Critical

19

"Well, it's about time, you guys," Detective Lieutenant Lou Soldano said. He tossed his newspaper aside and made a production out of examining his watch. "You've always bragged how early you get here. This ain't that early."

"What is this?" Jack questioned. "Is this today, or is it yesterday? We don't see you for months, and here you are two days in a row. What gives?"

"I imagine my appearance gives away the fact that once again I've been up all night."

"How come you don't let anyone else in your department do any work?"

Lou thought for a minute. It was a question he'd never asked himself. "I guess because I don't have anything else to do. I suppose that sounds rather pathetic."

"You said it, I didn't," Jack said, as he settled into one of the brown vinyl chairs and elevated his bad knee.

"We would have been earlier," Laurie said, "but we had to stop at the hospital for Jack's pre-op workup."

Lou looked from Laurie to Jack. "Are you still going through with the surgery tomorrow?"

"Let's not get into that," Jack said. "Rather, let's hear why you were up all night!"

"It was a bit of deja vu," Lou said.

Laurie called over to Jack to ask if he wanted coffee, and he gave the usual thumbs-up sign. He then motioned for Lou to continue.

"I was out with the harbor guys once again. Just like the previous night, they'd come across a floater who'd been shot in the exact same fashion as the one the previous night. I'd left word to call me if it happened, and they did. It's just what I didn't want to see. Most of the other wars the competing organized-crime syndicates have waged have started out the same way. First a hit, then another, and then a goddamn avalanche."

Laurie brought over Jack's coffee in one hand and hers in another. She sat on the arm of Jack's chair, listening to Lou.

"The only hopeful sign is that this hit was a little different."

"How so?" Jack asked.

"The victim's a girl," Lou said, but then quickly added, "I mean, a woman." He glanced up guiltily at Laurie. He knew she was sensitive to feminist issues, such as calling women girls. "That's rather novel," he continued. "We haven't seen too many women bumped off gangland-style, so I suppose there's hope this episode is unrelated to yesterday's, meaning it's not necessarily an escalation of whatever was the cause of yesterday's hit."

"The floater is not the only bit of deja vu," Dr. Riva Mehta called out from the desk where she was going over all the cases that had come in overnight and deciding which ones needed to be autopsied and who in the ME staff would do them. "Laurie, you asked about MRSA cases. There's another one here. I assume you want it."

"Absolutely" Laurie said, slipping off the arm of Jack's chair and scooting over toward Riva. "Is it from an Angels Healthcare hospital?"

"Nope. It's from University Hospital."

Laurie took the case folder and walked over to the chair next to Vinnie's, who was engrossed as per usual in the sports section of the Daily News.

"Damn!" Jack whispered, returning his attention to Lou. "She's probably going to use this new case as more grist for her mill about canceling my surgery tomorrow. So please, don't bring it up."

"I'll try, but when it comes to common sense, you are not even in Laurie's league. Are you sure you shouldn't follow her advice?"

"Don't start," Jack said, holding up his hand as if to ward off a literal attack. "Let's get back to your case. Was the floater clothed or naked?"

"Interesting you should ask. She was half and half."

"What the hell does that mean? Bottom but no top or vice versa?"

"Sort of. She had outerwear but no underwear. She had on one of those shirtdresses. I think that's what you call them, and she was wearing a coat but no bra and no panties. I don't know if it's significant or not. I mean, isn't it kind of a fad these days for some girls, I mean women, to go out without underwear?"

"You got me," Jack said. "I haven't the faintest idea. Regardless, we're obligated to use a rape kit to cover all bases."

"I think I was born too early," Lou said with a laugh.

"Has this floater been IDed?"

"No, in that way, it's similar to yesterday's."

"How about yesterday's? Have you identified the victim?"

"No. And I put some serious time in on it yesterday. I can't figure it out. The guy was wearing a wedding ring and was well dressed. I don't understand why the family hasn't called in. In such a case, Missing Persons ordinarily solves the mystery in twenty-four hours or less. My only thought is that maybe he's a foreigner. Now, with today's case, who I suspect is single, I will be less surprised if it takes a few days, unless the woman has a roommate or the kind of employment where a supervisor or a coworker will call the police."

"How old approximately?"

"Young, late teens, early twenties."

"Does she look like a hooker?"

"How can you tell these days the way the kids dress? The only thing unique is some lime-green highlights in her hair."

"Lime green?" Jack questioned with disbelief.

"As I said, it's unique."

"Does she have the same depressions in her legs like she was chained, possibly to a weight, like yesterday's?"

