Marker

eighteen

It wasn't long after Laurie and Lou had gone down to face the media that Jack arrived, much to Laurie's surprise. She had suspected he had taken a cab, but Jack had corrected her. He had explained that at that hour of morning, his bike was the vehicle of choice for any crosstown travel when time was of the essence.

For Laurie and Lou, dealing with the journalists had been taxing from the start. Just getting them to quiet down had been difficult, since they had worked themselves into a minor frenzy. The story possibilities of a nameless, headless, handless corpse discovered by accident in the anatomy cooler of a major hospital were in some respects better than those of the two male teenagers getting run over by the A train. With characteristic imagination, some truly lurid scenarios had been envisioned.

Laurie had addressed the journalists first. The idea that the kids had been electrocuted while peeing on the third rail had raised a few eyebrows but no abiding interest. The group had been much more attentive, as well as rowdy, when Lou talked about the unidentified corpse, despite his cleverly not saying anything of substance.

Jack autopsied Rousseau a little while later, working with Marvin while Lou observed. Laurie made it a point not to even watch. Instead, she teamed up with Sal to post the college student found in the park. The cases were finished at about the same time.

Up in the lunchroom, over vending-machine sandwiches and drinks, Jack gave a thumbnail sketch of the findings on Rousseau. He explained that the first bullet had severed the man's spinal cord so that the victim would have been a paraplegic, had it not been for the second bullet. Jack described the second projectile as the coup de grâce, since it pierced the heart after grazing a rib, ending up in the left ventricular wall.

During the short monologue, Laurie struggled to maintain a calm exterior, actively suppressing that the details of what she was hearing concerned someone who was dear to her. To maintain the charade, she actually asked a few technical questions, which Jack was happy to answer. He said there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that the hands and the head had been removed well after the heart had stopped beating. It was also his opinion that the man had not suffered, as death had been almost instantaneous. As far as the bullets were concerned, they were definitely nine-millimeter.

After Lou had called his captain to fill him in on the details of the autopsy, he suggested that Laurie come over to the Manhattan General Hospital with him to help locate and identify whatever kind of lists could be found in Rousseau's office. Laurie agreed immediately. Not to be left out, Jack had asked to tag along. He said he wouldn't miss an opportunity to participate in AmeriCare's deserved comeuppance, certain the media was going to have a field day once they got a whiff of what was going on behind the scenes. Particularly after hearing about Patricia Pruit, he was now firmly in Laurie's camp.

Before leaving the OCME, Laurie took a detour into the communications room behind the ID office to let the operator know she was leaving. She made sure the operator had her cell phone number on hand. As the medical examiner on call, Laurie had to keep in touch.

To get over to the Manhattan General, they all climbed into Lou's Chevrolet Caprice. Laurie got in the front while Jack sat in the back. The morning drizzle had slowed to more of a mist. Still, both Jack and Laurie preferred to have their respective windows open and deal with the moisture rather than breathe the car's interior air. While they rode, Laurie brought Jack up to speed on the phone message Roger had left for her.

"This Najah sounds like a good candidate," Jack said. "Maybe too good. Having an anesthesiologist behind this mystery would go a long way to explain why toxicology has failed to come up with anything. There could be some kind of extremely volatile gas involved."

Lou told Jack what he'd already learned about Najah, specifically regarding his nine-millimeter handgun. He added that the handgun would be tested by ballistics, if they were lucky enough to get their hands on it.

Except for a rather obviously increased uniformed police presence, the hospital appeared to be functioning in its normal, bustling fashion, with people coming and going, and patients in wheelchairs being discharged. A long line of visitors snaked from the information booth, and doctors in white coats and nurses in scrubs crisscrossed the lobby.

Lou excused himself for a moment to talk to one of the policemen. Laurie and Jack stepped to the side.

"How are you holding up?" Jack asked.

"Better than I would have expected," Laurie responded.

"I'm impressed," Jack admitted. "I don't know how you can concentrate with everything that's on your mind."

