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 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 his 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.
Mike consulted the book. “Frank Gleason and Dorothy Kline. Their accession numbers are 100385 and 101455. Anything else?”
“Were you expecting these particular funeral homes to come?” Laurie asked.
“Yeah, of course,” Mike said. “They’d called beforehand just like always.”
“So you had everything ready for them?”
“Sure,” Mike said. “I had the paperwork all done. They just had to sign off.”
“And the bodies?” Laurie asked.
“They were in the walk-in cooler as usual,” Mike said. “Right in the front on gurneys.”
Laurie looked at Jack. “Can you think of anything else to ask?”
Jack shrugged. “I think you’ve pretty well covered the bases except when Mike was off the floor.”
“Good point!” Laurie said. Turning back to Mike she said: “Carl told us that when he left for the men’s room twice last night, he contacted you. Do you contact Carl whenever you need to leave your post?”
“Always,” Mike said. “We’re often the only ones down here. We have to have someone guarding the door.”
“Were you away from the office very long last night?” Laurie asked.
“Nope,” Mike said. “No more than usual. Couple of times to the head and a half hour for lunch up on the second floor. I’m telling you, it was a normal night.”
“What about the janitors?” Laurie asked. “Were they around?”
“Not during my shift,” Mike said. “Generally they clean down here evenings. The night shift is upstairs unless there is something out of the ordinary going on.”
Laurie tried to think of additional questions but couldn’t. “Thanks, Mike,” she said.
“No problem,” Mike said.
Laurie started for the door but stopped. Turning around she asked: “By any chance did you happen to see Franconi’s body?”
Mike hesitated a second before admitting that he had.
“What was the circumstance?” Laurie asked.
“When I get to work Marvin, the evening tech, usually briefs me about what’s going on. He was kind of psyched about the Franconi situation because of all the police and the way the family carried on. Anyway, he showed me the body.”
“When you saw it, was it in compartment one eleven?”
“Yup.”
“Tell me, Mike,” Laurie said. “If you had to guess, how do you think the body disappeared?”
“I don’t have the foggiest idea,” Mike said. “Unless he walked out of here.” He laughed, then seemed embarrassed. “I don’t mean to joke around. I’m as confused as everybody else. All I know is only two bodies went out of here last night, and they were the two I checked out.”
“And you never looked at Franconi again after Marvin showed him to you?”
“Of course not,” Mike said. “Why would I?”
“No reason,” Laurie said. “Do you happen to know where the van drivers are?”
“Upstairs in the lunchroom,” Mike said. “That’s where they always are.”
Laurie and Jack took the elevator. As they were riding up, Laurie noticed Jack’s eyelids were drooping.
“You look tired,” Laurie commented.
“No surprise. I am,” Jack said.
“Why don’t you go home?” Laurie said.
“I’ve stuck it out this far,” Jack said. “I think I’ll see it to the bitter end.”
The bright fluorescent lighting of the lunchroom made both Laurie and Jack squint. They found Jeff and Pete at a table next to the vending machines, poring over newspapers while snacking on potato chips. They were dressed in rumpled blue coveralls with Health and Hospital Corporation patches on their upper arms. Both had ponytails.
Laurie introduced herself, explained about her interest in the missing body, and asked if there was anything unique about the previous night, particularly about the two bodies they’d brought in.
Jeff and Pete exchanged a look, then Pete responded.
“Mine was a mess,” Pete said.
“I don’t mean the bodies themselves,” Laurie said. “I’m wondering if there was anything unusual about the process. Did you see anyone in the morgue you didn’t recognize? Did anything out of the ordinary happen?”
Pete glanced again at Jeff then shook his head. “Nope. It was just like usual.”
“Do you remember what compartment you put your body into?” Laurie asked.
Pete scratched the top of his head. “Not really,” he said.
“Was it near to one eleven?” Laurie asked.
Pete shook his head. “No, it was around the other side. Something like fifty-five. I don’t remember exactly. But it’s written downstairs.”
Laurie turned to Jeff.
“My body went into twenty-eight,” Jeff said. “I remembered because that’s how old I am.”
“Did either of you see Franconi’s body?” Laurie asked.
The two drivers again exchanged glances. Jeff spoke: “Yeah, we did.”
“What time?”
“Around now,” Jeff said.
“What was the circumstance?” Laurie said. “You guys don’t normally see bodies that you don’t transport.”
“After Mike told us about it, we wanted to look because of all the excitement. But we didn’t touch anything.”
“It was only for a second,” Pete added. “We just opened the door and looked in.”
“Were you with Mike?” Laurie asked.
“No,” Pete said. “He just told us which compartment.”
“Has Dr. Washington talked to you about last night?” Laurie asked.
“Yeah, and Mr. Harper, too,” Jeff said.
“Did you tell Dr. Washington about looking at the body?” Laurie asked.
“No,” Jeff said.
“Why not?” Laurie asked.
“He didn’t ask,” Jeff said. “I guess we know we’re really not supposed to do it. I mean we don’t usually. But, as I said, with all the commotion, we were curious.”
“Maybe you should tell Dr. Washington,” Laurie suggested. “Just so he has all the facts.”
Laurie turned around and hea
ded back to the elevator. Jack dutifully followed.
“What do you think?” Laurie asked.
“It’s getting harder and harder for me to think the closer it gets to midnight,” Jack said. “But I wouldn’t make anything of those two peeking at the body.”
“But Mike didn’t mention it,” Laurie said.
“True,” Jack said. “But they all know they were bending the rules. It’s human nature in such a situation not to be completely forthcoming.”
“Maybe so,” Laurie said with a sigh.
“Where to now?” Jack asked as they boarded the elevator.
“I’m running out of ideas,” Laurie said.
“Thank God,” Jack said.
“Don’t you think I should ask Mike why he didn’t tell us about the van drivers looking at Franconi?” Laurie asked.
“You could, but I think you’re just spinning your wheels,” Jack said. “Truly, I can’t imagine it was anything but harmless curiosity.”
“Then let’s call it a night,” Laurie said. “Bed is sounding good to me, too.”
CHAPTER 5
March 5, 1997
10:15 A.M.
Cogo, Equatorial Guinea
Kevin replaced the tissue culture flasks in the incubator and closed the door. He’d been working since before dawn. His current quest was to find a transponase to handle a minor histocompatibility gene on the Y chromosome. It had been eluding him for over a month despite his use of the technique that had resulted in his finding and isolating the transponases associated with the short arm of chromosome 6.
Kevin’s usual schedule was to arrive at the lab around eight-thirty, but that morning he’d awakened at four A.M. and had not been able to fall back to sleep. After tossing and turning for three-quarters of an hour, he’d decided he might as well use the time for good purpose. He’d arrived at his lab at five A.M. while it was still pitch-dark.
What was troubling Kevin’s sleep was his conscience. The nagging notion that he’d made a Promethean mistake resurfaced with a vengeance. Although Dr. Lyons’s mention of building his own lab had assuaged him at the time, it didn’t last. Lab of his dreams or no, he couldn’t deny the horror he feared was evolving on Isla Francesca.