"She does, which is why I've tried to keep that fact quiet. If there is to be more of these gangland executions, I want them to keep bobbing up. I want the perps to continue making the same mistake."

"What do you expect out of the autopsy?"

"Hey, I don't know," Lou said, throwing his hands into the air. "You're the magician."

"I wish that were the case."

"I do want the slug. If it's again a Remington high-velocity hollow point like I believe yesterday's was, we'll at least have to consider the same gun was used for both cases."

"Was the body found where the other one was?"

"Not really but not that far away either. The way the current and tides move around out there, it's anybody's guess where flotsam will end up."

"All right, let's do it," Jack said. He got to his feet and collected his crutches, then hobbled over to Riva. "Is the new floater file handy?" he asked her. "And can I do the case?" Riva was happy to hand over the case file, and Jack used it to swat Vinnie's newspaper. "Let's go, big guy," Jack said, as he dropped the case file into Vinnie's lap. "Let's lend a hand to the halls of justice."

Vinnie groused, as was his habit, but to his credit, he put away the paper and got to his feet.

"We'll need a rape kit," Jack added.

Vinnie nodded and headed toward communications on his way down to the autopsy room.

Jack looked over Riva's shoulder at the stack of cases she was reviewing. "Looks like a busy day."

"Even busier than yesterday," Riva said.

"Hey, I'll meet you downstairs," Lou called over to Jack. Jack waved for him to go ahead.

"Have any corkers?" Jack asked. He tried to rifle through several of Riva's carefully organized case files, but she smacked the back of his hand with the ruler she kept handy for that very purpose. "Ouch," Jack said as he grabbed his hand and rubbed it, pretending he'd been truly hurt.

"There's a couple in here which I think will be a challenge," Riva said.

"That sounds good," Jack said. "How many can I expect?"

"At least three," Riva said. "I've got two people who've requested

paper days, so the rest of us will have to pick up the slack." Paper days were days that medical examiners did not do autopsies but rather concentrated on getting all the information needed to finish their pending cases and finalize the death certificates.

"Jack, I'm afraid you have to look at this," Laurie said. She'd gone through the MRSA case that Riva had given her.

Jack rolled his eyes. It wasn't difficult for him to guess that Laurie was about to mount one more effort to get him to change his mind.

"This case is a repeat of David Jeffries's," Laurie began. "She also had been operated on at an Angels Healthcare hospital, only to suffer a fulminant MRSA infection, for which she was shipped off to the University Hospital in hope of saving her."

"Thank the good Lord it wasn't at the orthopedic hospital," Jack said.

"Jack, be serious!" Laurie complained. "This is the second astoundingly fulminant staph infection in as many days. You must rethink your decision. The vast majority of MRSA infections don't kill their victims, and surely not within hours of the initial symptoms. These are very unusual in all regards. Why can't you see this?"

"I do see it. It is a mystery and I'm supportive of your efforts to figure it out. As for me, I've put myself in Dr. Wendell Anderson's very capable hands. If he's confident, I'm confident. If you can come up with something specific why I am specifically at risk, I'll consider it more seriously, but otherwise my mind is made up. I've even been tested for MRSA, and I don't have it. Dr. Anderson has not had a case. In short, I'm going to have my surgery tomorrow, and that's it." Jack stopped and took several breaths. He'd worked himself up during his monologue. He and Laurie locked eyes for a beat, then he said, "Now I'm going down and do my first case. Okay?"

Laurie nodded. The melancholy she'd experienced on awakening drifted back. She felt tears bubble up from somewhere behind her eyes, but she fought them off. "Okay," she said, with a slightly hesitant voice. "I'll see you in the pit."

"I'll see you in the pit," Jack echoed, and walked from the room.

Riva and Laurie stared at each other, with Laurie wanting support and Riva wanting to give it.

"The trouble with men," Riva pontificated, "is that they are men, and they don't think like we do. The irony is that they accuse us of emotionalism, whereas they are equally capable. He'd made an emotional decision to have the surgery and, at this point, he's incapable of rationality."

Laurie smiled in spite of herself. "Thank you," she said. "I needed that."

"Interesting that he did offer you an out," Riva said. "And I can be the witness. He said if you could come up with something that could specifically put him at risk, he'd be amenable to hear it. Of course, he didn't offer to change his mind, but he might. What you need to do is find out the how and the why of these infections. I know it is a tall order in less than twenty-four hours, but from your past record, if anybody could do it, you can."