"Actually, trying to figure out what is going on over here is helpful," Laurie said. "It keeps me from dwelling on my own problems." At the moment, Laurie was referring to the abdominal discomfort she'd been experiencing. It seemed that the jarring she'd experienced in the ride over in Lou's car had aggravated it to a degree. It wasn't as sharp as it had been in the cab the night before, but it was pain nonetheless, and Laurie started thinking seriously about it being appendicitis. The location was correct, even if the presentation was irregular. Just when she was thinking about mentioning it to Jack, Lou returned.

"Let's head down to the crime scene before we hit Rousseau's office," Lou said. "Apparently, the CSI boys have made some headway."

They took the elevator down to the basement level and followed the arrows to the old autopsy amphitheater. The aged leather double doors were propped open with their stops, and a length of yellow crime-scene tape stretched across the entrance. A uniformed police officer stood to the side. Lou ducked under the tape, but when Laurie tried to follow, the policeman blocked her way.

"That's okay," Lou said, coming back to Laurie's aid. "They're with me."

Heavy-duty droplights illuminated the semicircular amphitheater's interior, reaching even the top row of the tiered seats. Several crime-scene investigators were still working.

"Word is you've made some progress," Lou said to the lead tech, Phil.

"I think so," Phil said modestly. He waved for them to follow over to the far wall of the pit. He pointed to markings in chalk on the floor. "We've determined that the body initially ended up here, with the victim's head in contact with the baseboard. Even though the area had been superficially cleaned, we were able to clearly delineate blood spatter, which gave us an idea where the victim had been when he'd been shot."

Phil then took the group back toward the ampitheater's entrance and pointed to two neighboring chalk circles. "This is where we found the two nine-millimeter shell casings, which leads us to believe the killer was about twenty feet from the victim at the time of the shooting."

Lou nodded while looking back and forth between where the body had been found and the cartridge casings.

"And finally," Phil said while motioning for them to follow him again. He walked over and put his hand on the old autopsy table. "This is where the dismemberment occurred."

"A regular operating theater," Lou commented. "That was handy for the killer."

"I should say," Phil responded. He pointed toward the cabinet filled with autopsy instruments. "He even had access to the proper tools. We've been able to determine which knives and saws were used."

"Good work," Lou said. He looked at Laurie and Jack. "You guys have any professional questions?"

"How did you determine the autopsy table had been used to take off the head and the hands?" Jack asked.

"We took the drain apart," Phil said. "There was evidence in the trap."

"Let's see where the body was found," Lou asked.

"No problem," Phil said. He led them back across the pit, beyond where the body had been outlined on the floor, and through a single door into a short hallway. They passed a small, cluttered office, which Phil said was the diener's. At the end of the hall, they came to a stout wooden door that looked as though it belonged in a butcher shop. It made a loud click when Phil opened it. A cool mist that reeked of formaldehyde billowed out to layer itself on the floor.

Both Laurie and Jack were familiar with the style of the room beyond. It was exactly like the anatomy cooler where the cadavers had been stored in medical school before being divvied out for dissection. On either side were rows of naked bodies hanging by tongs inserted into their ear canals and attached to a track in the ceiling.

"The victim's body was on a gurney in the very back, covered by a sheet," Phil said, pointing down the central aisle. "It's a little hard to see the space from here. Want to go back?"

"I think I'll pass," Lou said. He turned around. "Cadaver coolers give me the creeps."

"I'm impressed the body was found so quickly," Jack said. "It looks to me like these other guys have been hanging around for years."

Laurie rolled her eyes. It always amazed her that Jack found humor everywhere. "The murderer didn't want the body found or identified," she added.

"Let's get up to Rousseau's office," Lou suggested.

Since it was a Saturday, the administration office area was mostly deserted. A uniformed police officer reading a copy of the Daily News jumped when he caught sight of the group, particularly Detective Lieutenant Soldano. Behind the officer was the closed door to Roger's office. A piece of yellow crime-scene tape was stretched across the front.

"I trust that no one has been in here," Lou said to the policeman.

"Not since you called this morning, Lieutenant."

