by Robin Cook
"Did you understand that? " Lou asked.
"Not a word, " Jack admitted. "Ted's in his own world up there.
That's why they put the DNA lab on the top floor. We all think the results are coming from heaven."
"I've got to learn more about that DNA stuff, " Lou admitted. "It's becoming more and more important in law enforcement."
"The trouble is the technology is changing so rapidly, " Jack said.
"What's this about a blue star? " Lou asked. "Is that the same blue star you were mumbling about when I came in? "
"One and the same, " Jack said. He went on to tell Lou the story of the tiny, glittering star, including the fact that it was the only thing in the Corinthian Rug Company office that was contaminated with anthrax spores.
"I've seen little stars like you're describing, " Lou said. "In fact, just this year the invitation I got to the Police Ball had them inside the envelope."
"You're right! " Jack said. "I once got an invitation with them in it as well. I'd been wondering where I'd seen them."
"It's a curious thing to find in a rug office, " Lou said. "I wonder if they'd had a party."
"Let's get back to your question, " Jack said. "How are you going to make this decision whether to tell Laurie or not about her new boyfriend's criminal record? "
"I don't know, " Lou said. "I suppose I was hoping you'd offer to tell her."
"Oh, no, you don't, " Jack said. "This is your ball game. You got this information, and it's up to you to decide what to do with it."
"Well, there is more, " Lou said.
Jack's ears picked up. "I'm listening."
"I found out what kind of business he's in."
"That's in his police record? " Jack questioned.
Lou nodded. "He's an arms dealer." Jack's jaw slowly dropped open.
As far as he was concerned, Paul Sutherland's being an arms dealer was far more important vis-a-vis Laurie than his having been convicted of cocaine possession.
"He used to have a monopoly of sorts importing Bulgarian AK-47s, at least until 1994 when the Omnibus Crime Bill was passed and they were banned along with eighteen other semi-automatic assault weapons."
"This is serious, " Jack said.
"Of course it's serious, " Lou said. "These Bulgarian AK-47s are very popular with farright militia groups and other screwy survivalists."
"I'm talking about in relation to Laurie, " Jack said. "Do you have any idea of her stand on gun control?
"
"Not exactly, " Lou admitted.
"Well, let me tell you, " Jack said. "She'd like to disarm the entire country, including patrolmen. She's made gunshot wounds her forensic specialty."
"She never mentioned that to me, " Lou said. He sounded hurt.
"Well, I think the fact that her potential fiance deals in guns is a hell of a lot more important to tell her about than the cocaine bust."
"Does that mean you'll do it? "
"Oh, hell, " Jack said. "Won't you?"
You found out about it, and she'll surely ask me my source. I'll have to say it was you anyway."
"It doesn't matter, " Lou said. "I think you could do it better than I.
You've got so much more in common with her."
"Coward, " Jack said.
"Well, you're hardly being courageous, " Lou pointed out. "Come on!
You see her much more than I do. I mean, you work in the same building."
"All right, I'll think about it, " Jack said. "But I'm not making any.
, , promises.
Jack's phone rang. He snatched the handset from its cradle and his voice sounded almost angry. He quickly mellowed when he heard himself.
Marlene Wilson, the receptionist, was on the other end of the line.
"I hope I'm not bothering you, Dr. Stapleton, " Marlene said. She had a slight southern accent.
"Not at all, " Jack said. "What's up? "
"There are several gentlemen down here to see you, " Marlene said. "Are you expecting anyone? "
"Not that I know of, " Jack said. "What are their names? "
"Just a moment, " Marlene said.
"Hey, I gotta go, " Lou said. He stood up. "I better get out of here before I run into Laurie."
"Keep in touch, " Jack said with a wave.
"We're going to have to make a decision about this sensitive intelligence you've gathered." Lou nodded and disappeared from view.
Marlene came back on the line. "It's Mr. Warren Wilson and a Mr. Flash Thomas. What would you like me to say to them? "
"My word, " Jack said. "Tell them to come on up! " Jack slowly hung up the phone.