Laurie nodded agreement, not the part about her being the most capable of the challenge but rather the idea of her possibly changing Jack's mind by her solving the apparent mystery. Suddenly, Laurie stood up and headed out of the room. Her melancholy had been overwhelmed by a surge of adrenaline. She was committed to the puzzle, no matter how unlikely the success, and undaunted by the seemingly impossible time constraint.

"I'm afraid I will have to assign you a few other cases," Riva called after her.

Laurie waved to indicate she'd heard.

"Do you want the case files now or later?" Riva yelled.

Laurie stopped and hurried back to Riva.

"They should be both interesting and quick," Riva said, while handing over the two envelopes. "Both are young, seemingly healthy people in their early thirties, so the posts will be quick and you can get back to your MRSA mystery."

"What's the presumed cause of death?"

"There isn't any. One died at the dentist's office after getting injected with a local anesthetic. I know it sounds like a drug reaction, but there were no symptoms of anaphylaxis. The other collapsed at a health club while riding a stationary bike."

"I'm here!" a voice called out. "The day can now officially begin."

Both Laurie and Riva looked up as Chet bounded into the room. He swirled his jacket over his head like a lariat and let it fly into one of the vinyl club chairs.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, looking confused. He'd expected to see Jack.

"Jack and Vinnie are already downstairs," Laurie said. "You're even more chipper than yesterday, and almost on time two days in a row. What gives? Don't tell me you scored a dinner date with your new woman friend."

Chet stood up straight, flashed a Boy Scout signal with his raised right hand, and clicked his heels. "Scouts never lie. I did indeed, and I'm happy to report she was more intriguing and beautiful than I had remembered. I actually enjoyed talking with her."

"Listen to this, Riva! We are witnessing the possible stirring of maturity in this heretofore juvenile. He was content merely to learn about another human, female being."

"Now, I wouldn't go that far," Chet said. "I was still plotting to get her back to my apartment or me over to hers, but she cut me off with just dinner."

"Darn," Laurie said, snapping her fingers in sham disappointment.

"I have to thank you for your advice, Laurie. I'm sure the date wouldn't have happened had it not been for your encouragement and advice."

"You're very welcome," Laurie said. She turned to Riva. "Thanks for these cases. They're perfect." Laurie started once again to leave.

"She took me completely by surprise," Chet continued, forcing Laurie to hold up. "She's a doctor; she's boarded in internal medicine. On top of that, she's CEO of what has to be a multimillion-dollar company that builds and runs specialty hospitals. I mean she is one impressive lady."

Laurie experienced an unpleasant visceral contraction accompanied by a sensation akin to dizziness which resolved as quickly as it had appeared. She cleared her throat before asking, "Is her name by any chance Angela Dawson?"

"It is!" Chet exclaimed. "Do you know her?"

"Vaguely," Laurie said with surprise. "I have met her, and unfortunately I have to say I wasn't as impressed as you are."

"Why not?"

"I'm afraid I don't have time to explain now, but let me just say that I sensed her priorities as a businesswoman were trumping those of a physician."

Laurie knew Chet would undoubtedly have more questions, but she had to move on. Despite his protests, she excused herself. Walking quickly through communications, where notification of all the deaths of the city were received, she began to plan her day.

With as little time as she had before Jack went under the knife, she would need to be efficient. The first stop was the forensic investigator's office. Janice Jaeger had done the site visit on the new MRSA case, and Laurie wanted to question her. More than once, Laurie had learned something important from Janice's wealth of experience that had not gotten into the report. Forensic investigators were tasked to include only facts, not impressions.

Laurie found Janice finishing up after a long night. She was the sole PA officially working from eleven to seven but rarely left before eight. She was aided, if need be, by forensic pathology residents who rotated night call. If even more backup was needed or the case was particularly challenging, one of the medical examiners was also available.

"Did I miss something?" Janice asked, as Laurie came up to her desk. Laurie got along famously with all the PA's but particularly with Janice, who appreciated Laurie's recognition of her work. More than any of the MEs, Laurie was constantly coming to her and asking questions and valuing her opinion.

"I'm about to do Ramona Torres," Laurie said. "I gathered from your note you made a site visit to the University Hospital."

"I did indeed."

"Did you sense anything about the case that you thought was interesting or unique but not appropriate for your report?"

Janice smiled. Laurie was always asking her probing questions "I did, actually," Janice said. "I got the feeling the doctors were upset that they weren't getting the Angels Healthcare septic patients soon enough to make a difference concerning survival."

