by Robin Cook
Several waiters rushed over to right the chair.
"I've had just about as much of this as I can take, " Paul snarled.
Angrily he reached into his pocket and yanked out his billfold. He took several hundred-dollar bills and tossed them contemptuously onto the table.
"This should cover the entertainment, " he said. Then he walked out of the restaurant.
Laurie was mortified. She'd heard about such scenes occurring in public but certainly had never been involved in one herself. Timidly she picked up her cappuccino and took a few sips. Intellectually she knew it was silly for her to pretend that she wasn't bothered by what had transpired, but she couldn't help herself. She felt bound to maintain a charade of calm decorum. She even waited until she finished her coffee to request the check.
When she emerged from the restaurant fifteen minutes later, she was mildly concerned that Paul might be waiting for her. She was relieved when he wasn't because she didn't want to talk to him, at least not for a while. She stood at the curb to get her bearings. The restaurant was on Columbus Avenue on the Upper West Side. She was about to raise her hand to flag down a taxi to take her downtown when she realized she was only twenty or so blocks from Jack's. She decided to pay him a visit.
More than anything else, she needed a friend.
When she got into a cab and gave Jack's address, the driver, who was a born and bred New Yorker, turned around and asked her to repeat it.
After she had, he raised his eyebrows as if to say she was crazy, and they were off.
With little traffic, the ride went quickly. The driver turned left off Columbus as soon as he could and headed north on Central Park West.
Laurie had to point out Jack's building because there was no number.
"You gonna be all right, miss? " the driver inquired after she'd paid.
"This is a rough neighborhood." Laurie assured the man she'd be fine and got out of the cab.
Reaching the sidewalk she looked up at the facade of Jack's building.
It looked as sad as always with only a small piece of its decorative cornice still intact and two windows on the third floor boarded up.
Every time Laurie visited she couldn't help but marvel anew that Jack was still living there. She understood about the basketball, but she thought he could find a better maintained building even if he wanted to stay in the neighborhood.
The foyer was in worse shape than the facade. At one time it had been rather grand, with a mosaic floor and marble walls. Now it was only a shadow of its former self. The floor was missing more than half of its tesserae and the walls were stained and graffiti-filled. None of the mailboxes had functioning locks. Trash littered the corners.
Laurie didn't bother with the buzzer system. She knew it didn't work.
Besides, the inner door had been broken into in the distant past and never repaired.
As Laurie climbed the stairs, her resolve waned. After all, it was late, and she'd not called and was coming uninvited. She also wasn't even sure how much she wanted to talk about her evening before she'd had time to mull it over herself.
On the second-floor landing she stopped. From behind the door of the front apartment she heard yelling and screaming. She remembered that Jack had said there was an interminable argument going on in there.
It made her sad to think people had such trouble getting along with each other.
Laurie debated whether she should proceed. It wasn't until she thought about how she'd feel if the tables were turned how she'd feel if Jack showed up suddenly at her apartment when he was needing a friend.
Realizing she'd be flattered, she pushed on. When she got to his door, she knocked. There was no bell.
When the door was yanked open, Laurie had to suppress a smile. The look of surprise on Jack's stubbled face reminded her of the kind of exaggerated expression a pantomimist might employ. Jack was in his boxer shorts, a V-necked T-shirt, and backless slippers. A medical book was in his hand. He obviously hadn't expected company except, perhaps, for Warren or one of his other local basketball cronies.
"Laurie! " Jack said as if she were an apparition.
Laurie merely nodded.
For an extended moment they just looked at each other.
"Can I come in? " Laurie finally asked.
"Of course, " Jack said, embarrassed that he'd-not invited her in sooner. He stepped to the side. As he closed the door, he remembered his state of undress. Quickly he disappeared into the bedroom to find some shorts.
