“God, no. Archaeologists would have done that a hundred years ago, maybe, and that’s exactly how they ended up damaging so many specimens. There are probably layers of resin under those outer wrappings, so you can’t just peel it all away. You might have to chip through it. It’s not only destructive, it’s disrespectful. I’d never do that.” He looked through the window at the dark-haired young woman. “And Josephine would kill me if I did.”

“That’s your colleague?”

“Yes. Dr. Pulcillo.”

“She looks like she’s about sixteen.”

“Doesn’t she? But she’s smart as a whip. She’s the one who arranged this scan. And when the hospital attorneys tried to put a stop to it, Josephine managed to push it through anyway.”

“Why would the attorneys object?”

“Seriously? Because this patient couldn’t give the hospital her informed consent.”

Maura laughed in disbelief. “They wanted informed consent from a mummy?”

“When you’re a lawyer, every i must be dotted. Even when the patient’s been dead for a few thousand years.”

Dr. Pulcillo had removed all the packing materials, and she joined them in the viewing room and shut the connecting door. The mummy now lay exposed in its crate, awaiting the first barrage of X-rays.

“Dr. Robinson?” said the CT tech, fingers poised over the computer keyboard. “We need to provide the required patient information before we can start the scan. What shall I use as the birth date?”

The curator frowned. “Oh, gosh. Do you really need a birth date?”

“I can’t start the scan until I fill in these blanks. I tried the year zero, and the computer wouldn’t take it.”

“Why don’t we use yesterday’s date? Make it one day old.”

“Okay. Now the program insists on knowing the sex. Male, female, or other?”

Robinson blinked. “There’s a category for other?”

The tech grinned. “I’ve never had the chance to check that particular box.”