"Did you make a visit to the Angels Healthcare Cosmetic Surgery and Eye Hospital?"

"No, I did not," Janice said. "Not in this case. Do you think I should have?"

"I can't say," Laurie admitted. "But you have visited Angels Healthcare hospitals in conjunction with other MRSA cases."

"Absolutely" Janice said. "On a number of occasions."

"I've read several of your reports. What's your general feeling about the hospitals and these recurrent MRSA cases?"

Janice smiled again. "Do you want the truth?"

"Of course! I wouldn't be asking if I didn't."

"I don't know how to explain it, but I feel like something strange is going on. I mean, it's nothing I can write in my report, but they keep having these infections and yet keep doing the surgery. Whenever I ask any type of question in this regard, they say that they are doing everything they possibly can. Meanwhile, people are dying."

"I've had the same response," Laurie admitted. "Thanks for your opinion. Is Cheryl around?"

"She's out on a call. Bart Arnold is around. Do you want to speak with him?" Bart Arnold was the chief of forensic investigation and ran the department.

"No. Just leave a message that I need the hospital record for Ramona Torres. They can e-mail it to me like they did with the others."

"Not a problem."

Laurie rushed all the way to the front elevators to save time: Not only were they faster, there were more of them. She bounded into her office, laid the three case files on her desk, and hung up her coat. Snatching up the phone, she called down to the mortuary office and asked for Marvin. When she got him on the line, she asked him if he would work with her again that day. She said she wanted to be expeditious. He agreed with his usual cheerful readiness. Laurie gave him Ramona Torres's accession number, said she wanted to do her first, and then rang off.

She looked at the clock. One of the first things she wanted to do that day was call the CDC, but fearing they might not be functioning as early as it was, she turned her attention to reviewing the day's autopsy cases. That required rereading the case file of Ramona Torres. After doing so, she felt confident the post would be similar to David Jeffries's. Putting that one aside, she picked up the first of the two sudden-death cases and pulled out the PA's report.

The patient's name was Alexandra Zuben, age twenty-nine. She had visited the dentist for a root canal and had received the local anesthesia as Riva had described. At the very outset of the procedure, the patient suddenly had fallen unconscious. After she had been placed in a head-down position, she'd revived and insisted the procedure continue. A few minutes later, the same situation had developed, although on this occasion she did not revive, 911 had been called, and the patient had been rushed to the hospital, where she was found to have an arrhythmia, a markedly elevated blood pressure, and little or no respiratory efforts. She'd been put on a ventilator, but despite aggressive therapy, she had progressed to a cardiac arrest that could not be reversed. The emergency-room diagnosis had been recorded as respiratory failure compounded with cardiac failure secondary to severe allergic reaction and anaphylaxis to Novocain. The PAs concluded with the fact that a family member had said that the patient was remarkably healthy but had had, on occasion, several syncopal attacks involving palpitations, flushing, and heavy perspiration.

Laurie slipped the PA's report back into its folder. Her initial impression was that the emergency-room diagnosis was in error, and she had a reasonable idea of what she would find on the autopsy. Of particular note, she was reasonably certain she would not need any special equipment for the post.

Next, Laurie took out the PA's report on her third case. It was very short. It merely said that Ronald Carpentu had been on a semirecumbent stationary bike, which he used most every day, and had suddenly collapsed. Immediate CPR had been given by the health club's personnel but without success, 911 had been called, and the CPR was continued en route to the emergency room. On arrival, the patient was declared dead with the diagnosis of a severe heart attack.

Laurie replaced the PA's report. On this third case, she was quite certain the emergency-room diagnosis would prove to be correct, but there was still the question of why. Laurie guessed atheromatous heart disease. Again, she would not need any specialized equipment.

Picking up the phone, she called down to the autopsy room. It rang six times, causing Laurie to drum her fingers on her desk. While she waited, she thought about the weird coincidence of her giving Chet advice about dating Angela Dawson, of all people.

"Hello," a voice said, sounding more like "Yellow."

Laurie asked for Marvin, and after only a few seconds, he came on the line. "Are we ready?" Laurie asked.

"We've been ready for hours," Marvin joked.

Less than five minutes later, Laurie was suited up and staring down at Ramona's corpse. As with David Jeffries, an endotracheal tube and a number of intravenous lines were still in place. But the most striking thing was the extensive bruising over much of her body from the liposuction.

"You are motivated today," Marvin said, in a reference to how quickly Laurie had gotten down to the basement level, changed into her barrier protective gear, and come into the autopsy room. Besides her case, there was only one other under way, and that was the floater. Laurie hadn't even stopped to see how it was going.

