Requiem for Moses (17 page)

An hour or so later, the center was called by a funeral home. Morgue employee Herman Thomas, who was removing the body bag, dialed the emergency-room code as soon as he heard the breathing.

Price folded the clipping carefully and returned it to her purse. “Isn’t that a coincidence?” she said. “The details: ‘cold as ice … stiff as a board … rigid … unconscious … without pulse … and not breathing.’

“Not breathing! Well, not when the coroner as well as the apartment manager checked her. But she was breathing when the morgue employee moved her body bag.

“Was Mildred Clarke’s condition a return from the dead, or recovery from a coma? Was she ‘not breathing’—as in ‘dead’—when the coroner checked her? Or was she breathing shallow breaths many seconds apart? Is Mildred Clarke a miracle woman?

“Mrs. Green found her husband in much the same state as the apartment manager found Mildred. He wasn’t breathing, or his breathing went undetected.

“And, gentlemen, I particularly call your attention to the refrigerator in the morgue. Mildred survived that, too, along with all the other things they did to her. Wasn’t Dr. Green headed for a mortuary refrigerator?” she concluded.

“Very good and very helpful, Dr. Price,” said Koznicki.

“Then,” Koesler said, “rigor mortis has no relevance in either the case of Mildred Clarke or Dr. Green.”

“Except,” Price said, “if there is no sign of rigor, it does not necessarily mean that the person is not dead. There may be reasons, explanations, for the lack of rigor—to a point. If, on the other hand, rigor is clearly there, it is one definite sign of death.”

“So,” Koesler said, “is Mildred Clarke a miracle woman? It doesn’t seem as if anyone thinks so. The news of her coming out of a body bag after being pronounced dead is buried in one column of a daily paper.

“Dr. Green, on the other hand, is getting major media coverage not only locally, but also nationally. Is Dr. Green a miracle man? Certainly the public is leaning toward the miraculous.

“Before she was enclosed in a body bag, nobody had heard of Mildred Clarke. After she emerged from the body bag, a few people heard what happened to her. Now she’s lost again from the public’s brief attention span.

“Dr. Green is a celebrity, at least at some level. Before last night, lots of people knew him or knew of him.

“Mrs. Clarke was a nobody who made her extraordinary move in the privacy of a morgue with very few witnesses around. Moses Green was a Somebody who emerged from a casket in a Catholic church in view of an audience of a couple of hundred people.

“The assumption on the public’s part is, clearly, that Dr. Green had a miracle happen to him. And now the public will want a detailed account of what’s it like to be dead … and then to come back from the dead.”

Koznicki looked at his watch. “It is getting late in the day. We must wrap this up. Dr. Price, would you please sum up?”

“Certainly.” She ran a hand through her hair, which snapped back to its former shape like a mattress spring. “Of course”—she nodded in Koesler’s direction—“this could be a miracle.”

“I hasten to remind you,” Koesler interrupted, “that I am not the champion of the ‘miracle’ school of thought. The Catholic Church is going to play a doubting Thomas role.”

“Unfair of me, I confess,” Price said, smiling. “It’s just that with that uniform you wear, you appear to be more at home with miracles than the rest of us. I promise I won’t do that again.”

“You’re forgiven. And, on my part, I promise not to interrupt again.”

“Okay,” Price proceeded. “I’m not looking at anyone in particular when I again state we could be dealing with a miracle. If so, that’s the end of the involvement of science or the police. That, truly, falls into the lap of Religion. And I wish everyone who gets drawn into this lots of good luck.

“But, if it’s not a miracle, then what?

“Then,” she answered her own question, “I think the safest probability is a coma. Green’s condition was too close to either death or a coma to be faked. Some few people have mastered respiratory behavior to the extent that they can control breathing to a remarkable degree. Such a person might be able to breathe rarely and irregularly.

“But we’re talking about cold, dry skin and pinpoint pupils and dry mouth and all the rest of that. I can see no possible way that anyone could simulate all those symptoms. So, I would argue for a coma.

“Now, having said that, what caused the coma?

“One of the things we have here is a heart problem. So, the coma may have resulted from a heart attack, a stroke.

