Authors: Robin Cook
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Suspense Fiction, #Fiction - Espionage, #Thriller, #Detective and mystery stories, #Espionage, #Onbekend, #Medical, #Medical novels, #New York (N.Y.), #Forensic pathologists, #Equatorial Guinea, #Forensic pathologists - Fiction, #Robin - Prose & Criticism, #Equatorial Guinea - Fiction, #Cook, #New York (N.Y.) - Fiction
Chromosome 6 (5 page)
As the connection went through, she could imagine Jack coming up the cluttered stairwell in his
dilapidated building. Although she thought she understood why he'd originally rented his apartment, she had trouble comprehending why he stayed. The building was so depressing. On the other hand, as she glanced around at her own flat, she had to admit, there wasn't a lot of difference once Jack got inside his unit except he had almost double the space. The phone rang at the other end. Laurie counted the rings. When she got to ten she began to doubt her familiarity with his schedule. She was about to hang up when Jack answered. "Yeah?" he said unceremoniously. He was out of breath. "Tonight's your lucky night," Laurie said. "Who is this?" Jack asked. "Is that you, Laurie?" "You sound out of breath," Laurie said. "Does that mean you lost at basketball?" "No, it means I ran up four flights of stairs to get the phone," Jack said. "What's happening? Don't tell me you're still at work?"
"Heavens, no," Laurie said. "I've been home for an hour." "So why is this my lucky night?" Jack asked. "I stopped by Gristede's on the way home and picked up the makings of your favorite dinner," Laurie said. "It's all ready to go into the broiler. All you have to do is shower and get yourself down here." "And I thought I owed you an apology for laughing at the vanishing mafioso," Jack said. "If amends are needed it's surely from my side."
"There's no atonement involved," Laurie said. "I would just enjoy your company. But there's one condition."
"Uh-oh," Jack said. "What?"
"No bike tonight," Laurie said. "You have to come by cab or the deal's off." "Taxis are more dangerous than my bike," Jack complained. "No argument," Laurie said. "Take it or leave it. If and when you slide under a bus and end up on a slab in the pit, I don't want to feel responsible." Laurie felt her face flush. It was an issue she didn't even like to joke about.
"Okay," Jack said agreeably. "I should be there in thirty-five to forty minutes. Shall I bring some wine?" "That would be great," Laurie said.
Laurie was pleased. She'd been unsure if Jack would accept the invitation. Over the previous year they had been seeing each other socially, and several months ago, Laurie had admitted to herself that she'd fallen in love with him. But Jack seemed reluctant to allow the relationship to progress to the next level of commitment. When Laurie tried to force the issue, Jack had responded by distancing himself. Feeling
dilapidated building. Although she thought she understood why he'd originally rented his apartment, she had trouble comprehending why he stayed. The building was so depressing. On the other hand, as she glanced around at her own flat, she had to admit, there wasn't a lot of difference once Jack got inside his unit except he had almost double the space. The phone rang at the other end. Laurie counted the rings. When she got to ten she began to doubt her familiarity with his schedule. She was about to hang up when Jack answered. "Yeah?" he said unceremoniously. He was out of breath. "Tonight's your lucky night," Laurie said. "Who is this?" Jack asked. "Is that you, Laurie?" "You sound out of breath," Laurie said. "Does that mean you lost at basketball?" "No, it means I ran up four flights of stairs to get the phone," Jack said. "What's happening? Don't tell me you're still at work?"
"Heavens, no," Laurie said. "I've been home for an hour." "So why is this my lucky night?" Jack asked. "I stopped by Gristede's on the way home and picked up the makings of your favorite dinner," Laurie said. "It's all ready to go into the broiler. All you have to do is shower and get yourself down here." "And I thought I owed you an apology for laughing at the vanishing mafioso," Jack said. "If amends are needed it's surely from my side."
"There's no atonement involved," Laurie said. "I would just enjoy your company. But there's one condition."
"Uh-oh," Jack said. "What?"
"No bike tonight," Laurie said. "You have to come by cab or the deal's off." "Taxis are more dangerous than my bike," Jack complained. "No argument," Laurie said. "Take it or leave it. If and when you slide under a bus and end up on a slab in the pit, I don't want to feel responsible." Laurie felt her face flush. It was an issue she didn't even like to joke about.
"Okay," Jack said agreeably. "I should be there in thirty-five to forty minutes. Shall I bring some wine?" "That would be great," Laurie said.