Laurie walked into the center of the room. There wasn't much furniture, a couch, a chair, a bookcase made out of cinderblocks and bare lumber, and a couple of small tables. There were no paintings or pictures on the walls. The only light came from a floor lamp next to the couch, where Jack had obviously been reading. The rest of the room was lost in shadow. An open bottle of beer was on a small side table.
A medical dictionary was open on the floor.
Jack reappeared moments later tucking a shirt into khaki shorts. He looked apologetic.
"I hope I'm not bothering you, " Laurie said. "I know it's late."
"You're not bothering me in the slightest, " Jack said. "In fact, it's a nice surprise. -Can I take your coat? "
"I suppose, " Laurie said.
She slipped out of it and handed it to him.
He made a beeline for his closet.
"How about a beer? " Jack said as he searched for a hanger.
"No, thanks, " Laurie said. She sat down in the frayed and tattered armchair. Her eyes roamed the room. She knew something about what motivated Jack's domestic asceticism, and it depressed her further. It had been eight years since Jack's family had been killed in the commuter plane crash, and Laurie wished he felt freer to enjoy his life.
"How about something else? " Jack asked as he came into the cone of light from the floor lamp. "Water, tea, or juice? I even have Gatorade."
"I'm fine, actually, " Laurie said. "I just had a big dinner."
"Oh, " Jack said simply. He sat down on the couch.
"I really do hope you don't mind me dropping in on you like this, " Laurie said. "I was at a restaurant not too far away on Columbus Avenue near the Museum of Natural History."
"I'm pleased, " Jack said. "I'm glad to see you."
"So I just thought I'd stop by, " Laurie said. "Since I was so close."
"It's okay, " Jack said.
"Really. I don't mind at all. Honest."
"Thanks, " Laurie said.
"Did something happen at dinner? " Jack questioned.
"Yes, " Laurie said. "A bit of unpleasantness."
"I'm sorry, " Jack said. "Was it because of what Lou and I told you this afternoon? "
"That had something to do with it, " Laurie said.
"Do you want to talk about it? "
"Not really, " Laurie said. "I suppose that sounds illogical, since I've come here to see you instead of going home to my apartment to be by myself."
"Hey, nobody's going to force you to talk about something you don't want to talk about." Laurie nodded.
Jack couldn't tell if she was really okay or if she was on the verge of tears.
"Let's talk about you, " Laurie said, breaking the silence.
"Me? " Jack questioned uneasily.
"I heard that Warren Wilson came by the office today, " Laurie said.
"What was that all about? " Laurie was well acquainted with Warren and knew that he'd never visited the morgue. She and Jack had double-dated with Warren and his girlfriend, Natalie Adams, back when she and Jack had been seeing a lot of each other. They'd even gone on a wild trip to Equatorial Africa together.
"Did you ever meet Flash Thomas? " Jack asked.
Laurie shook her head. "Not that I recall."
"He's another one of the basketball regulars, " Jack explained. "His sister suddenly and inexplicably died sometime last night."
"How awful, " Laurie said.
"Did they want you to look into it? " Jack nodded. "It's quite
a story.
Do you want to hear it? "
"I'd love to, " Laurie said. "But first maybe I'll take you up on the offer of something to drink. I'd love a glass of water." While Jack went into the kitchen, he started telling the story of his afternoon. Laurie settled back and was instantly entertained. When she heard about Randolph Sanders's antics, she was indignant. "The nerve of sending the body out! " she said with emotion. "After you went to the effort of going all the way out there."
Jack shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't all that surprised. In my estimation, he's always had a chip on his shoulder towards us Manhattan MES."
"I think he feels as if he's been unfairly passed over either as the Brooklyn chief or the deputy chief over here, " Laurie said.
"He's been passed over, all right, but for good reason, " Jack added.
When Jack got to the part about forcing his way into the funeral home to get the body fluid samples from Connie Davydov, Laurie found herself laughing so hard, she choked on her water.