“Or, the coma may have been induced by an overdose of one drug or another.

“Dr. Green was in severe pain from a back condition that appears to be degenerative. His doctor is unable to diagnose the exact cause. Dr. Green doesn’t respond to any of the administered tests. I’m quite sure that Dr. Fox subjected his patient to every known test. After all, both men are physicians; Dr. Green would know immediately if Dr. Fox were to fudge on any avenue of testing.

“But, since no cause was found, there was little else to be done but try to control the pain. And with pain like this, pain that would force Green to say that he didn’t want to live, they probably went for morphine.

“If Green was on morphine, it shouldn’t be too difficult to determine that even without his cooperation. His doctor, for one source. Or the pharmacy.

“So, then, if Green was on morphine—or any drug that could be lethal in an overdose—the next question would be, why did it happen? An error, or a deliberate act? Both entirely possible.

“The fact that the overdose—and remember, we are in a hypothesis here—the fact that the overdose was not fatal, argues, I think, that it was accidental. But, while I think that the accident theory is the most likely, a strong case could be made that it was intentional.

“The next logical fact we must deal with is that while there’s an overdose, it isn’t fatal. Why not? Was that accidental or intentional?

“Think of the possibilities. Think of someone who, for whatever reason, wanted Dr. Green dead.”

Suddenly, Koesler saw in his mind’s eye a veritable montage of those people he had met last night just before the service was supposed to begin. He remembered that after each of them told of his or her relationship with Dr. Green, Koesler had reflected that it was fortunate the doctor had died of natural causes; otherwise each and every one of them would make a fine candidate as a murder suspect. Now … the police might be thinking of this case in terms of, at least, attempted murder.

“Now,” Price continued, “this ‘someone’ who theoretically wants Green dead is able to get close enough so that he or she has access to the drugs Green is taking. And, indeed, this person does arrange to administer an overdose. If, say the drug were morphine, how difficult could it be to make that overdose fatal?

“So, then, why wasn’t the overdose fatal?

“Instead, we have a body that is pronounced dead and is being prepared for burial. But the body is alive. Why?

“By the time his sister comes upon the scene, Green must have been in the most shallow stage of his coma. In other words, he was on the brink of regaining consciousness. From what I’ve been told and from what I’ve read in the
News
, once the sister arrived, Green’s body got jostled around quite a bit.

“What Green needed for, perhaps, a premature awakening, was a series of stimulants. That could come in the form of hearing prayers or hearing the voices of those standing nearby.

“There was quite a racket when the sister entered the church. And she kept the pandemonium going, or so I’m told.”

For just a moment, the image of Father Reichert disappearing from view knocked over by a histrionic Aunt Sophie crossed Koesler’s mind. He smiled. No one noticed.

“All these things,” Price went on, “could easily cause an anxiety reaction in someone just emerging from a coma. Then, to cap the climax, Green was dumped from the casket and pitched to the floor.

“If Green were dead and there were no miracle, this would have been no more than an embarrassment, especially to the family. Some of the bystanders undoubtedly would have packed the body back into the coffin and apologies would have been offered all around. It might even have quieted the sister.

“So, gentlemen, that’s pretty much how I see it. As I said, I can’t speak to the possibility of a miracle. I’ve seen my share of so-called miracles, just as almost every doctor has. Patients who beat all the odds, who respond to prayers said on their behalf, even when they were unaware anyone was praying for them. Science generally crumbles in the face of these … mysteries.

“But we’re on an entirely different plane when it comes to this incident with Dr. Green.

“Christians, generally, believe that Jesus Christ rose from the dead. And, prior to that, that He raised Lazarus, His friend, from the dead. But that, for serious intents, is about it.

“Science can go after this thing if we’re looking for tangible explanations. But if Green was really dead, then we have Jesus Christ, Lazarus, and Dr. Moses Green. That’s a little much for me to swallow.

“If Dr. Green was not dead, but in a coma, we are faced with a number of nagging, complicated questions. But I think I’ve outlined the sort of questions that beg for answers here.