Laurie was pleased. She'd been unsure if Jack would accept the invitation. Over the previous year they had been seeing each other socially, and several months ago, Laurie had admitted to herself that she'd fallen in love with him. But Jack seemed reluctant to allow the relationship to progress to the next level of commitment. When Laurie tried to force the issue, Jack had responded by distancing himself. Feeling
rejected, Laurie had responded with anger. For weeks, they only spoke on a professional basis.
Over the last month their relationship had slowly improved. They were seeing each other again casually. This time Laurie realized that she had to bide her time. The problem was that at age thirty-seven it was not easy. Laurie had always wanted to become a mother someday. With forty fast approaching, she felt she was running out of time.
With the dinner essentially prepared, Laurie went around her small one-bedroom apartment straightening up. That meant putting odd books back into their spots on the shelves, stacking medical journals neatly, and emptying Tom's litter box. Tom was her six-and-a-half-year-old tawny tabby who was still as wild as he'd been as a kitten. Laurie straightened the Klimt print that the cat always knocked askew on his daily route from the bookcase to the top of the valence over the window. Next Laurie took a quick shower, changed into a turtleneck and jeans, and put on a touch of makeup. As she did so she glared at the crow's feet that had been developing at the corners of her eyes. She didn't feel any older than when she'd gotten out of medical school, yet there was no denying the advance of years.
Jack arrived on schedule. When Laurie looked through the peephole, all she could see was a bloated image of his broadly grinning face, which he had positioned a mere inch from the lens. She smiled at his antics as she undid the host of locks that secured her door. "Get in here, you clown!" Laurie said.
"I wanted to be sure you recognized me," Jack said as he stepped past her. "My chipped, upper-left incisor has become my trademark."
Just as Laurie was closing her door she caught a glimpse of her neighbor, Mrs. Engler, who'd cracked her door to see who was visiting Laurie. Laurie glared at her. She was such a busybody. The dinner was a success. The food was perfect and the wine was okay. Jack's excuse was that the liquor store closest to his apartment specialized in jug wine, not the better stuff. During the course of the evening, Laurie had to continually bite her tongue to keep the conversation away from sensitive areas. She would have loved to talk about their relationship, but she didn't dare. She sensed that some of Jack's hesitance stemmed from his extraordinary personal tragedy. Six years previously, his wife and two daughters had been tragically killed in a commuter-plane crash. Jack had told Laurie about it after they had been dating for several months, but then refused to talk about it again. Laurie sensed that this loss was the biggest stumbling block to their relationship. In a way, this belief helped her to take Jack's reluctance to commit himself less personally. Jack had no trouble keeping the conversation light. He'd had a good evening playing pickup basketball at his neighborhood playground and was happy to talk about it. By chance he'd been teamed up with Warren, an all-around impressive African-American, who was the leader of the local gang and by far the best player. Jack and Warren's team didn't lose all evening. "How is Warren?" Laurie asked. Jack and Laurie had frequently double-dated with Warren and his girlfriend, Natalie Adams. Laurie hadn't seen either of them since before she and Jack had their falling-out.
"Warren's Warren," Jack said. He shrugged. "He's got so much potential. I've tried my best to get him to
Over the last month their relationship had slowly improved. They were seeing each other again casually. This time Laurie realized that she had to bide her time. The problem was that at age thirty-seven it was not easy. Laurie had always wanted to become a mother someday. With forty fast approaching, she felt she was running out of time.
With the dinner essentially prepared, Laurie went around her small one-bedroom apartment straightening up. That meant putting odd books back into their spots on the shelves, stacking medical journals neatly, and emptying Tom's litter box. Tom was her six-and-a-half-year-old tawny tabby who was still as wild as he'd been as a kitten. Laurie straightened the Klimt print that the cat always knocked askew on his daily route from the bookcase to the top of the valence over the window. Next Laurie took a quick shower, changed into a turtleneck and jeans, and put on a touch of makeup. As she did so she glared at the crow's feet that had been developing at the corners of her eyes. She didn't feel any older than when she'd gotten out of medical school, yet there was no denying the advance of years.
Jack arrived on schedule. When Laurie looked through the peephole, all she could see was a bloated image of his broadly grinning face, which he had positioned a mere inch from the lens. She smiled at his antics as she undid the host of locks that secured her door. "Get in here, you clown!" Laurie said.
"I wanted to be sure you recognized me," Jack said as he stepped past her. "My chipped, upper-left incisor has become my trademark."