Jack went on to tell Laurie about all the possible causes of death he'd come up with. He ended by admitting that Peter Letterman had found nothing, all the assays were negative, even the stomach contents.
"Interesting, " Laurie said while she pondered all the points Jack had raised. "Too bad you couldn't have done a quick autopsy."
"I was lucky to get the skin sample, " Jack said. "But what specifically would you have been looking for, other than the usual? "
"The EMTS specifically said she was cyanotic? " Laurie questioned.
"Yup, " Jack said. "And they found low arterial oxygen when she got to the hospital to confirm it. That's why I thought the culprit was some drug that had depressed her respiration. I was so sure that when Peter reported he'd come up with zilch, I was stunned."
"I would have liked to make sure she didn't have a congenital rightto-left shunt that had reopened."
"I've never seen anything like that, " Jack said.
"Well, it would explain the clinical situation."
"Any other ideas? " Jack asked. "Does any particular kind of poison or drug overdose come to mind? "
"If Peter didn't find anything in her stomach contents, I can't imagine what it could be, " Laurie said.
"But did you consider methemoglobine. , mla?"
"No, but isn't that rather rare? " Methemoglobinemia was a condition where the hemoglobin was rendered incapable of carrying oxygen.
"Well, you're asking me for something that causes cyanosis, " Laurie said. "You should at least consider the nitrates and nitrites which can cause methemoglobinemia. Even the sulfonamides."
"But wouldn't that only be with someone who was congenitally susceptible? " Jack asked.
"Probably in relation to the sulfonamides, " Laurie said. "But not necessarily with the nitrates and nitrites.
Still, if you want to be complete, you have to consider it."
"Okay, you're right, " Jack said.
"I'll ask Peter to assay for them in the morning. Anything else? "
Laurie thought for a few more minutes, but then shook her head.
"There's one more twist to this story, " Jack said. He then went on to tell Laurie about the rat die-off in the same Brooklyn neighborhood where Connie Davydov had lived.
"Do you think there's an association? " Jack shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, but it is a curious coincidence." He told Laurie that Connie apparently lived in an old cottage in an enclave of similar buildings. He mentioned his idea about the plumbing being primitive.
"Seems like a far-fetched connection to me. If something deadly leaked up from the sewer, why would it only be in one house? "
"You got me, " Jack admitted. "But let's go on to my other mystery." Next, Jack told Laurie about Ted's further analysis of the tiny glittering star.
"It's as if the star were made of flypaper and dropped into a bowl of anthrax spores."
"Why is it that you get all the interesting cases?"
" Laurie teased.
"Come on! " Jack said. "I'm serious. Can you explain it? Remember, I cultured all around the star, including the blotter it was sitting on and the desk itself. The PCR test is so sensitive it can detect as little as just a few spores. Everything was clean."
"You've stumped me again, " Laurie said. She glanced at her watch.
"Wow!
It's after midnight, and I'm keeping us both up." She got to her feet.
"Are you going to be okay? " Jack asked. "You're welcome to stay here. . You can have the bed. Half the time I fall asleep out here on the couch anyway."
"Thanks for the offer, " Laurie said. "You've been very hospitable, but I really should go home. I don't have clothes for tomorrow or anything else."
"It's your call, " Jack said.
"You're more than welcome. But if you do go, at least promise me you'll give me a buzz when you get home. It's late to be wandering around even your neighborhood."
"Will do, " Laurie said. She gave Jack a sustained hug.
Jack accompanied Laurie down the stairs and walked her to the corner.
It was much easier to catch a cab on Central Park West.