“There’s just one last consideration I’d like to call to your attention, gentlemen. Back to that
Newsday
clipping I read earlier. We’ve all heard of cases like that—where a person somehow passes for dead but is discovered to be alive. Maybe on arrival at a mortuary, or being prepared for embalming, or about to be opened for an autopsy.

“What caught my eye especially in the clipping was Mildred Clarke’s age. She was eighty-six, yet she was able to survive refrigeration. Without such a thing’s having actually happened, I think we would be slow to believe it. If we read it in a work of fiction, we might deny the possibility out of hand.

“So don’t be terribly surprised if Dr. Green turns out to have been in a coma. Others, more frail than he, have done it—and survived!”

“Thank you, Dr. Price, and Father Koesler, for coming,” Koznicki said. “You have been very helpful, and I hope we will be able to call on you in the future if there is a need.”

Dr. Price smiled. She was quite attractive when she smiled. “Of course, Inspector.”

“It’s I that should thank
you
,” Koesler said to Koznicki. “This session has cleared a lot of cobwebs from my brain.”

Everyone stood. Koesler and Dr. Price prepared to leave.

“One thing for sure,” Tully remarked. “Someplace in what was said here is all we can muster for CYA. The two cops who were on the scene should have been more careful. But, after all, the guy’s own doctor and the M.E.’s office both certified death. That should be enough under most conditions.

“Same thing when they notified Homicide. It was a call. Maybe we
should
have gone. But that’s mostly hindsight. I can see where our guys would take the word of the doctor and the M.E. But, dammit, I’m not comfortable with all these unanswered questions—especially when one of the major questions is whether this turns out to be attempted murder.

“We should look for the answer to that. Okay with you, Walt, if I and a couple of my squad stir the ashes a bit?”

Koznicki nodded. “But not too long. See where it leads, and keep me posted.”

Chapter Thirteen

Father Koesler, Dr. Price, and Lieutenant Tully walked together down the hall toward the elevators.

As they neared Tully’s squad room, the Lieutenant said, “Father, if you got a few minutes, I’d appreciate it if you could clue a couple of my people on a couple of questions.”

Koesler thought of the pandemonium undoubtedly continuing in and around his church. Suddenly, Police Headquarters appeared to him as a place of sanctuary from the church. He felt like Alice on the other side of the looking glass. “Okay with me, Lieutenant.”

They bade the doctor good-bye as she continued toward the exit.

Homicide Division comprised seven squads. Each had its own high-ceilinged, rectangular, large and shabby office. Koesler and Tully entered the lieutenant’s squad room. Two detectives appeared to be waiting for their boss and the priest.

“You remember,” Tully said to Koesler, “Sergeants Mangiapane and Moore.”

The introductions were pro forma. Indeed they all knew each other. Fate—it could be nothing less—had linked them all in several homicide investigations in the past.

“I’d like you to tell us,” Tully said, “how you came to have a wake for a Jewish man at your church.” It was the first time in frequent queries when the accusatory tone was not used; this was for nothing more than information.

So Koesler told them about the—then—widow’s pleading the case. He explained the family situation. That the two children had been raised Catholic. And that though they might not be very active Catholics now, they certainly had no ties with the Jewish faith.

Neither did Dr. Green, who was, by anyone’s measuring stick, Jewish in name only.

Finally, Mrs. Green, a Catholic, had discussed possible funeral arrangements with her husband when death had seemed far off.

Koesler did not mention the opposition he’d encountered along the way—from many phone callers and principally from Father Dan Reichert. Nor did he mention his own instant research through canon law to ascertain the Churchly legality of this service.

None of that, Koesler felt, was relevant or pertinent to the police investigation. None of this had come up in the recent session with Koznicki and Price, for whom the main question was whether the incident could possibly be a genuine miracle, or, more probably, a state of coma. And, further, if a coma, then was its cause deliberate or accidental?

Now that a properly instituted investigation had begun, a wider area of interest was in order. Mangiapane and Moore took notes.

“So,” Tully said, “after Mrs. Green left you, what did you do?”

“I wanted to relax and read. What I actually did was answer the phone. It rang almost continually.”

“Was that unusual?” Moore asked.