Just as Laurie was closing her door she caught a glimpse of her neighbor, Mrs. Engler, who'd cracked her door to see who was visiting Laurie. Laurie glared at her. She was such a busybody. The dinner was a success. The food was perfect and the wine was okay. Jack's excuse was that the liquor store closest to his apartment specialized in jug wine, not the better stuff. During the course of the evening, Laurie had to continually bite her tongue to keep the conversation away from sensitive areas. She would have loved to talk about their relationship, but she didn't dare. She sensed that some of Jack's hesitance stemmed from his extraordinary personal tragedy. Six years previously, his wife and two daughters had been tragically killed in a commuter-plane crash. Jack had told Laurie about it after they had been dating for several months, but then refused to talk about it again. Laurie sensed that this loss was the biggest stumbling block to their relationship. In a way, this belief helped her to take Jack's reluctance to commit himself less personally. Jack had no trouble keeping the conversation light. He'd had a good evening playing pickup basketball at his neighborhood playground and was happy to talk about it. By chance he'd been teamed up with Warren, an all-around impressive African-American, who was the leader of the local gang and by far the best player. Jack and Warren's team didn't lose all evening. "How is Warren?" Laurie asked. Jack and Laurie had frequently double-dated with Warren and his girlfriend, Natalie Adams. Laurie hadn't seen either of them since before she and Jack had their falling-out.
"Warren's Warren," Jack said. He shrugged. "He's got so much potential. I've tried my best to get him to
take some college courses, but he resists. He says my value system isn't his, so I've given up."
"And Natalie?"
"Fine, I guess," Jack said. "I haven't seen her since we all went out." "We should do it again," Laurie said. "I miss seeing them." "That's an idea," Jack said evasively.
There was a pause. Laurie could hear Tom's purring. After eating and cleaning up, Jack moved to the couch. Laurie sat across from him in her art-deco club chair she'd purchased in the Village. Laurie sighed. She felt frustrated. It seemed juvenile that they couldn't talk about emotionally important issues.
Jack checked his watch. "Uh-oh!" he said. He moved himself forward so that he was sitting on the very edge of the couch. "It's quarter to eleven," Jack added. "I've got to be going. It's a school night and bed is beckoning."
"More wine?" Laurie asked. She held up the jug. They'd only drunk a quarter of it. "I can't," Jack said. "I've got to keep my reflexes sharp for the cab ride home." He stood up and thanked Laurie for the meal.
Laurie put down the wine and got to her feet. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ride with you as far as the morgue."
"What?" Jack questioned. He scrunched up his face in disbelief. "You're not going to work at this hour? I mean, you're not even on call."
"I just want to question the night mortuary tech and security," Laurie said, as she went to the hall closet for their coats.
"What on earth for?" Jack asked.
"I want to figure out how Franconi's body disappeared," Laurie said. She handed Jack his bomber jacket. "I talked to the evening crew when they came on this afternoon." "And what did they tell you?"
"Not a whole bunch," Laurie said. "The body came in around eight forty-five with an entourage of police and media. Apparently it was a circus. I guess that's why the X ray was overlooked. Identification was made by the mother-a very emotional scene by all reports. By ten forty-five the body was placed in the fridge in compartment one eleven. So I think it's pretty clear the abduction occurred during the night shift from eleven to seven."
"Why are you worrying yourself about this?" Jack said. "This is the front office's problem." Laurie pulled on her coat and got her keys. "Let's just say that I've taken a personal interest in the case."
"And Natalie?"
"Fine, I guess," Jack said. "I haven't seen her since we all went out." "We should do it again," Laurie said. "I miss seeing them." "That's an idea," Jack said evasively.
There was a pause. Laurie could hear Tom's purring. After eating and cleaning up, Jack moved to the couch. Laurie sat across from him in her art-deco club chair she'd purchased in the Village. Laurie sighed. She felt frustrated. It seemed juvenile that they couldn't talk about emotionally important issues.
Jack checked his watch. "Uh-oh!" he said. He moved himself forward so that he was sitting on the very edge of the couch. "It's quarter to eleven," Jack added. "I've got to be going. It's a school night and bed is beckoning."
"More wine?" Laurie asked. She held up the jug. They'd only drunk a quarter of it. "I can't," Jack said. "I've got to keep my reflexes sharp for the cab ride home." He stood up and thanked Laurie for the meal.
Laurie put down the wine and got to her feet. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ride with you as far as the morgue."
"What?" Jack questioned. He scrunched up his face in disbelief. "You're not going to work at this hour? I mean, you're not even on call."
"I just want to question the night mortuary tech and security," Laurie said, as she went to the hall closet for their coats.