He couldn't believe that Warren had come to visit him. Jack had suggested it a few times when he thought Warren would find it interesting to see firsthand what Jack did for a living.
It was part of Jack's attempt to get Warren to go back to school. But Warren had said that there was only one way he'd visit a morgue and that was dead!
Jack got the straight-back chair from next to Chet's desk and pulled it over next to the other one. Then he stepped out into the hall and walked down toward the elevators. He'd timed it just about right, because when he got there the doors opened and out stepped his two basketball buddies.
"This place sucks, " Warren said, making an expression of disgust.
Then he smiled. "How's it going, man? " He held up his hand.
Jack smacked it as if they were greeting each other on the basketball court. He did the same with Flash, who was clearly more intimidated at the surroundings than Warren was.
"It's going like most days, " Jack said. "Except for your visit. I'm shocked to see you guys, but come on into my office." Jack led the way down the hall.
"This place smells weird, " Flash said.
"It reminds me of a hospital, " Warren said.
"No hospital I'd ever want to be in, " Flash said with a nervous laugh.
"You told me you did autopsies in a place called the pit, " Warren said.
"This whole place looks like a pit."
"It could use a bit of a renovation, " Jack admitted. He gestured inside his office.
The three sat down.
Jack smiled. "Did you fellows come all the way down here just to make sure I was going to play tonight?
"
"You should have played last night, " Warren said. "You had your chance to run with us. We never lost."
"Maybe I'll luck out tonight, " Jack said.
Warren looked at Flash. "You want to ask him or you want me to? "
"You do it, " Flash said as he fidgeted in his seat. He was clearly agitated.
Warren turned to Jack. "Flash got some bad news this morning. His sister died."
"I'm sorry to hear that, " Jack said. He glanced at Flash, but Flash avoided his eyes.
"She wasn't all that old, " Warren said. "About your age. It was sudden like. And Flash here thinks there had to be some negative stuff going on. You see, she and her old man didn't get on too well, you hear what I'm saying? "
"Am I to assume there was a little domestic violence involved in this relationship? " Jack asked.
"If that's what you call his smacking her around now and then, " Warren said.
"That's the usual euphemism, " Jack said.
"A lot of domestic violence, " Flash interjected heatedly.
"Cool it, " Warren said to Flash. He gave Flash's shoulder a reassuring pat. Turning back to Jack he added, "I had to talk Flash out of going out there and beating the pulp out of his sister's hubby."
"The son of a bitch killed her, " Flash growled.
"Come on, man! " Warren pleaded. "You don't know that for sure."
"I know it, " Flash said.
Warren turned to Jack. "You see what I'm up against. If Flash goes out there, there's going to be trouble. Somebody's going to be dead, and I don't think it's going to be Flash."
"What can I do to help? " Jack asked.
"See if you can find out what killed her, " Warren said. "
If she died of something natural-like, then Flash here's going to have to take his irritation out on something else, like on you and me on the court." Warren gave Flash a friendly cuff on the top of the head. Flash parried the blow irritably.
"Where is her body at the moment? " Jack asked.
"At the morgue in Brooklyn, " Warren said. "At least that's what Flash was told by the Coney Island Hospital where she'd been treated."
"Well, then it's going to be easy, " Jack said. "I'll talk to whoever does her autopsy, and we'll have the answer."
"There ain't going to be no autopsy, " Flash blurted. "That's part of what's bothering me.
They took her to the morgue to have an autopsy, but now she's not going to. Something's wrong here, you know what I'm saying? "
"Not necessarily, " Jack said. "Not every corpse brought into the medical examiner's office is autopsied.
In fact, that she wasn't autopsied means that the chances of foul play are small. Since she died at a hospital, it means that the attending doctor certified the cause of death, and in that case an autopsy is not mandatory."
"Flash is thinking conspiracy here, " Warren said.
"I can assure you there's no conspiracy, " Jack said. "Incompetence, maybe, but conspiracy, no."
"But.. ." Flash began.
