The high school had let out twenty minutes earlier. Susie Lancombe was grading papers at her desk. She was wearing a white lab coat over her normal clothes. Sheriff Connor entered, followed by Dr. Davis.

“Miss Lancombe?” said the sheriff.

Miss Lancombe looked up from the papers she was grading. She stood up.
“Sheriff Connor. Daniel. Is everything all right?”

“Not exactly, Susie,” said Dr. Davis. “We have a favor we'd like to ask of you.”

“Sure. Whatever I can do to help.”

The ambulance drivers were waiting in the hallway with the gurney on which the body lay. Sheriff Connor gestured for them to enter, and they wheeled in the headless body. The body was covered with a sheet.

Miss Lancombe's jaw dropped open, and she looked from Dr. Davis to Sheriff Connor. “What is that?” she said, pointing to the object on the gurney. “Is that a dead body?”

“Relax, Susie,” said Dr. Davis. “It won't bite.”

“I'm surprised that Principal Allbright allowed you to bring it in here,” she said.

“We came in the back way. He doesn't know.”

“This man was murdered,” said Sheriff Connor. “Dr. Davis thought you might be able to help us.”

“Me? I'm just a small-town high-school science teacher. Shouldn't you take this to the state police?”

“That's what I said,” the sheriff informed her.

“What is the matter with you people?” said Dr. Davis. “The universe has thrown us a challenge! Are we too timid to accept it? This is the first murder in this county in the last ten years. Where is the outrage that someone would do such a thing in our county?! Our home?! Isn't it our job to bring the perpetrator of this crime to justice? What kind of people expect others to do their job for them? This is our job, and we should embrace it!”

“I'm a science teacher. I'm pretty sure that examining dead people isn't a part of my job.”

“You dissect frogs don't you?”

“Yes.”

“Their bodies are dead when you examine them, aren't they?”

“Yes, but --”

“All right, then. This is just a big frog.”

“There’s a big difference between a dead little frog and a dead man who's been murdered,” said Miss Lancombe.

“Potayto, potahto,” said Dr. Davis. “Look, you've got the brightest scientific mind in the entire county. We just need you to help us figure out anything you can about this man so we can find out who he is, and who killed him. That's all. You won't be graded, and if you can't find anything new, I promise you it won't go on your permanent record. Susie, will you help us?”

Miss Lancombe looked at Sheriff Connor. He shrugged. She looked back at Dr. Davis.

“All right,” she said. “I'll take a look at it, but I'm not making any promises.”

“That's all I'm asking.”

The gurney was wheeled closer to Miss Lancombe. Her face had an anticipatory look of disgust even before she touched the sheet. She gingerly lifted the corner of the sheet where the head should have been.

“Uh, where's his head?”

“That's in the refrigerator back at my office. I'll have it sent over so you can look at it.”

“Please don't.”

Miss Lancombe pulled the sheet all the way down to the body's feet.

Dr. Davis said, “We need you to look for any particulates or insects or other clues that might help us identify this poor soul, or figure out who killed him.”

Miss Lancombe put on a pair of latex gloves. She reached into the cadaver's suit jacket and pulled out a wallet.

“How about this?”

“What is it?” asked Dr. Davis.

“It's his wallet,” said Sheriff Connor.

Miss Lancombe offered the wallet to Sheriff Connor.

“What? How could I have missed that?” said Dr. Davis.

The sheriff took a pair of latex gloves from the box from which Miss Lancombe had gotten hers. He put the gloves on, then he took the wallet.

“It was in his jacket pocket,” explained Miss Lancombe.

Sheriff Connor opened the wallet. “His jacket was open when you examined his chest, so you didn’t feel the wallet. When you flipped him over that part of his jacket was under him.”

“I'll have to remember that for the next time – if there is a next time.”

“I should have found it myself,” said the sheriff. “But when you insisted on finding the body without any help, I allowed that to distract me.”

Sheriff Connor finished looking through the wallet. “His name is Albert Fricklebacher. He's from Arlington, Virginia, and according to his business card he sells health insurance for pets. Have you got a plastic bag?” he asked Miss Lancombe.

“Yes, I do,” she said. She went to a cabinet and removed a box of plastic zipper storage bags. She took a bag from the box and handed the bag to Sheriff Connor.

“Thank you.” Sheriff Connor put the wallet into the bag and zipped it closed.

“So why would someone want to mail this guy's head to Mrs. Harken?” asked Dr. Davis.

“I don’t know,” said the sheriff. He checked the rest of the pockets on the corpse’s clothing. All he found was some loose change.

Miss Lancombe held a plastic bag open, and the sheriff dropped the change into it.

“That sounded like pocket change,” said Dr. Davis.

“That’s what it was,” said the sheriff. “Four quarters, a dime and two pennies.”

“So are we done here?” asked Miss Lancombe.

“Do you see anything else that might be important? Anything that you might be able to analyze in your lab to give us a greater insight into what sort of man this was, and how he was murdered?”

Miss Lancombe looked the body over without touching it. “I suppose there could be some traces of the killer's DNA under Mr. Fricklebacher's fingernails.”

“Excellent!” said Dr. Davis. “Why don't you collect the DNA and see if you can match it with someone in your database.”

“This is just a small-town high-school lab. We don't have any of the machines that we could use for those kind of tests, and I don't have a database of people's DNA. I don't even have access to that kind of database. He should really be sent to the state police.”

“All in due time,” said Dr. Davis. “All in due time. For now we need to pursue the leads that we have, and that means we'll have to talk with Mrs. Harken.”

Miss Lancombe covered the corpse again with the sheet.

“Well, thanks for stopping by,” she said. “I wish you the best of luck with this.”

“Thank you for your help,” said Sheriff Connor.

“She's not done yet,” said Dr. Davis. “She's coming with us.”

“She is?”

“I am?”

“Of course. Without her scientific mind we never would have gotten as far as we have in such a short period of time.”

“I didn't need science to --”

“Enough of the self-deprecation. You're coming with us and that's that.”

“But I've got papers to grade.”

“They'll be here when you get back.”

Miss Lancombe looked at Sheriff Connor. He shrugged.

“All right,” said Miss Lancombe, with no enthusiasm at all in her voice.

“Excellent! Our crime fighting team is growing!”

“Where do you want us to send the body?” asked the sheriff.

“The closest place to store it would be the school's cafeteria freezer,” suggested Dr. Davis.

“No. Definitely not,” said Miss Lancombe. “That would not be appropriate, and could get me fired.”

“All right, then. It'll have to go to my office.” To the ambulance drivers, Dr. Davis said, “There are three morgue drawers. Put it in the bottom one. The head is in there already. Since we don’t get many corpses, I’ve been storing other things in the top two.”

“Will they need a key to get in the building?” asked the sheriff.

“No. I never lock it. It’s too much trouble to fool with the key, and no one’s ever bothered anything in there before.”

“Dr. Davis, wouldn't you rather ride with the ambulance?”

“Nonsense! Susie and I are riding with you. We're not going to break up our crime fighting team until we've solved this murder – or until ten o'clock tonight, whichever comes first. I've got to get my sleep. Vamanos!”

Dr. Davis led the way out, tapping with his cane. He slipped on a pencil, but he recovered without falling down. He walked out the door. Sheriff Connor gestured for the ambulance drivers to go first, and they headed toward the door. Sheriff Connor and Miss Lancombe shared a glance. Sheriff Connor forced a smile, and Miss Lancombe shook her head in dismay at having allowed herself to be talked into this.

They heard Dr. Davis call out: “Let's go! Time's a-wasting!”

Miss Lancombe headed toward the door, followed by Sheriff Connor.