"What on earth for?" Jack asked.
"I want to figure out how Franconi's body disappeared," Laurie said. She handed Jack his bomber jacket. "I talked to the evening crew when they came on this afternoon." "And what did they tell you?"
"Not a whole bunch," Laurie said. "The body came in around eight forty-five with an entourage of police and media. Apparently it was a circus. I guess that's why the X ray was overlooked. Identification was made by the mother-a very emotional scene by all reports. By ten forty-five the body was placed in the fridge in compartment one eleven. So I think it's pretty clear the abduction occurred during the night shift from eleven to seven."
"Why are you worrying yourself about this?" Jack said. "This is the front office's problem." Laurie pulled on her coat and got her keys. "Let's just say that I've taken a personal interest in the case."
Jack rolled his eyes as they exited into the hall. "Laurie!" he intoned. "You're going to get yourself in
trouble over this. Mark my word."
Laurie pushed the elevator button then glared at Mrs. Engler, who'd cracked her door as usual. "That woman drives me crazy," Laurie said as they boarded the elevator. "You're not listening to me," Jack said. "I'm listening," Laurie said. "But I'm still going to look into this. Between this stunt and my run-in with Franconi's predecessor, it irks me that these two-bit mobsters think they can do whatever they please. They think laws are for other people. Pauli Cerino, the man Lou mentioned this morning, had people killed so that he didn't have to wait too long to have corneal transplants. That gives you an idea of their ethics. I don't like the idea that they think they can just come into our morgue and walk off with the body of a man they just killed."
They emerged onto Nineteenth Street and walked toward First Avenue. Laurie put up her collar. There was a breeze off the East River, and it was only in the twenties. "What makes you think the mobsters are behind this?" Jack asked. "You don't have to be a rocket scientist to assume as much," Laurie said. She put up her hand as a cab approached, but it zoomed past without slowing. "Franconi was going to testify as part of a plea bargain. The higher-ups of the Vaccarro organization got angry or scared or both. It's an old story." "So they killed him," Jack said. "Why take the body?" Laurie shrugged. "I'm not going to pretend I can put my mind into a mobster's," she said. "I don't know why they wanted the body. Maybe to deny him a proper burial. Maybe they're afraid an autopsy would provide a clue to the killer's identity. Hell, I don't know. But ultimately it doesn't matter why." "I have a sense the 'why' might be important," Jack said. "I think by getting involved you'll be skating on thin ice."
"Maybe so," Laurie said. She shrugged again. "I get caught up in things like this. I suppose part of the problem is that at the moment my main focus in life is my job." "Here comes a free cab," Jack said, deliberately avoiding having to respond to Laurie's last comment. He sensed the implications and was reluctant to get drawn into a more personal discussion. It was a short cab ride down to the corner of First Avenue and Thirtieth Street. Laurie climbed out and was surprised when Jack did the same.
"You don't have to come," Laurie said.
"I know," Jack said. "But I'm coming anyway. In case you haven't guessed, you have me concerned." Jack leaned back inside the cab and paid the driver. Laurie was still insisting that Jack's presence was not needed as they walked between the Health and Hospital's mortuary vans. They entered the morgue through the Thirtieth Street entrance. "I thought you
trouble over this. Mark my word."
Laurie pushed the elevator button then glared at Mrs. Engler, who'd cracked her door as usual. "That woman drives me crazy," Laurie said as they boarded the elevator. "You're not listening to me," Jack said. "I'm listening," Laurie said. "But I'm still going to look into this. Between this stunt and my run-in with Franconi's predecessor, it irks me that these two-bit mobsters think they can do whatever they please. They think laws are for other people. Pauli Cerino, the man Lou mentioned this morning, had people killed so that he didn't have to wait too long to have corneal transplants. That gives you an idea of their ethics. I don't like the idea that they think they can just come into our morgue and walk off with the body of a man they just killed."
They emerged onto Nineteenth Street and walked toward First Avenue. Laurie put up her collar. There was a breeze off the East River, and it was only in the twenties. "What makes you think the mobsters are behind this?" Jack asked. "You don't have to be a rocket scientist to assume as much," Laurie said. She put up her hand as a cab approached, but it zoomed past without slowing. "Franconi was going to testify as part of a plea bargain. The higher-ups of the Vaccarro organization got angry or scared or both. It's an old story." "So they killed him," Jack said. "Why take the body?" Laurie shrugged. "I'm not going to pretend I can put my mind into a mobster's," she said. "I don't know why they wanted the body. Maybe to deny him a proper burial. Maybe they're afraid an autopsy would provide a clue to the killer's identity. Hell, I don't know. But ultimately it doesn't matter why." "I have a sense the 'why' might be important," Jack said. "I think by getting involved you'll be skating on thin ice."