"I want to be as efficient as I can," Laurie admitted. "I promise I won't leave you high and dry like I did yesterday. I apologize again. I got sidetracked and lost all idea of the time."

"No sweat," Marvin said, seemingly embarrassed that Laurie felt she needed to apologize.

Laurie palpated Ramona's skin and looked at it closely. It had a spongy feel, and there were multiple tiny abscesses such that Laurie felt that had she lived, she would probably have sloughed off a large part of her epidermis.

After taking a number of photographs, Laurie began the case. She worked quickly and silently. When Marvin asked questions, she answered as if preoccupied, and he soon stopped. Since they worked together so often, there was little need to talk.

As with David Jeffries, the most notable pathological finding, besides the extensive cellulitis, was in the lungs. Both were fluid-filled and contained innumerable small abscesses that would have coalesced into larger and larger ones had the patient lived. As with Jeffries, the necrosis was substantial.

When the final suture had been placed, closing the autopsy incision, Laurie stepped back from the table. She glanced around the room. Now, all eight tables were being utilized. Looking over near the door, she could see that Jack, Lou, and Vinnie were still involved with the floater.

"That was one of the fastest autopsies I've seen," Marvin commented, as he began to clean up.

"How soon can you have the next case?" Laurie asked.

"Fifteen minutes or so," Marvin said. "Do you have a preference as to which one of the two should be next?"

"It doesn't matter," Laurie said. "I wouldn't fault you if you don't believe me, but I'm going upstairs to make one phone call, and then I'll be back."

Marvin smiled.

Laurie stopped briefly at Jack's table and jokingly asked why he was taking so long. Jack was known to be one of the fastest prosectors.

"Because these two windbags talk like a couple of old ladies," Vinnie said disgustingly.

"We're being thorough," Jack said. "Even before the micro and the lab contribute, we know this young woman was raped rather brutally."

"Which raises the question," Lou said, "was it a rape followed by a homicide, or was it a homicide and an incidental rape?"

"Unfortunately, the autopsy is not going to provide us with an answer to that question," Jack said.

Laurie excused herself and exited via the washroom to ditch her gloves and Tyvek disposable suit. Her face mask she wiped clean with alcohol and left it in her locker. Intent on not keeping Marvin waiting, she dashed upstairs.

Back in her office, Laurie dialed Dr. Silvia Salerno at the CDC. As the call went through, she wedged the phone between her head and shoulder to free her hands. Shuffling through the case files on her desk, she located Chet's case, Julia Francova. She opened it up with the hopes of being able to add the subtyping of the patient's MRSA.

When the phone wasn't answered immediately, Laurie looked at the time. It was now going on nine, and she was certain the CDC had to be open for business. "Come on, come on!" Laurie urged. "Answer the damn phone."

Just when she thought about checking to see if the CDC had a paging system, the line was picked up. It was Silvia, and she was mildly out of breath. She immediately apologized, saying she had been in a neighboring office.

"I hope I'm not bothering you," Laurie said. "I know you said you'd be calling me, but the sooner I have some information, the better."

"Don't be silly," Silvia said. "You certainly aren't bothering me, and I was planning on calling this morning. I did check on those two MRSA cases of Dr. Mehta's. They are the same organism, and I can say that with definite certainty. Because we are adding these strains to the national library of MRSA, we go out of our way to characterize them, and we do this with multiple genetic methods, such as high-throughput amplified fragment-length polymorphism analysis. I could send you a list of the other methods we use."

"Thank you, but I don't believe that will be necessary," Laurie said. She had no idea what Silvia was talking about. "But I do have another case, which had been sent to you people a number of weeks ago for typing. Specifically, it was sent to a Dr. Percy."

"Dr. Percy is a colleague. What was the referring doctor's name?"

"Dr. Chet McGovern. He's a colleague of mine here at the OCME."

"What was the patient's name?"

Laurie spelled out the name to avoid any confusion.

"Hang on for a minute."

Laurie could hear the familiar sound of Silvia's keyboard, making her wonder how anything got done before digital computers.

"Yes, here it is," Silvia said. "Interesting! It's also CA-MRSA, USA four hundred, MWtwo, SCCmecIV, PVL, exactly like the two previous cases. Is it from the same institution?"

"It's from one of the same institutions," Laurie said. "Remember, the first two were from two separate hospitals."

"Yes, I remember. Concerning the two cases at the same institution, are they close to each other in time, maybe even the same date?"

