CHAPTER FOURTEEN: A Regular Boy Scout
As soon as Vanessa opened the back door and turned on the lights, Blair beat it over to the lab bins stacked in rows against the side wall. He lifted out case number twenty-one and examined its contents. There was a lump of purple impression material in it, and it was split right down the middle. He pulled the two halves apart to see what was inside.
“There are a couple of Impregum impressions here,” he told her, “both sides of a key.”
Vanessa pulled her jacket closed and glanced around as if someone would walk in on them at any minute. “No rubies, huh? I guess that shoots down your theory.”
“Not quite. The patient’s name on the case is Massey.” She seemed surprised to hear that. “Perhaps for Kevin Massey.”
“Are you saying that Cynthia and this Kevin Massey knew one another?”
“That’s a possibility.”
“Kevin Massey wasn’t a patient in this office. In fact, I don’t think we have any Masseys here, at least none with lab work pending.” She checked the name herself. “Why in the world would he have his own bin?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. Cynthia certainly knew about this.”
Vanessa stared down at the case in his hand and nodded; that fact was undeniable.
“I’m going to pour up these impressions in hot wax,” he said, grabbing a beaker from under the sink and some sticks of blue wax from one of the lab drawers. After lighting a Bunsen burner, Blair set up a ring stand and a wire screen to hold the beaker as the wax melted. He poured a separating solution inside the impression, making sure all the surfaces were covered, and then dried the inside quickly with an air syringe.
When he’d determined that there was enough melted wax, he poured it into the impression and held it upright until the wax cooled off and hardened again. As it cooled, he put it against the vibrator to decrease the number of air bubbles in it. While the wax was still soft, he joined the two pieces together to judge the correct thickness of the key, and to shave away any of the excess.
When he was sure that the wax was hard, he carefully pulled the Impregum material apart. The wax key replica fell out from between the two halves. He held the wax key up and examined both sides.
“What do you suppose that fits into?” Vanessa asked him.
“It’s small; perhaps it’s to a strong box. If Kevin Massey has a strong box in his apartment, maybe this key fits it.”
“Are you expecting to find rubies in there?”
“Maybe. Who knows?”
“Well, you certainly can’t use a key of wax,” she said. “How are you going to manage it?”
“I’m going to cast it up.”
“Cast it up? You mean, like a crown?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Calvin has all the equipment and materials that I need right here to do it: metal alloys, burnout ovens, and a centrifugal casting machine.”
Someone knocked on the back door and Vanessa jumped. Panicking, she looked at Blair and whispered, “What do we do?”
“First of all, stop looking like that,” he said. “Just remember that you work here. Tell whoever’s there exactly that.” A second knock came, but she just stood there frozen. “Go on and answer it!”
Vanessa went to the door and opened it, finding a night watchman on the other side. When he saw her, his composure mellowed, and he gave her a smile and a courteous tip of his hat.
“I saw the light on, ma’am,” he said. “I figured I should stop in and see what’s going on.” The watchman looked past her and studied Blair’s face closely. Blair smiled cordially and waved his hand. “And who are you, sir?”
“I’m an associate of Dr. Maxwell’s. The name is Pigeon. Nice to meet you.”
“You folks workin’ late?” he asked, smiling and looking at Vanessa again.
“Yes,” she said.
The man nodded. “Work that can’t wait. I can understand that.”
Vanessa nodded.
“Dr. Cyndi’s death has probably set you folks back some in your practice. You want time to grieve, but you still must take care of patients.”
“That’s right,” Vanessa said, glancing at Blair with a troubled countenance even though the watchman was the one doing all of the believing and all of the talking. Blair figured she just didn’t like to lie.
“How long do you suppose you’ll be?” the man asked, and then looked at Blair.
“A couple of hours, max,” Blair said. “If I’m much later than that, the wife’ll kill me.”
The watchman chuckled. “I know that’s right. Well, I’ll get going so’s you can finish your work. Don’t forget to lock up when you’re done.”
“We won’t forget,” Vanessa said. “And thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” When he left, he closed the door behind him.
As soon as he was gone, Vanessa got jittery all over again. “You’d better get started, Dr. Vaughn.”
“Call me Blair.”
“All right,” she said. “I didn’t know you were married.”
“I’m not. I just feel like I am sometimes.”
“How’s that?”
“Oh, at times when I sit around chatting with a good-looking girl like you who’s wearing nothing but a robe, and we’re sipping coffee as if daybreak has just hit us.” He paused, staring at her. “It was nice back at your place.”
She seemed surprised to hear him say that. “You and I sure don’t see things the same way, do we? I understood that it was almost ten in the evening and that I was all ready for bed. Then a crazy man dragged me back to work.”
“Heh, heh, heh.”
“Come on and get started, will you?”
Blair switched on a couple of burnout furnaces set for two different temperatures. While the ovens were warming up, he attached a channel called a sprue to the wax key pattern by heating up more wax and using that to join the two together with a waxing instrument. Then he pushed the plastic sprue into the cone-shaped, rubber base and secured it with more hot wax. Despite unsteady hands, years of experience in the laboratory allowed him to work swiftly. Still, he was sure that Vanessa had noticed his dropping a thing or two from time to time.
Moistening glass fiber paper with water, Blair lined the inside of the casting ring with it, sealing the two together with sticky wax. Glancing over at Vanessa, he found a woman who was way too upset to be bored.