"Maybe so," Laurie said. She shrugged again. "I get caught up in things like this. I suppose part of the problem is that at the moment my main focus in life is my job." "Here comes a free cab," Jack said, deliberately avoiding having to respond to Laurie's last comment. He sensed the implications and was reluctant to get drawn into a more personal discussion. It was a short cab ride down to the corner of First Avenue and Thirtieth Street. Laurie climbed out and was surprised when Jack did the same.
"You don't have to come," Laurie said.
"I know," Jack said. "But I'm coming anyway. In case you haven't guessed, you have me concerned." Jack leaned back inside the cab and paid the driver. Laurie was still insisting that Jack's presence was not needed as they walked between the Health and Hospital's mortuary vans. They entered the morgue through the Thirtieth Street entrance. "I thought you
told me your bed was beckoning?"
"It can wait," Jack said. "After Lou's story about your getting carted out of here nailed in a coffin, I think I should tag along."
"That was a totally different situation," Laurie said. "Oh, yeah?" Jack questioned. "It involved mobsters just like now." Laurie was about to protest further when Jack's comment struck a chord. She had to admit there were parallels.
The first person they came to was the night security man sitting in his cubbyhole office. Carl Novak was an elderly, affable, gray-haired man who appeared to have shrunk inside his uniform that was at least two sizes too big. He was playing solitaire but looked up when Laurie and Jack passed by his window and stopped in his open doorway.
"Can I help you?" Carl asked. Then he recognized Laurie and apologized for not having done so sooner. Laurie asked him if he'd been informed of Franconi's body's disappearance. "By all means," Carl said. "I got called at home by Robert Harper, head of security. He was up in arms about it and asked me all sorts of questions." It didn't take Laurie long to learn that Carl had little light to shed on the mystery. He insisted that nothing out of the ordinary happened. Bodies had come in and bodies had gone out, just the way they did every night of the year. He admitted having left his post twice during his shift to visit the men's room. He emphasized that on both occasions, he'd only been gone for a few minutes and that each time he'd informed the night mortuary tech, Mike Passano. "What about meals?" Laurie asked.
Carl pulled open a file drawer of his metal desk and lifted out an insulated lunch box. "I eat right here." Laurie thanked him and moved on. Jack followed. "The place certainly looks different at night," Jack commented as they passed the wide hall that led down to the refrigerators and the autopsy room. "It's a bit sinister without the usual daytime hubbub," Laurie admitted. They looked into the mortuary office and found Mike Passano busy with some receiving forms. A body had recently been brought in that had been fished out of the ocean by the Coast Guard. He looked up when he sensed company.
Mike was in this early thirties, spoke with a strong Long Island accent, and looked decidedly Southern Italian. He was slight of build with sharply defined facial features. He had dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes. Neither Laurie nor Jack had worked with him although they had met him on multiple occasions. "Did you docs come in to see the floater?" Mike asked.
"It can wait," Jack said. "After Lou's story about your getting carted out of here nailed in a coffin, I think I should tag along."
"That was a totally different situation," Laurie said. "Oh, yeah?" Jack questioned. "It involved mobsters just like now." Laurie was about to protest further when Jack's comment struck a chord. She had to admit there were parallels.
The first person they came to was the night security man sitting in his cubbyhole office. Carl Novak was an elderly, affable, gray-haired man who appeared to have shrunk inside his uniform that was at least two sizes too big. He was playing solitaire but looked up when Laurie and Jack passed by his window and stopped in his open doorway.
"Can I help you?" Carl asked. Then he recognized Laurie and apologized for not having done so sooner. Laurie asked him if he'd been informed of Franconi's body's disappearance. "By all means," Carl said. "I got called at home by Robert Harper, head of security. He was up in arms about it and asked me all sorts of questions." It didn't take Laurie long to learn that Carl had little light to shed on the mystery. He insisted that nothing out of the ordinary happened. Bodies had come in and bodies had gone out, just the way they did every night of the year. He admitted having left his post twice during his shift to visit the men's room. He emphasized that on both occasions, he'd only been gone for a few minutes and that each time he'd informed the night mortuary tech, Mike Passano. "What about meals?" Laurie asked.