As Laurie rode downtown she thought about the evening. She was thankful for Jack's hospitality and friendship. Talking with himeven just about workhad calmed her down considerably and provided her with some perspective. What had disturbed her most about the episude with Paul was her inability to have a dialogue with him. She didn't think of herself as being so rigid that she couldn't agree to disagree on certain points, although that didn't include his possibly selling illegal weapons But if she and Paul couldn't communicate, then Laurie saw no future for the relationship irrespective of their apparent day-to-day compatibility By the time Laurie got to her own street, her thoughts had turned to the case Jack had told her about, and she smiled anew about his experience in the funeral home. She hoped he'd not get into trouble for it or for the visit to the Brooklyn ME's office. She was well aware that Harold Bingham and Calvin Washington had little patience for Jack s maverick methods despite their appreciation of his intelligence and competence As Laurie undid the myriad locks on her door, her neighbor's door creaked open. As per usual, Laurie caught a fleeting glimpse of Debra Engler's frizzy gray hair and bloodshot eye.
Debra saw fit to remind Laurie of the lateness of the hour.
Laurie didn't respond. Her neighbor's nosiness at any hour of the day or night was the only thing Laurie couldn't stand about her livin arrangement. She slammed her apartment door in protest and redid all the locks. She'd been directly rude to the woman on several occasion and had even told her to mind her own business, all without success.
Laurie petted Tom-2 and took off her coat in that order. Her affectionate Burmese was insistent and would have climbed up her leg if she tried to execute the two moves in reverse order. She even had to put the purring cat on her lap while she phoned Jack.
"Are you still awake? " Laurie questioned when Jack answered with a sleepy-sounding voice.
"Mostly, " Jack answered.
"I'm checking in, as requested, " Laurie said. "I'm home safe."
"I wish you'd stayed, " Jack said.
Laurie wondered what he truly meant, but from previous experience, she knew better than to try to get him to explain. Besides, . it was late. Instead she said, "I thought about Connie Davydov on the way home."
"Did you come up with any new ideas? "
"I did, " Laurie said.
"I thought of something else you could have Peter look for."
"Good.
What is it? "
"Botulinum toxin, " Laurie said. "It would have to be a high level, meaning she'd gotten a big dose."
There was a silence.
"Jack, are you still there? "
"Yeah, I'm here, " Jack said. "Are you serious? "
"Of course I'm serious, " Laurie said. "What do you think about botulism as the cause of death? "
"To use your words, it seems far-fetched, " Jack said
. "There were no cranial nerve or bulbar symptoms or, for that matter, any symptoms reported suggestive of botulism. Supposedly she walked into the bathroom and collapsed."
"But botulinum toxin certainly depresses respiration and would cause cyanosis, " Laurie said.
"Yeah, but how many cases are there in a year? "
"More cases than of anthrax, " Laurie said. "And you just had one of those."
"Okay, I get your point, " Jack said. "I'll add it to the list along with the nitrates, nitrites, and sulfonamides that I'll give to Peter in the morning."
"Thanks for being there for me tonight, " Laurie said. "It meant a lot to me."
"Hey, any time! " Jack said.
Laurie hung up the phone and snuggled briefly with Tom-2. The thought went through her mind that Jack would be so wonderful if he.. . if he didn't act like Jack. Laurie laughed at the absurdity of the thought and got up to get ready for bed.
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 20
5:30 A. M. Jack could not remember a time in his life when he'd been more preoccupied by so many disparate problems. First, there was Laurie, who confused him both in her behavior and his own reaction to it.
After she'd left early that morning, he'd had a devil of a time getting to sleep. He kept mulling over everything she'd said and done in the previous forty-eight hours. He'd still been feeling guilty about his jealous reaction to her engagement news and angry at her response to his attempt at apology, when she'd arrived on his doorstep unannounced.
He didn't know what to make of it all.
And second, there were the two mysterious cases. Try as he might, he'd not been able to come up with an explanation of the grossly contaminated tiny star. As far as Connie Davydov was concerned, his strong suspicion that she'd been poisoned with a respiratory-depressant drug had been shot full of holes by the toxicology department, and despite several hours of reading and even more hours of thinking, he'd not been able to come up with a replacement theory. Laurie's suggestion of methemoglobinemia was the only idea that he thought had even a slight chance of being correct.