"Hold on! " Jack interrupted. "I'll still look into it for you. What was her name? "
"Connie Davydov, " Flash said.
Jack wrote the name down and reached for the phone. He called the Brooklyn office, which administratively was part of the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner of New York. Technically Bingham was chief, but the Brooklyn office had its own acting head. His name was Jim Bennett.
"Who's the scheduling ME this week? " Jack asked the operator who answered after Jack had identified himself.
"Dr. Randolph Sanders, " the operator said. "Would you like me to page him? "
"If you wouldn't mind, " Jack said. He wasn't pleased.
He was reasonably acquainted with Randolph, whom he put in the same category with perfunctories like George Fontworth. Jack tapped his pencil while he waited. He wished he'd be dealing with any one of the four other Brooklyn MES.
When Randolph came on the line Jack wasted no time getting to the point.
He asked why an autopsy wasn't done on Connie Davydov.
"I'll have to get the folder, " Randolph said. "Why do you ask? "
"I've gotten a request to look into the case, " Jack said. He left it vague who had asked him. If Randolph wanted to think it was Bingham or Calvin, that was fine with Jack.
"Hold on, " Randolph said.
Jack turned to Flash with his palm over the mouthpiece of the phone.
"Davydov doesn't sound like any African-American name I've ever heard."
"It's not, " Flash said. "Connie's husband is a white boy." Jack nodded, sensing there was more reason for possible hostility between Flash and Connie's spouse than the purported history of domestic violence.
"Did he get along with the rest of your family? "
"Ha! " Flash voiced contemptuously. "The family wouldn't talk to either one of them. They didn't want her to marry him, no way."
"Okay, I have the folder, " Randolph said into the phone, capturing Jack's attention.
"And I've got the PA's report in front of me."
"What's the scoop? " Jack asked.
"The attending doctor, Michael Cooper, gave a diagnosis of status asthmaticus leading to death, "
Randolph said. "There was a long history of asthma with hospitalizations and multiple ER visits. She was also grossly obese, which I'm sure didn't help her breathing when she got into trouble. It also says she had lots of allergies."
"I see, " Jack said. "Tell me, did you look at the body? "
"Of course I looked at the body! " Randolph was clearly offended by the query.
"In your professional opinion, were there any signs of domestic violence? " Jack asked.
"If there'd been signs of domestic violence I would have done the goddamned autopsy, " Randolph said defensively.
"Any signs of suffocation? " Jack asked. "Like petechial hemorrhages in the sclera. Anything like that? "
"You're insulting me with such questions, " Randolph shot back.
"How about toxicology? " Jack asked. "Were any samples taken? "
"An autopsy wasn't done! " Randolph snapped. "We don't do toxicology on cases we don't post.
Neither do you." Randolph disconnected without another word. Jack raised his eyebrows as he hung up the receiver.
"Kinda sensitive guy although in his defense my lack of diplomatic skills is legendary. Anyhow, did you hear the other end of that conversation? " Both Warren and Flash nodded. "He said there was no sign of domestic violence, " Jack said. "Now he's not the world's greatest medical examiner in my opinion, but recognizing domestic violence isn't that hard even though it can be subtle."
"Why did you ask about toxicology? " Warren questioned.
"Poisons, things like that are picked up in toxicology, " Jack said.
"That kind of stuff goes on." Warren looked at Flash.
"Do you want me to continue looking into this? " Jack asked.
Flash nodded. "I'm sure he killed her."
"After what you just heard, why do you still feel that way? "
"Because she didn't have no strong history of asthma and allergies."
"Are you sure? " Jack asked with astonishment.
"Yeah, I'm sure, " Flash said. "I'm her brother, ain't I? Hey, she had a little when she was young. But I'm talking about when she was ten.
Over the last couple of years I've been talking to her at least once a week. She didn't have no allergies and no asthma."
"My word, " Jack said. "That puts a new spin on all this."
"What else can you do? " Warren asked.