Carl pulled open a file drawer of his metal desk and lifted out an insulated lunch box. "I eat right here." Laurie thanked him and moved on. Jack followed. "The place certainly looks different at night," Jack commented as they passed the wide hall that led down to the refrigerators and the autopsy room. "It's a bit sinister without the usual daytime hubbub," Laurie admitted. They looked into the mortuary office and found Mike Passano busy with some receiving forms. A body had recently been brought in that had been fished out of the ocean by the Coast Guard. He looked up when he sensed company.
Mike was in this early thirties, spoke with a strong Long Island accent, and looked decidedly Southern Italian. He was slight of build with sharply defined facial features. He had dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes. Neither Laurie nor Jack had worked with him although they had met him on multiple occasions. "Did you docs come in to see the floater?" Mike asked.
"No," Jack said. "Is there a problem?"
"No problem," Mike said. "It's just in bad shape." "We've come to talk about last night," Laurie said. "What about it?" Mike asked.
Laurie posed the same questions she'd put to Carl. To her surprise, Mike quickly became irritated. She was about to say as much when Jack tugged on her arm and motioned for her to retreat to the hall. "Ease off," Jack recommended when they were beyond earshot. "Ease off from what?" Laurie asked. "I'm not being confrontational." "I agree," Jack said. "I know I'm the last person to be an expert in office politics or interpersonal relations, but Mike sounds defensive to me. If you want to get any information out of him, I think you have to take that into consideration and tread lightly." Laurie thought for a minute then nodded. "Maybe you're right." They returned to the mortuary office, but before Laurie could say anything, Mike said: "In case you didn't know, Dr. Washington telephoned this morning and woke me up about all this. He read me the riot act. But I did my normal job last night, and I certainly didn't have anything to do with that body disappearing."
"I'm sorry if I implied that you did," Laurie said. "All I'm saying is that I believe the body disappeared during your shift. That's not saying you are responsible in any way." "It sort'a sounds that way," Mike said. "I mean, I'm the only one here besides security and the janitors." "Did anything happen out of the ordinary?" Laurie asked. Mike shook his head. "It was a quiet night. We had two bodies come in and two go out." "What about the bodies that arrived?" Laurie asked. "Did they come in with our people?" "Yup, with our vans," Mike said. "Jeff Cooper and Peter Molina. Both bodies were from local hospitals."
"What about the two bodies that went out?" Laurie asked. "What about them?"
"Well, who was it that came to pick them up?" Mike grabbed the mortuary logbook from the corner of his desk and cracked it open. His index finger traced down the column then stopped. "Spoletto Funeral Home in Ozone Park and Dickson Funeral Home in Summit, New Jersey."
"What were the names of the deceased?" Laurie asked.
"No problem," Mike said. "It's just in bad shape." "We've come to talk about last night," Laurie said. "What about it?" Mike asked.
Laurie posed the same questions she'd put to Carl. To her surprise, Mike quickly became irritated. She was about to say as much when Jack tugged on her arm and motioned for her to retreat to the hall. "Ease off," Jack recommended when they were beyond earshot. "Ease off from what?" Laurie asked. "I'm not being confrontational." "I agree," Jack said. "I know I'm the last person to be an expert in office politics or interpersonal relations, but Mike sounds defensive to me. If you want to get any information out of him, I think you have to take that into consideration and tread lightly." Laurie thought for a minute then nodded. "Maybe you're right." They returned to the mortuary office, but before Laurie could say anything, Mike said: "In case you didn't know, Dr. Washington telephoned this morning and woke me up about all this. He read me the riot act. But I did my normal job last night, and I certainly didn't have anything to do with that body disappearing."
"I'm sorry if I implied that you did," Laurie said. "All I'm saying is that I believe the body disappeared during your shift. That's not saying you are responsible in any way." "It sort'a sounds that way," Mike said. "I mean, I'm the only one here besides security and the janitors." "Did anything happen out of the ordinary?" Laurie asked. Mike shook his head. "It was a quiet night. We had two bodies come in and two go out." "What about the bodies that arrived?" Laurie asked. "Did they come in with our people?" "Yup, with our vans," Mike said. "Jeff Cooper and Peter Molina. Both bodies were from local hospitals."
"What about the two bodies that went out?" Laurie asked. "What about them?"
"Well, who was it that came to pick them up?" Mike grabbed the mortuary logbook from the corner of his desk and cracked it open. His index finger traced down the column then stopped. "Spoletto Funeral Home in Ozone Park and Dickson Funeral Home in Summit, New Jersey."
"What were the names of the deceased?" Laurie asked.
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