on Tuesday morning and then drove home, thinking about the woman. What if she had a perfect set of teeth and had never seen a dentist? What if the records were gone? How could a young woman so anger someone that he would kill her?
Besides the possibility of identification through dental records, there was one other thing in favor of discovering the woman’s identity. If anyone in the area remembered a young woman missing thirty years ago, all the publicity would surely awaken those memories. Perhaps it was best to wait and see what happened.
Jack called Tuesday evening when he got home. “Not bad,” he said when I asked him about the test. “Just a hellof a lot of work studying for it. I really needed yesterday. You get that upstate murder solved yet?”
“I have not yet begun to investigate,” I paraphrased, “and I probably won’t.”
“If I know you, you’re champing at the bit to dig into some old files.”
“I wouldn’t even know what files to look for, Jack. The sheriff’s office is sending X rays of the woman’s teeth to local dentists, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s a dead end after so many years. And Maddie’s parents are sure no one from Studsburg was missing after Maddie’s baptism. So if it wasn’t a Studsburger, how are we ever going to put a name on her?”
“You’ll think of a way,” he said lightly.
“The truth is, I’m troubled that the coroner and the sheriff are using this to promote themselves. I keep imagining this poor dead girl as a person, someone who had something to do with Studsburg and met her death there, a violent, planned death.”
“That’s the way sheriffs and coroners act, honey. They don’t live exciting lives like mine, so they—” My laughter stopped him. “You making fun of my exciting life?”
“Just enjoying the image. Listen to me, Jack. Suppose the day I left St. Stephen’s, someone had stopped my car and killed me and hidden the body. No one in Oakwood would miss me, because no one knew me and no one knew I was coming.”
“Your friend Sister Joseph would call, and eventually, when she couldn’t find you,