"I can call the attending doctor, for one thing, " Jack said. "The doctor that took care of her at the Coney Island Hospital." Since Jack had the Yellow Pages open to the hospital section, it was easy for him to get the number. He called and asked for Dr. Michael Cooper to be paged. When he got the man on the line, he went through his usual ME routine of explaining who he was and why he was calling. In contrast to Randolph, Michael was cooperative and not at all defensive.
"I do remember Connie Davydov, " Michael said. "Tough case! She came in essentially moribund. The EMTS described her as very cyanotic when they arrived at her home and barely breathing if at all. She'd collapsed in the bathroom where her husband found her. They gave her oxygen immediately and ventilated her. When she got here to the ER she was acidotic with a CO2 off the chart and low arterial oxygen saturation.
The numbers improved with adequate ventilation but her clinical state didn't. She had no peripheral reflexes, dilated and fixed pupils, and an essentially flat EEG. There wasn't much we could do."
"How did her chest sound? " Jack asked.
"By the time she got here, it sounded clear, " Michael said. "But that didn't surprise us with the low oxygen saturation and the degree of acidosis she had. All her muscles, including her smooth muscles, were essentially paralyzed. Considering her size, she was like a beached whale."
"Any suggestion of a heart attack? "
"Nope, " Michael said.
"The EKG was essentially normal, although the rate was very slow, and there were some changes consistent with her low arterial oxygen."
"What about stroke? "
"We ruled that out with a CAT scan that was normal, " Michael said. "We also did an LP, and the fluid was clear."
"Any fever, skin lesions, or other signs of infection? " Jack asked.
"Nothing, " Michael said. "In fact, her temperature was subnormal."
"And you did get a strong history of asthma and allergies, " Jack said.
"How did you get it? Was it through hospital records? "
"No, from the husband, " Michael said. "He was pretty together despite his ordeal and was able to give us a good history." Jack thanked th
e man and hung up. He turned to Warren and Flash. "This is getting more interesting.
It doesn't sound as if the history was corroborated. I think maybe I ought to take a look at Connie."
"Can you do that? " Warren asked.
"Why not? " Jack said.
Jack went back to the phone to try to get Randolph on the line directly, but no one picked up. Next he tried paging him. When the operator came back to ask who was calling, Jack gave his name and waited again. When the operator returned the second time, she told him that the doctor was busy. Jack left a message that he was on his way over.
"Seems that Dr. Sanders is indulging in a bit of passive-aggressive behavior, " Jack said as he stood up.
He picked up his cellular phone and his small camera and pocketed both. "What do you guys want to do? You're welcome to come along."
"You want to go? " Warren asked Flash. "I got the time." Flash nodded.
"I want to see this to the end."
"How'd you get here to the ME's office? " Jack asked.
Warren held up an ignition key. "I got my wheels parked right outside on Thirtieth Street."
"Perfect, " Jack said. "Let's go! " They took the elevator down to the basement and were about to exit through the loading dock area when Jack paused.
"I've just been thinking, " he said. "Who knows what my reception's going to be over in Brooklyn. It might be best to bring my own supplies."
"What kind of supplies you talking about? " Warren asked.
"It'll take too long to explain, " Jack said. "You guys wait here or out by the car. I'll be right back."
Jack detoured into the depths of the morgue, passing the bank of refrigerated compartments where the bodies were stored prior to being autopsied. Conveniently, he ran into Vinnie coming out of the pit. Jack asked the mortuary tech to get him a bunch of sample containers for various body fluids, a mask, rubber gloves, a clutch of syringes, a couple of scalpels, and a nasogastric tube.
"What the hell are you going to do? " Vinnie asked. He eyed Jack suspiciously.
"Probably going to get myself in hot water, " Jack said.
"Are you going out of house? "
"I'm afraid so."
"You want me to come along? " Vinnie asked.
"Thank you, but no, " Jack said. "But I appreciate the offer." It didn't take Vinnie long to get the material, and by the time he reappeared Jack had gotten a small satchel he used to carry an extra set of underclothes back and forth between work and his apartment.