Dr. Gleason continued, "And here are two more puncture wounds on his right forearm. No blood or corresponding holes on his clothing. Nor did I find a hypodermic needle in his possession, and I assume he wasn't medicating himself through his shirt."

I asked her, "What do you make of those puncture wounds?"

"You're the detective."

"Right." I thought that the first puncture wound was the one in the chest, through his clothing, which meant it was probably a sedative, administered while he was struggling, or maybe administered from an animal tranquilizer gun. If it's off-season, we just tranquilize them and relocate them. The other two, through the bare skin, were hypodermics, given to keep him sedated. I also wondered if it was sodium pentathol, truth serum, but I kept my thoughts to myself, and said, "I'll think about it."

She continued, "I want to show you two more things that lead me to believe there may have been some other unusual events or incidents leading up to the time of death."

We watched her move around the table toward Harry's head. Little Patty Gleason put her hands under Harry's shoulders and pushed his big torso forward into a sitting position, which caused some gas to escape. Kate drew a startled breath. Coroners, I've noticed, are not gentle with the deceased, and there's no reason why they should be, though I'm always surprised at how they handle a body.

I could see the entry wound now, dead center through his spinal column and in line with his heart. I tried to picture how it happened: Harry was probably still drugged and positioned on the trail, standing or kneeling, by a person or persons while the shooter stood close enough to get a perfect shot, but not close enough for the muzzle blast to leave burns or powder fragments. Or, Harry had been lying down someplace else when he was shot and then moved to the trail. But that was too amateurish, and any CSI team would see that.

In any case, he'd been shot in the back, and all I could hope for was that he didn't know it was coming.

Dr. Gleason was drawing our attention to something else. "Here. Look at this." She put her finger on Harry's right shoulder blade. "This is a discoloration on his skin, which is hard to identify. It's not a contusion, or a chemical burn, and not quite a heat burn. It could be electrical."

Kate and I got closer to the faintly discolored spot, about the size and shape of a half-dollar. It wasn't made by a stun gun, but I'd seen something like this made by an electric cattle prod.

Dr. Gleason was looking at me as I stared at the mark on Harry's shoulder. I said, "I don't know what it is."

She moved to the side of the table and unceremoniously pulled the blue sheet down to the end, exposing Harry's naked body.

She started to say something, but I interrupted. "Would you mind lowering the body?"

"Oh. Sorry." She pushed Harry's stiffening torso down on the table while I held his legs. I mean, I'm used to dead bodies, but they should be lying down, not sitting up. Kate, I could see, was borderline holding it together.

Dr. Gleason made her way down the length of the gurney. "Well-nourished, well-muscled, middle-aged Caucasian male, normal skin, except as noted, and also noted is that he hadn't bathed or shaved in a few days, which is consistent with some time in the outdoors and with his soiled clothing. Nothing I see here is remarkable until we get to his feet and ankles."

The three of us stood at Harry's bare feet, and Dr. Gleason said, "The soles of his feet are soiled, as though he'd been walking barefoot, but this is not outdoor soil or vegetation I see."

I nodded.

She continued, "I found a few fibers that look like rug or carpet fibers, plus you can see what looks like fine dust or dirt that you'd find on a floor. I understand he had a camper, and you should see if he had a rug in there, and take fiber and dirt samples."

I knew another place where I should take fiber and dirt samples, but the chance of getting a search warrant for the Custer Hill lodge was not good at this point.

I moved closer to Harry and said, "There are contusions on both ankles."

"Yes, there are. Plus abrasions. These are very visible, as you can see, and the only thing I can think of was that he was wearing ankle restraints-metal, not tape, or rope, or anything pliable-and that he struggled against them, or tried to run in them. That's why these contusions are so pronounced and so profuse." She added, "The skin is broken in two places." She noted, "I believe his boots and socks were put on after the ankle shackles were removed ... I believe he was barefoot when he had the shackles on. Look at the location of the skin abrasions and contusions."

Whatever happened to Harry in the hours before his death, it wasn't pleasant. Knowing him as I did, I was sure he wasn't a model prisoner, and thus the cattle prod, the apparent injections, and the ankle restraints. You did good, buddy.

Dr. Gleason said, "After I noticed these fibers on his feet, I looked over the rest of his body and found some fibers on his hair, and on his face. They could be from his knit cap, but that's dark blue, and these fibers are multi-colored."

I didn't comment, but apparently Harry had been lying down on a rug or a blanket.

Dr. Gleason added, "Also, there are fibers on his trousers and shirt, and his thermal underwear, and they, too, appear to be foreign to anything he was wearing when he was brought here. And I found four black hairs, all about two inches long. One on his shirt, one on his trousers, and two on his thermal underwear. I taped them to the fabric where I found them."

I nodded noncommittally. The less I said, the more Dr. Gleason thought she needed to explain to us, and she continued, "These were not the deceased's hair. In fact, these hairs, under magnification, did not look human."

Kate asked, "Dog hairs?"

"Maybe."

Kaiser Wilhelm?

Dr. Gleason concluded, "That's all that I found on the body that might be unusual."

Kate asked her, "Can you estimate the time of death?"

"Based on what I see, feel, and smell, I believe death occurred about twenty-four hours ago. Maybe less." She added, "The CSI team might find something that could narrow it down, and so might the medical examiner who does the autopsy."

I asked, "Did you remove the clothing and personal effects?"

"I did, with an assistant."

"Other than the animal hair and foreign fibers, did you notice anything else unusual?"

"Such as?"

"Well, unusual."

"No ... but if you sniff his clothes-especially his shirt-you might still detect a faint odor of smoke."

"What kind of smoke?"

"Smells like tobacco smoke." She noted, "I didn't find any smoking materials among his personal effects."

That's a lost art.

It is an article of faith among homicide detectives, forensic specialists, and medical examiners that the body will give up its secrets. Fibers, hairs, semen, saliva, bite marks, rope burns, cigarette butts, cigarette smoke, ashes, DNA, fingerprints, and on and on. There is almost always a transference between murderer and victim, and victim and murderer. All you have to do is find it, analyze it, and match it to a suspect. The trick was finding the suspect.

I asked, "Anything else?"

"No. But I did only a cursory examination of the clothing and personal effects. I had an assistant present at all times, and I audiotaped my examination of the body and the personal effects. You're welcome to the tape when it's copied."

"Thanks." Apparently she knew this was a hot case.

"What's this all about?"

"You really want to know?"

She thought a moment, then replied, "No."

"Good answer," I said. "Well, you've been very helpful, and we thank you for your time, Dr. Gleason."

"Are you staying with the body?"