Laurie turned to her unfinished matrix, but she did have the data from Mehta's case from the Angels Cosmetic Surgery and Eye Hospital. The patient's name was Diane Lucente, and like Ramona, she'd had liposuction. Laurie checked the date of Diane's death and Chet's case. "No," Laurie said. "They occurred almost three weeks apart."

"How odd," Silvia said. "I guess you know how genetically versatile staphylococcus is."

"I'm on a rather steep learning curve," Laurie admitted. "But I was informed of that yesterday."

"I find that the exact subtype being separated by institution and time quite amazing. All three must have been in contact with the same carrier."

"Did you have this specific subtype in your collection before Dr. Mehta sent you the isolate?"

"Yes, we did. As I told you last time, it is one of the most virulent subtypes we've seen for all sorts of test animals as well as humans."

"Do you send out cultures of these organisms?"

"We do. We support any number of researchers willing to work with these organisms."

"Have you ever sent this particular organism to New York City?

"I don't know offhand, but I can find out."

"I'd appreciate it," Laurie said. The nagging concern of the bacteria being spread purposefully resurfaced in Laurie's brain, yet the old arguments against such an idea resurfaced as well, each essentially canceling the other.

"I have asked around the center if anyone was aware of the cluster of MRSA cases you are investigating, but no had heard about it."

"Is that odd or not?" Laurie asked.

"No. It's up to the individual institutions if they want to contact us for assistance. There's no mandatory reporting to us, but there probably is to the state or city authorities."

"Did you get the other isolates I had our microbiology department overnight to you?"

"Yes, I did. They are in the works. I shall have some results in two to three days – four, tops."

Laurie thanked the woman for her help and rang off. For a moment, she sat at her desk and went over the conversation. She had to admit that the call had deepened the mystery, not solved it.

Suddenly remembering the time, she leaped up from her desk and dashed for the elevator. She was afraid she had once again kept Marvin waiting despite her promise not to do so.

CARLO FOLLOWED BRENNAN out of the electronics store on Lexington Avenue in Manhattan. Brennan had purchased a GPS tracking device from a company that specialized in marine as well as terrestrial applications. Once outside, they found that it had started to sprinkle, so they ran for the black GMC Denali.

"I'm glad to see it started to rain," Carlo said, as he revved the engine before pulling out into the traffic.

"How come?" Brennan asked, absorbed in slitting the cellophane wrapping of the box containing the tracking device. He loved electronic contrivances and had had a ball picking out the item. He'd spent such a long time discussing with the salesman the pluses and minuses of the array of tracking devices the store carried that Carlo had become totally bored.

"Because there'll be less chance of people hanging around the marina. I don't want anyone seeing us hiding the thing on the boat. You know what I'm saying?"

Brennan didn't answer. Instead, he was easing the tracking device out of the box's foam interior.

"Hey!" Carlo demanded. He didn't like to be ignored. "Are you listening to me?"

"Sort of," Brennan admitted. He looked into the depths of the molded foam packing material.

"I'm talking about the rain and the marina. I asked you if you agreed it was to our advantage it was raining."

Brennan at last found what he was looking for. It was a packet containing an operating directions booklet but, more important, an online registration code.

"Well?" Carlo questioned with irritation.

Brennan next used his penknife on the packaging for the device itself, but before he could free it from its cellophane mummification, his head snapped forward from an openhanded blow from Carlo.

"What the hell!" Brennan yelled. He turned and glared at Carlo. "What did you hit me for?" he growled.

"I was talking to you," Carlo yelled back. "You were ignoring me. I don't like to be ignored. It pisses me off."

Brennan stared at Carlo. He was in a momentary rage. Luckily, he controlled himself, since Carlo was behind the wheel and they were hurtling down Lexington Avenue in a clot of traffic. Carlo might have been bigger and older, but he sure as hell wasn't wiser. In fact, he was somewhat of a lunkhead, and it was that realization that enabled Brennan to calm down a degree.

"Don't hit me ever again," Brennan voiced slowly, emphasizing each syllable.

"Then don't ignore me when I'm talking to you," Carlo snapped back.

Brennan rolled his eyes, shook his head, and went back to the operating instructions. He was pretty sure how the tracking device worked, but he wanted to read up on registering it for the real-time online services.

"I'm sorry I hit you," Carlo said after a few blocks. "Being ignored is a pet peeve of mine."

"Sorry to hear that," Brennan said.