Lou nodded and pulled the tape off one side, but before he could open the door, a voice called out his name. Turning around, he saw a tall, lean man with movie-star good looks striding toward him with his hand outstretched. His sandy hair was streaked with gold and his face was tanned, which made his blue eyes seem that much bluer. It appeared as if he'd just returned from the Caribbean. Lou tensed.

"I'm Charles Kelly," the man said, pumping Lou's hand with unnecessary vigor, "president of the Manhattan General Hospital."

Lou had tried to set up a meeting with him the previous day but had been rebuffed, as if it had been beneath the president's dignity. If Lou had felt it had been imperative, he would have insisted, but as it was, he'd had other more pressing things to do.

"Sorry we were unable to connect yesterday," Charles said. "It was a ghastly day, scheduling-wise."

Lou nodded and noticed that Charles was casting a look at Laurie and then at Jack. Lou introduced them.

"I'm afraid I know Dr. Stapleton," Charles said stiffly.

"Good recall!" Jack said. "That must have been a good eight years ago when I helped you guys out when you had all that trouble with those nasty germs."

Charles looked back at Lou. "What are they doing here?" His tone was anything but hospitable.

"They're helping me with my investigation."

Charles nodded as if pondering Lou's explanation. "I will let Dr. Bingham know they were here on Monday. Meanwhile, I wanted to introduce myself to you, Lieutenant, and say that I will avail you of any help we can provide."

"Thank you," Lou said. "I think we're doing okay at the moment."

"There is something I would like to ask of you."

"Okay, shoot," Lou said.

"With two unfortunate murders in as many days, I would like to ask you to be as discreet as possible, particularly about the gruesome details of the one discovered today. Furthermore, I would like to respectfully request that all information to be released goes through our public relations department. We have to think of the institution and limit the collateral damage."

"I'm afraid a smidgen of the lurid facts have already gotten to the media," Lou admitted. "I have no idea how it was leaked, but I was forced to give a mini-press conference. I can assure you that I did not give them any details. In an investigation like this, it is best not to do so."

"That's my opinion precisely," Charles said, "although I imagine for different reasons. In any event, we appreciate any help that you can give us in this most unfortunate circumstance. Good luck with your investigation."

"Thank you, sir," Lou said.

Charles turned and went back into his office.

"What an ass," Jack commented.

"I bet he went to Harvard," Lou said enviously.

"Come on," Laurie urged. "I've got to get back to the OCME."

Lou opened the door and the three walked into Roger's office.

While Laurie hesitated just over the threshold, Lou and Jack went directly over to Roger's desk. Laurie's eyes slowly traversed the room. Being in Roger's space brought back the enormity of her loss. She'd been acquainted with him for only five weeks, and she knew deep down that she really didn't know him, yet she'd liked him and perhaps even loved him. She'd felt intuitively that he was a good person and had been generous to her at a time when she was needy. In some respects, she might have even taken advantage of him to a degree, which caused her a twinge of guilt.

"Laurie, come over here!" Lou called.

Laurie started across the room, but stopped when her cell phone jangled in her coat pocket. It was the OCME operator with the message that a police custody case had come in. Laurie assured her that she'd be back within the hour and asked the operator to tell Marvin to start setting up. Deaths in police custody were politically notorious, and this was certainly one that she'd have to post rather than wait until Monday.

"Looks like we've got a lot of material here," Lou said when Laurie joined him and Jack. "These sheets might be the most important. They've even got stars next to the names." He handed the sheets to Jack, who scanned them before handing them on to Laurie. They were the credentialing records for Dr. José Cabreo and Dr. Motilal Najah.

Laurie read through both. "The timing of Najah's transfer and the fact that he apparently favored the night shift are suspicious, to say the least."

"I'm wondering why the record of his arrest isn't on there," Lou questioned. "That's important for someone handling controlled substances. I mean, it would have to have been on his DEA application."

Laurie shrugged.

"Here's another list that Rousseau put on star on," Lou said. "It's people who transferred from Saint Francis to the General between mid-November and mid-January."

Jack glanced at it and handed it to Laurie.

Laurie read down the list of seven names, noting which department in the hospital they worked. "All these people would easily have access to patients, especially on the night shift."

