The Serpent's Kiss

72

The medical examiner’s office wasn’t far from Wayne State University, at 1300 E. Warren Avenue. Derek and Jill were met by a receptionist at the front desk, who called an M.E.’s investigator to come talk to them. The investigator was a short, balding black man in his fifties wearing gray slacks, a blue knit shirt and a worn blue sport coat. His name was Jerry Ford. “No relation,” he growled. He studied their I.D. and said, “There’s already an FBI agent in there.”

Jill swallowed. “Who’s that?”

“Woman. Toreanno.”

Jill brightened. “That’s fine.”

“Follow me, then.”

They threaded their way down to the autopsy room. There was an isolation room separated from the main autopsy area and Ford took them to an observation center with a wall of glass looking down over it. Simona Toreanno was leaning against one wall, scanning her notebook when they appeared. She raised an eyebrow. “Jill. I heard you’re—”

Jill raised a quieting hand. Toreanno glanced at Ford and nodded, taking in Derek Stillwater. “Who’s this?” she asked.

Derek introduced himself.

“Hmm.” Toreanno looked at Ford. “What can you tell us, sir?”

Ford shrugged. “Guy’s dead. They’re just figuring out how to get the body into this room. This is the decomp room. You know, for badly decomposed bodies. Its air system is isolated from the rest of the facility. We figure it’s the best way to go with this sarin exposure.”

“Good idea,” Derek said. “How long will it be before they get it here?”

“Any time… oh, there we go.” He turned to look through the glass. “The tall Indian guy, that’s the Chief Pathologist, Dr. Vijay Rajanikant. Most people call him Dr. Raj. There’s the intercom button.” He tapped it and said, “Dr. Raj, this is Jerry. We’ve got a couple FBI agents up here.”

Raj glanced up at them. He was completely gowned, gloved and masked. “Fine, fine.”

Derek stepped forward and tapped the intercom button. “Dr. Rajanikant, this is Dr. Derek Stillwater. I’m with the Department of Homeland Security. I’ve had some experience dealing with sarin deaths.”

“Very good, very good.” Dr. Raj had a high-pitched, accented voice.

“But,” Derek continued, “our number one priority here is to try and determine time of death. Have you taken the temp yet?”

“No, we have been too concerned with isolation. Not yet, not yet.”

“I understand. Once you get things in place, would you please check liver temperature.”

“Certainly, certainly. Do you wish to tell me what this is all about?”

“After you determine time of death I’ll be glad to tell you what I’m thinking.”

“Fine. Fine.”

Simona Toreanno said, “Let me guess, you don’t think he’s The Serpent.”

Jill and Derek passed a significant look between each other. Jerry Ford shrugged. “You need me any longer?” he asked, despite his obvious curiosity.

“I don’t think so, thank you,” Toreanno said.

Ford lingered on Derek for a moment. “Been hearing about you all day on the news.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear on TV,” Derek said.

Ford nodded. “Don’t, that’s fo’ sure. You really think that guy didn’t do it?” He pointed to the decomp room.

“I’m keeping my mind open,” Derek said. “But we’d better be sure or some more people might die.”

“Good for you,” Ford said. “Keep in touch.”

“Okay, okay” Dr. Raj said. “I’m going to take a liver temperature now.” In the decomp room, Dr. Raj slowly unzipped the body bag to reveal William Harrington. With the assistance of another gowned pathologist, they got him out of the bag and rolled over. “I will first take the rectal temperature,” he said, and using a scalpel he sliced the clothing off Harrington’s body, leaving him naked and exposed on the steel table. The second pathologist carefully placed the clothing in a special hazardous materials container.

Jill, Derek and Toreanno watched in silence, expressionless. Raj inserted a rectal thermometer into the corpse. “Dr. Stillwater,” he said. “You do understand, of course, the imprecise nature of determining time of death. You do understand?”

“Yes, Doctor. Please do your best.”

“Of course, of course. My understanding is that he is believed to have died in the last hour or two.”

“Sometimes after 2:40 P.M.,” offered Agent Toreanno.

“I see, I see,” said Dr. Raj. He removed the rectal thermometer and jotted a notation down on a notepad. Then he took the scalpel, cut a small incision on Harrington’s back and inserted a probe into the body. While he waited, he manipulated Harrington’s wrist and arm.

“What do you think, Doctor?” Derek asked into the intercom.

“I think I will wait a few moments, please, please, before making my determination. Most interesting, most interesting.”

Derek frowned and stepped back from the window, arms crossed over his chest. Toreanno said, “Why are you two here?”

Jill said, “We think there are some questions that need to be answered before we call this a closed case.”

“Matt’s smearing both of you all over the media.”

“We noticed.”

“You’ve been relieved of duty.”

“Yes,” Jill said, locking eyes with Toreanno.

Toreanno returned the gaze. Then she smiled. “Fuck the bastard. You’re on my team now. I’ve got all the names of the people involved with the CBCTR’s Working Group.” She waved at the autopsy room. “I hope to God he’s The Serpent, but I could never live with myself if this turned out to be some kind of trick.”

Derek turned to her. “I’d like to see that list.”

She handed it to him.

A moment later, Dr. Raj, after checking some numbers, clicked on the intercom. “Dr. Stillwater? Are you there? Dr. Stillwater?”

“Yes. Right here.”

“You do realize, of course, that this is not precise. Not precise at all. I can only give you a range.”

“I understand.”

“Yes, well, you see, yes, I believe our body here has been dead for considerably longer than the three or four hours you suggest.”

“How long, Doctor?”

“I would have to say from eight to ten hours, at least. Possibly even longer. Eight to ten hours.”