They drove in silence for a while, to Brennan's relief. He finished reading how to register the device and then skimmed over the operating directions. Armed with all that information, he got his laptop from the rear seat and his cell phone from his jacket pocket. Once the laptop was booted up, he called the company. Not only did he want to register, he wanted to make sure that if the device was lost, it could not be traced back to him. Apparently, it was not an unusual request, because the service individual was able to oblige with ease.

"How long will it take to be online?" Brennan asked.

"Since I just got an okay on your credit card, I'm doing it as we speak."

Brennan thanked the man. Next, he opened the back of the device and inserted the four triple-A Copper Tops he'd bought as well. Going back to the company's website, he clicked on the position icon, then added the password and user name he'd just gotten. With another click, he got an hourglass, and a few seconds later, a query appeared asking him to select the size of the area he wanted to display. Brennan clicked 5 miles by 2.8 miles. A second later, there was a small blinking dot moving slowly along Lexington Avenue.

Turning the laptop screen in Carlo's direction, he said, "It works. It shows us heading south."

"Impressive," Carlo said. "How does it work?"

"It would take too long to explain," Brennan said. "But in essence, it's simple triangulation using satellite signals."

"That's enough," Carlo said. His lack of knowledge of current electronic devices made him feel inadequate.

As usual, the traffic was bad going across town, and the rain, as light as it was, made it worse. The driving was stop-and-go the whole way.

Carlo's cell phone startled both of them. With a bit of a struggle, Carlo got it out and checked the caller ID. Satisfied, he accepted the call, put it on speakerphone, and nestled the phone into a cubby on the center console.

"What's up?" Carlo questioned

"Nothing," Arthur MacEwan said in his high-pitched, shrill voice that drove everybody nuts. "Absolutely nothing. We've been here for over two hours, and Franco Ponti's hog of a car hasn't moved an inch."

Arthur MacEwan and Ted Polowski were parked in the back of Johnny's parking lot and had been there staking out Franco's car since before eight that morning.

"Have you seen the Hawk?"

"Nope. No sign of Franco. We did see Vinnie Dominick when he arrived with Freddie Capuso and Richie Herns. They've been inside the Neapolitan and have yet to reappear."

"How about scarface?"

"Haven't seen Angelo, either. We're getting tired of sitting here, and I'm wondering if it's a good idea. What if they spot us?"

"You've got a point, but you heard Louie this morning. He went nuts about them knocking off that girl last night after the hit the night before. Franco and Angelo are probably sleeping off their shenanigans. He wants them followed because he's trying to figure out what's going on, and if they do it again, he's going to let that detective know it's a Lucia problem and has nothing to do with the Vaccarros."

"Holy shit," Arthur said suddenly. Then he lowered his voice. "A blue van pulled up a second ago that says Sonny's Plumbing Supply, and Angelo just got out. And there's Franco, too. They're going into the Neapolitan."

"At least you found them," Carlo said. "Now keep track of them. And concerning your worry about being spotted: Make sure you eat a sandwich or something to justify sitting there."

"Okay," Arthur said, without much enthusiasm.

Once Carlo and Brennan got into the tunnel, the traffic lightened up considerably. They made good time to the marina in Hoboken. Although there were a number of cars in the parking lot, thanks to the rain that had continued, there was no one on the pier.

Carlo parked close to the water's edge and a good distance from the marina's sole building, where all the other cars were. Wasting no time, they stepped from the car and hustled out the pier. They stopped at the stern of Full Speed Ahead.

"I'll watch while you find a place to hide the device," Carlo said. He looked back toward the building. Not a soul had appeared.

Brennan crossed the gangplank and immediately began to search for an appropriate cranny. He found one at the very stern under some attached bait containers. With his hand, he inserted the tracking device as far back into the nook as he could. There was even a hidden lip that would keep the device from sliding out. A few moments later, he was back on the pier, and the two men started back to the car.

"Did you see anyone?" Brennan asked.

"Not a soul. How'd you make out?"

"I found a perfect spot."

Back in the car, Brennan brought his laptop out of sleep mode and went through the process of logging on again. When it was appropriate, he clicked the position icon as he'd done earlier and then the scale. Within seconds, there was a stylized representation of the area, even including the pier where Full Speed Ahead was moored. A blinking red dot was exactly where it was supposed to be.

Brennan moved the laptop into Carlo's lap. "Pretty nifty wouldn't you say?" Brennan offered. Carlo nodded. He was impressed but also intimidated by Brennan's expertise.

