CHAPTER 38

M

ike left the medical examiner's office at 2:35

P.M.

with a set of photos of the dead girl taken at the time of her autopsy and his conversation with the deputy ME fresh in his mind. In the department, homicide news traveled fast. And Mike was always among the first to hear about the new cases. If he wasn't on the scene before the body was taken away, he liked to get the medical details from the horse's mouth first thing.

The homicide in Chinatown interested him only because of April. He didn't like to admit it, but he'd gotten used to working with her, being with her. Now he didn't want to just sleep with her, then take off for the day to deal with other things as if she had a different kind of job. They were still in the same world, and though he didn't like to admit it, he wanted to keep tabs on her and help her. Part of him knew this was bad form. His girlfriend was independent and wanted to make it on her own. He should back off, leave her to come up her own way. She was a good detective and didn't need him to follow her around, giving her tips about how to handle her cases, worming his way in on them whenever he could.

He told himself this, but when the news of the dead woman got to him, he was all over it. He'd missed seeing the victim at the scene and missed the autopsy, but the photos he'd acquired showed her on the table in the clothes she'd been wearing at the time of her death, also without her clothes, face up and face down on the autopsy table before she'd been opened up. There was little tension on her small, battered face. Her features were frozen in a dazed expression, only slightly distorted by her injuries. Although she had no body fat, there seemed to be loose skin on her abdomen. Mike didn't want to ask about that. He'd gotten the photos from Allan Gross, the deputy ME who'd done the autopsy. Dr. Gross told him the girl had been very sick at the time of her death.

"She didn't put up a struggle, so my guess is she was only semiconscious when she was being beaten. I'd be surprised if she could stand up at the time of the assault."

"What kind of person would beat up a sick girl?" Mike muttered.

"Someone who was very mad at her. Her skull is cracked like an eggshell. The hemorrhaging in her brain and the skull fractures suggest somebody banged her head, possibly on a crumbling cement wall, or floor, not once, but many times. Cement and other materials were deeply embedded in her hair and in her scalp wounds. I took a number of samples. Her clothes were sent over to the lab. Looks to me like this happened inside, not outside."

The two men were walking down the hall toward the elevator. Gross was shorter and stockier than Mike. He still wore blood-spattered green scrubs and a green surgical cap on his head.

"I'd like to see her," Mike said.

"No way, not this one," Gross said vehemently.

"Why not?

"You don't want to catch anything." The short ME was new to Mike so he wasn't sure if the doctor was serious.

"Like what?"

"I told you before. She's got tuberculosis."

"I thought you said pneumonia."

"She had tuberculosis. It's in my report." Gross was getting huffy. He pointed at the file in Mike's hand. "It's right in there. This is nothing to play around with. This is dangerous stuff. We can't take chances."

Oh, great. Now they had a missing baby, a murder, and a public health problem on their hands. Mike stared at him.

"Hey, you got the pics. You got a prelim. No one gets results like this faster than I do."

Mike nodded. Yeah, this new doc was very fast all right. Maybe too fast. He couldn't seem to get his diseases straight.

"You're gonna have to find everyone she came in contact with and see that they're tested for TB. There are some bad strains now. What about the baby? He might be sick. The baby's doctor will have to be notified right away. The woman had a baby. He might have it, too. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"And everybody who came in contact with the mother."

Mike was upset. This was a new twist on the baby. This pointed to there being a possible medical reason for the baby's return to its biological mother. It might not be a healthy baby. He made a mental note to check with pediatricians to see about cases of tuberculosis. There were requirements for reporting TB. This was a new lead.

"You going to get on it?" the ME demanded.

"Absolutely," Mike promised.

"Where'd she come from?" The guy was really involved with the health issues. He didn't want to let Mike go. "Somewhere in Asia. Hong Kong? Taiwan?"

"We're working on it."

"You don't know much, do you?"

"You're my first step on this one, doc. I have a few other things on my plate right now."

"Okay. Keep me informed. We've got more paperwork to do on this. And we've got to follow up in the community."

"Sure thing." Now it wasn't just a homicide. It was also a bug story.

When news of the new homicide came in last night, Mike had decided to put the follow-up of the Abraham case on hold. Mickla had been arrested. Now there was his indictment and subsequent appearance before a grand jury to look forward to. The arresting officer would be present for the indictment; so would the primary detective. But the grand jury might not call them. All the arrest papers were in order. The DA's office and Mickla's lawyers had taken over. No one liked the end game, the paperwork. Mike was glad to move on. He drove downtown, armed with the reports in the new case he'd horned in on.

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