Lou nodded. "We've got our work cut out for us. It's almost too much. Here's a list of eight docs that got kicked off the General's staff over the last six months. I imagine one of them could be a deranged oddball who'd like to get back at AmeriCare somehow."

"That sounds familiar," Jack said. "Maybe you should add me to that list."

"I'm going to have to get a whole team to start working on all this," Lou said. "If Najah isn't our man, then we'll be looking at interviewing the lot. Hmmm. What's this, I wonder?" Lou held up a CD that was on top of several of the lists.

"Let's check it out," Laurie said. She took the CD and booted up Roger's computer by quickly typing in his password, which caused Jack's eyebrows to rise. Laurie caught the reaction but opted to ignore it.

The CD turned out to be the digital hospital records of all the cases in her series, including those from St. Francis. She guessed that Roger had gotten the St. Francis data when he'd gone over to get the employee records. Laurie explained to Lou what it was and asked if she could take it with her back to the OCME. It might help her when she went over the charts.

Lou thought for a moment. "Can you make a copy?"

Laurie located the computer's CD burner and made herself a copy.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind having copies of all this printed material as well," Laurie said after she thought about it. "Later this afternoon, I'll have time to go over it all, and maybe I'll have some helpful ideas. I'm sure there's a copy machine somewhere close by."

"Not a problem," Lou said. "With this much material, we can use all the help we can get."

The copy machine was just outside Roger's office, and Laurie made copies of all Roger's lists. When she was finished, she told Lou and Jack that she was heading back to the OCME.

"Do you want me to go back with you?" Jack asked. "I mean, I'll even take call if you want to go home."

"I'll be fine," Laurie assured him. "I'd rather stay busy than sit around in my apartment. You're welcome to come, but it's up to you."

Jack looked at Lou. "What's your plan?"

"I want to interview the man who found the body," Lou said.

"Then I want to meet this Najah, and check to see if we lucked out obtaining his gun. It might be that just reminding him of the science of ballistics might make him spill the beans, and wouldn't that be nice."

"Mind if I hang with you for a while?" Jack asked. "I'd like to meet Dr. Najah myself."

"Be my guest."

Jack turned to Laurie. "I'll be over. I'll even help you with that police custody case if you'd like."

"It's not going to be a problem," Laurie said. "I'll see you when I see you, but thanks for coming in and doing the case that you did. I really mean that."

Laurie gave each man a hug and lingered a little longer with Jack. She even gave his arm an added squeeze before walking out.

Prior to leaving the hospital administration area, Laurie took a detour into the ladies' room. Balancing Roger's lists and the CD on the edge of the washbasin, Laurie went into the stall. While she relieved herself, her mind flip-flopped from Roger's untimely demise to those of the two teenagers, whose innocent mischief had caused their deaths. It reminded her that humans, like all living organisms large and small, were always precariously poised on the edge of the abyss.

Preoccupied with such thoughts, Laurie used a small, folded wad of toilet tissue to wipe herself. As she was about to drop the paper in the toilet, she noticed something abnormal. There was a tiny bit of blood. She was spotting!

Laurie instinctively recoiled from the implications. It was only a minute amount of blood, yet as far as she could remember, any bleeding wasn't a good sign during a pregnancy, especially so early. At the same time, the limited exposure she'd had to obstetrics as a medical student had long since faded in her memory, so she didn't want to jump to conclusions.

Why does something like this always have to happen on a weekend? Laurie silently lamented. She'd like to ask Laura Riley the significance but was reluctant to call her on a Saturday. Laurie took a fresh piece of toilet tissue and again blotted herself. The blood didn't reappear, which provided a bit of consolation, yet combining the fact that there had been any blood with the right lower quadrant discomfort she'd been having lately seemed inauspicious at best.

Out at the sink, while she was washing her hands, Laurie looked at herself in the mirror. The last few nights of restless sleep had taken their toll. Although hardly in Janice's league, her eyes had dark circles and looked tired, and her face was drawn. She had a bad feeling that she might be facing yet another upheaval and prayed that if it were to happen, she'd find the emotional reserve to deal with it.