After putting the casting ring, sprue former, and wax pattern together, Blair mixed investment powder with water under a vacuum. Then he poured the investment material directly into the top of the casting ring after brushing the wax pattern with a surfactant to eliminate bubbles. Once the ring was invested, he allowed the material to harden.
“How long does it have to stand there?” Vanessa asked, rubbing her brow and looking quite tired.
“Forty-five minutes,” he said. “By then the two ovens should be nice and hot.”
Vanessa wasn’t much for talking then, so Blair just watched her. Her nervousness had been transformed into a bout of depression, it seemed. Worrying didn’t do her face any justice at all. For the first time she looked weary and old beyond her years. Bags were even apparent under her eyes.
She looked interested again when Blair stood up to separate the rubber sprue former from the casting ring and place the latter inside one of the ovens to burn out the wax. “How long will that take?” Vanessa asked, her voice deeper from not speaking.
“Thirty minutes. Then I’ll transfer it to the next oven for forty-five minutes more. Would you unlock the casting metal cabinet?”
“Sure. How many pennyweights?”
“Better make it twice as much as for a full, posterior crown. The key will be a little bigger and thicker than a crown.”
Blair went to the opposite end of the lab and got the centrifugal casting machine ready by winding the spring loaded spindle by hand. Then he put a porcelain crucible on the stage, placed some flux on it, and lit a gas-air torch. When Vanessa brought t
he casting metal over, he was adjusting the flame. Applying heat and flux to the crucible glazed its surface. It was getting hot in the lab, and he was sweating profusely. He kept wiping the perspiration away so that Vanessa wouldn’t see it and then wonder if he was okay. The last thing he wanted to do was to suggest he wasn’t up to the task at hand.
“I can’t help but be surprised by your helping Cynthia out this way,” she said after a long silence.
“I’m not being much of a help, am I? After all, she is already dead.”
“What I mean is, sticking your neck out like this to find out who killed her.” Blair glanced at Vanessa to see if she looked serious. She did. “I don’t think she would’ve done the same for you, Doctor. On more than one occasion she’d made some pretty hurtful jokes at your expense.”
“I’m sure she did,” he said, smiling a little. “But being a bitch shouldn’t warrant a death sentence.”
“True,” Vanessa said, putting the metal down on the bench next to where he was working.
“Does Cal still keep a flashlight in his office?”
“I guess so. Why?”
“I’d like to borrow it.”
“Oh no, not again,” she said, pressing a couple of fingers against her left temple.
“Hey, I borrow things, but I bring them back. You know I’m good for it.”
“I just want to be mindful of letting you borrow things that I don’t happen to own. It’s a very bad habit I’ve picked up in the past few hours.”
“I haven’t asked for anything that can’t be replaced.”
“It takes money or a valid charge card to replace things, Blair, and you don’t seem to have either.”
“But I’m an honest man, and I’m careful. A regular boy scout. And most boy scouts don’t have any money, either.”
“Uh-huh,” she said.
“The wax should be burnt out of the casting ring by now,” he said. “Grab the tongs and put it inside the other oven, will you? Make sure the sprue hole is down.”
Vanessa opened the oven door and grabbed the ring with the tongs. She put it into the second oven and then closed the door.
While waiting, she went to Cal Maxwell’s office and brought out his flashlight. When she put it down beside Blair he thanked her, but never looked up from his work. He paused, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow because it was starting to cloud his vision. His stomach was also doing cartwheels. He used the leg of his trousers to take the sweat off his hand.
“Are you all right?” Vanessa asked him. “You look a little peaked.”
“I’m fine,” he said, but she didn’t look convinced. “I could use a drink of water,” he said just to appease her. “It’s hot in here, and I’m very thirsty.”
“I’ll get you some,” she said and then walked out of the lab. Water wasn’t what he had in mind, but he knew that it was the best she could do.
After another forty-five minutes had passed, Vanessa opened the oven and brought the ring over to him, holding it with the tongs. He told her how it was to sit in the cradle as he placed a couple of metal coupons into the crucible. Adding flux, he watched them melt under the heat of the blow torch. He kept adding coupons and heating them until the metal was very shiny and light orange. Once satisfied that the metal was ready, Blair grabbed the casting arm and allowed the metal pole to drop. The minute he released the arm, the hot metal was thrown through the hole in the crucible and into the sprue-accessed casting ring, and hence into the invested form of the key.
After cooling down so that the exposed metal was a dull red color, Blair picked up the ring with a pair of tongs and dipped it under a faucet of cold, running water. The investment material exploded and started flaking off the casting. Then he removed the sprue and key casting from the rest of the investment and gave it a good look.
“Perfect,” Vanessa said, as if relieved by the prospect of leaving soon.
“It’ll do,” Blair said, using a slow-speed handpiece with a mounted abrasive disk to cut the sprue off the key. Slipping once, the disk cut his finger. It was hard to keep the handpiece steady with his hands trembling so much. When the sprue was finally cut from the key, Blair placed it into an acidic pickling solution to clean off the rest of the investment material.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Find out where this key fits,” Blair said, staring at the casting in the bottom of the solution. He felt like a boy about to unravel a most wonderful mystery. But, just like a boy, he didn’t stop to consider the danger that he would probably find ahead.