"I'M NOT SURPRISED we didn't get her this morning," Franco said. "Snatching this medical examiner lady is not going to be easy. The area around the medical examiner's office is a busy place, with Bellevue on one side and NYU Medical Center on the other side."

"The problem was the damn protest," Angelo butted in. "If it hadn't been for all those Hispanics carrying on, we would have had an opportunity. Hell, she and her boyfriend, who was on crutches, walked in front of our van."

"You're making it sound too easy," Franco said. "First of all, there was an SUV in front of us. Second of all, there were two of them and only two of us. What are you thinking? There's no way we could muscle the two of them into the van without causing a major scene. I say we should just shoot her from a distance and walk away."

"No!" Angelo blurted. "I want to snatch her. That's the only way to be sure the job gets done, and I want to make sure."

"Paul Yang and Amy Lucas were both a piece of cake," Franco said. "They were unsuspecting and easy to lure. But this Montgomery chick is in a totally different ballpark. There's no way we are going to be able to talk her into getting into the van peacefully, and that assumes we can even get her by herself. With her boyfriend on crutches, she'll be helping him. I say we shoot her and be done with it. As a medical examiner, I'm sure there's a dozen people who wouldn't mind seeing her put away."

"What's the plan?" Vinnie asked Angelo in his most serene tone. For those who knew him, it was a sign that he was major-league perturbed.

Franco, Angelo, Freddie, and Richie were all sitting in one of the Neapolitan booths, talking with Vinnie Dominick. Espresso cups, overflowing ashtrays, and a platter of cannoli cluttered the tabletop.

"I agree with Franco, it's a challenge," Angelo said. "Unfortunately, she moved out of her digs on Nineteenth Street, which would have otherwise made it a breeze. We may be forced to find out where she lives, but for now I think we should continue to try at the medical examiner's office. Franco's also right about needing more bodies, especially if we have to deal with the boyfriend, something I wouldn't mind doing. And we need another van."

"Why another van?" Vinnie questioned.

"For backup. If the snatch goes bad, we have an alternate getaway vehicle."

Vinnie nodded while staring at Angelo. Everyone stayed quiet while Vinnie ruminated.

"I want to be sure about this, too," Vinnie said finally. "In the past, it seems as if she has had nine lives, and with two hospitals right in the same area, a shot would have to be damn good. It would be just our luck if we got her good and they saved her. Snatch her and get rid of her once and for all! As far as another van goes, we've got more than we need. Are you going back to the OCME at lunchtime? We can't wait around for a week for this to go down, you know what I'm saying."

"We are aware," Angelo said. He was relieved Vinnie didn't jump at the easy way out. The more Angelo thought about it, the more intent he was on a slow demise for Dr. Laurie Montgomery.

"Are you okay with this?" Vinnie asked Franco.

"It has its merits," Franco said grudgingly. "But I'm worried about one thing."

"What's that?"

"In all due respect, Angelo is a bit too juiced up over this job. This morning, after we left the stakeout, we had to stop at Home Depot for a big bucket and a couple of bags of quick-set. I get nervous when there's this degree of emotion. I mean, he's thinking about this purely as payback, not a job. When emotions are involved like this, mistakes happen. People don't think right."

A wry smile appeared on Vinnie's face as he turned to Angelo. Clearly, he did not disapprove of Angelo's vengeful plans. At the same time, Vinnie knew Franco was right.

"So you want Laurie Montgomery to stew for a while before you drop her in the drink?"

"Something like that," Angelo admitted.

"What about Franco's point about mistakes can be made if emotions are involved and you're too eager?"

"I'll keep it in mind, and tone myself down."

Vinnie switched his attention to Franco. "Satisfied?" he questioned.

Franco nodded. "If he listens to me."

Vinnie nodded as well and looked back at Angelo. "You two are a team. Talk to each other! Don't take chances! Be cool!" Angelo nodded.

"Okay," Vinnie said. "It's decided. Freddie and Richie, get another van. Keep in touch with each other and keep me informed."

"Right!" the men said in unison as they slipped out of the booth.

After the men had left, Vinnie had Paolo Salvato make him yet another espresso. As Vinnie sat in the silent, empty restaurant, he thought of Angelo's plans for Laurie Montgomery. It was perfect, and he fantasized about being there himself. After all the troubles she'd caused him, he'd wanted to whack her when he'd been released from prison, but he hadn't because Lou Soldano had specifically warned him that if something were to happen to Laurie he'd personally come after Vinnie, suspecting the worst. But now, ten years later, Vinnie was confident that enough time had elapsed.