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ove fast on these lonely secondary roads。 Besides； he felt good： he had just sold a Case 2388 bine with a six…row corn head and chaff…spreader bin extension for 120；000。 That was his third for the season and it had earned him a trip to San Diego for a weekend of booze and bumping uglies at the Del Mar Blu。 Hot damn。
At one point the road widened briefly； and the car shot past a group of shabby ruined houses； a row of two…story brick buildings； gaunt and roofless； and a grain silo； its upper half listing over a weed…choked railroad siding。
〃What is this？〃 Pendergast asked。
〃Crater； Kansas。 Or I should say；was Crater； Kansas。 Used to be a regular town thirty years back。 But it just dried up； like so many others。 Always happens the same way； too。 First； the school goes。 Then the grocer's。 Then you lose the farmers' supply。 Last thing you lose is your zip code。 No； that's not quite right； last to go is the saloon。 It's happening all over Cry County。 Yesterday； Crater。 Tomorrow； DePew。 The day after that； who knows？ Maybe Medicine Creek。〃
〃The sociology of a dying town must be rather plex；〃 said Pendergast。
Hoch wasn't sure what Pendergast was getting at and didn't risk a reply。
In less than an hour； the grain elevators of Garden City began rising over the horizon like bulbous skyscrapers； the town itself low and flat and invisible。
〃I'll drop you right off at the hospital； Mr。 Pendergast；〃 said Hoch。 〃And hey； I'm sorry about whoever it was that passed。 I hope it wasn't an untimely death。〃
As the orange…brick hospital appeared； surrounded by a sea of shimmering cars； Pendergast replied； 〃Time is a storm in which we are all lost； Mr。 Hoch。〃
It took Hoch another half an hour of fast driving； with the windows down； to get the creeps out of his system。
Sheriff Hazen； wearing a surgical smock that was two sizes too big and a paper hat that made him feel ridiculous； stood and looked down at the gurney。 A toe tag was dangling from the right foot； but he didn't need to read it。 Mrs。 Sheila Swegg； twice divorced； no children； thirty…two years of age； of number 40A Whispering Meadows Trailer Estate； Bromide； Oklahoma。
White fucking trash。
There she was lying on the steel table； butterflied like a pork chop； organs neatly stacked beside her。 The top of her head was off and her brain sat in a nearby pan。 The smell of putrefaction was overwhelming； she'd been lying in that hot cornfield for a good twenty…four hours before he'd gotten there。 The M。E。； a bright； bushy…tailed young fellow named McHyde； was bent over her； cheerfully slicing and dicing away and talking up a storm of medical jargon into an overhanging mike。 Give him five more years； thought Hazen； and the biting acids of reality will strip off some of that cheerful polish。
McHyde had moved from her torso up to her throat and was cutting away with little zipping motions of his right hand。 Some of the cuts made a crackling sound that Hazen did not like at all。 He fished in his pocket for a cigarette； remembered the no smoking sign； grabbed a nearby jar of Mentholatum instead and dabbed some beneath each nostril； and focused his mind elsewhere： Jayne Mansfield inThe Girl Can't Help It； polka night at the Deeper Elks Lodge； Sundays with a six…pack fishing at Hamilton Lake State Park。 Anything but the remains of Sheila Swegg。
〃Hmm；〃 said the M。E。 〃Will you look at that。〃
As quickly as they had e； the pleasant thoughts went away。 〃What？〃 Hazen asked。
〃As I suspected。 Broken hyoid bone。 Make thatshattered hyoid bone。 There were very faint bruises on her neck and this confirms it。〃
〃Strangled？〃
〃Not exactly。 Neck grasped and broken with a single twist。 She died of a severed spinal column before she could strangle。〃
Cut； cut； cut。
〃The force was tremendous。 Look at this。 The cricoid cartilage is pletely separated from both the thyroid cartilage and the lamina。 I've never seen anything like it。 The tracheal rings are crushed。 The cervical vertebrae are broken in； let me see； four places。Five places。〃
〃I believe you； Doc；〃 Hazen said； his eyes averted。
The doctor looked up； smiled。 〃First autopsy； eh？〃
Hazen felt a swell of irritation。 〃Of course not；〃 he lied。
〃Hard to get used to； I know。 Especially when they start to get a little ripe。 Summertime's not good。 Not good at all。〃
As the doctor returned to his work； Hazen became aware of a presence behind him。 He turned and jumped： there was Pendergast； materialized out of nowhere。
The doctor looked up； surprised。 〃Sir？ Excuse me； we're…〃
〃He's okay；〃 said Hazen。 〃He's FBI； working on the case under me。 Special Agent Pendergast。〃
〃Special Agent Pendergast；〃 the M。E。 said； with a new edge to his voice； 〃would you mind identifying yourself for the tape recorder？ And throw on some scrubs and a mask； if you don't mind。 You can find them over there。〃
〃Of course。〃
Hazen wondered how the hell Pendergast had managed it； without a car and all。 But he wasn't sorry to see him。 It occurred to Sheriff Hazen； not for the first time； that having Pendergast on the case could be useful。 As long as the man kept with the program。
Pendergast returned a moment later； having expertly slid into the scrubs。 The doctor was now working on the victim's face； peeling it away in thick rubbery flaps and clamping them back。 It had been bad enough before； when just the nose； lips； and ears had been missing。 Hazen stared at the bands of muscle； the white of the ligaments； the slender yellow lines of fat。 God； it was gruesome。
〃May I？〃 Pendergast asked。
The doctor stepped back and Pendergast leaned over； not three inches from the stinking； swollen； featureless face。 He stared at the places； torn and bloody； where the nose and lips had once been。 The scalp had been peeled back but Hazen could still see the bleached…blonde hair with its black roots。 Then Pendergast stepped back。 〃The amputations appear to have been performed with a crude implement。〃
The doctor raised his eyebrows。 〃A crude implement？〃
〃I would suggest a superficial microscopic examination with a prehensive series of photos。 And part of the scalp has been ripped off； as you no doubt have noted。〃
〃Right。 Good。〃 The doctor sounded irritated at the advice。
Hazen had to smile。 The Agent was showing up the Doc。 But if Pendergast were right about this 。 。 。 He stopped himself from asking just what kind of 〃crude implement〃 Pendergast had in mind。 He felt his gorge rising and immediately turned his mind back to Jayne Mansfield。
〃Any sign of the lips； ears； and nose？〃 Pendergast asked。
〃The police couldn't find them；〃 said the M。E。
Hazen felt a surge of annoyance at this implied criticism。 The M。E。 had been at it all afternoon； making one snide ment after another about the shortings of Hazen's report and； by extension； his police work。 Fact was； by the time he stepped in； the state police had already royally fucked it up。
The doctor resumed cutting away at the earthly remains of Sheila Swegg。 Pendergast began to circle the table； looking first at one organ and then at another； hands behind his back； like he was viewing sculpture in a museum。 He got to the toe tag。
〃I see you have an ID。〃
〃Yeah；