Robin Cook - Marker

"How could you think that?" Lou questioned with an expression of total disbelief. "Did you forget about the way he acted when you almost got engaged to that arms dealer, Sutherland? Jack was a basket case."

"I thought that was because both you guys didn't think Paul was the right man, which he wasn't. I didn't think it was jealousy on Jack's part."

"Mark my words: It was jealousy, loud and clear."

"Well, we'll see what we can do. I would like to talk to Jack if he'll let me."

"Let you?" Lou questioned with equal disbelief. "Hey, I'll box him around the ears if he doesn't."

"I hardly think that would help," Laurie said with another smile. She blew her nose with the tissue she had in her hand. "But be that as it may, to what do I owe this mid-morning visit, especially as decked out as you are? I know you didn't come here solely as Jack's advocate."

"That's for damn sure," Lou said. He straightened up in his seat. "I got a problem, and I need some help."

"I'm all ears."

"The reason I'm spiffed up is because I had to head out to Jersey with Michael O'Rourke, my captain. Unfortunately, his wife's sister was murdered this morning here in the city, and we went out to tell the husband. Needless to say, I'm under a ton of pressure to come up with a suspect. The body's already downstairs in the cooler. What I'm hoping is that either you or Jack could do the case. I need a break, and between the two of you, you always seem to come up with the unexpected."

"Gosh, I'm sorry, Lou. I can't do it now. If it can wait until later this afternoon, I'm sure I can help."

"What time?"

"I don't know for sure. I have an appointment over at the Manhattan General."

"Really," Lou commented with a wry smile. "That's where Michael's sister-in-law got mugged: right in the parking garage."

"That's terrible. Was she on the hospital staff?"

"Yeah, for years. She was a head nurse who worked nights. She got whacked getting into her car on her way home. It's a crying shame. Two young kids, too, ten and eleven."

"Was she robbed or raped or both?"

"Just robbed, or so it seems. Her credit cards were strewn about the car. Her husband guesses she had less than fifty bucks, and for that she loses her life."

"I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as I'm going to be unless I make some headway. What about Jack? He wasn't in his office when I went by."

"He's down in the pit, or he was when I left about a half hour ago."

Lou stood up and rolled Riva's chair over to her desk.

"Wait, Lou," Laurie said. "As long as you're here, there's something I want to mention to you."

"Oh, yeah? What?"

Laurie briefly told Lou about her series of six cases. She touched on only the highlights, but it was enough for Lou to pull Riva's chair back so he could sit down again.

"So you really think these cases are homicides?" Lou questioned when Laurie fell silent.

Laurie chuckled mostly at herself. "You know, I'm not sure," she admitted.

"But you just said you thought someone was doing this to these patients. That's homicide."

"I know," Laurie said. "The problem is, I don't know how much I believe it myself. Let me explain. Starting this morning, I've been on a self-honesty gig that's making me rethink a lot of things. I've been stressed emotionally over the last month and a half with Jack, with my mother, and other things, and I know I've been looking for a diversion. This series of mine certainly falls into that category."

Lou nodded in understanding. "So you think you might be making a mountain out of a molehill."

Laurie shrugged.

"Have you run this serial-killer idea by anybody else here at the OCME?"

"Just about everybody who will listen, including Calvin."

"And?"

"Everybody thinks I'm jumping to conclusions, because toxicology can't find anything remotely suspicious, like insulin or digitalis, which was used in documented healthcare institution serial murders in the past. Well, it's not completely accurate to say that everybody has disagreed. The doctor I've been seeing socially, whose name, by the way, is Roger and who works at the General, has supported me, but this morning I've found myself questioning his motives. But that's another issue entirely. Anyway, that's the whole story about the serial-killer idea."

"You've run it by Jack?"

"Certainly. He thinks I'm off the wall."

Lou stood back up and returned Riva's chair. "Well, keep me informed. After that corneal-cocaine conspiracy you ferreted out ten years ago, I probably would give your intuition more credit than you."

"That was twelve years ago," Laurie said.

Lou laughed. "That just shows to go you that time flies when you're having fun."

"HOW'S THAT?" JACK ASKED.

He backed up a step to survey his handiwork.

"Okay, I suppose," Lou answered.

Jack had helped Lou into a moon suit and connected his battery pack. Jack could hear the hum of the ventilation fan pulling air through the HEPA filter. "Can you feel the breeze?"

"Some breeze," Lou commented derisively. "I don't understand how you can work in this contraption every day. For me once a month is too much."

"It's not my idea of a good time," Jack admitted as he began climbing into his own suit. "When I'm on call on weekends, I sometimes surreptitiously revert to the old mask and gown, but every time Calvin finds out, I get read the riot act."

They gloved in the anteroom, then pushed into the autopsy room proper. Five of the eight tables were in operation. On the fifth lay the naked remains of Susan Chapman. Vinnie was busy arranging the specimen bottles.

"You remember Detective Soldano, don't you, Vinnie?"

"Yeah, sure. Welcome again, Lieutenant."

"Thanks, Vinnie," Lou said as he stopped some six feet from the table.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked. Lou was a relatively frequent autopsy observer, so Jack was not worried that he'd pass out and fall over backward, as some visitors did. Jack had no idea why he'd stopped, although he did notice the detective's facemask had fogged, suggesting he was overbreathing.

"I'm okay," Lou murmured. "It's a little hard seeing someone you know rudely stretched out like this, waiting to be gutted like a fish."

"You didn't say you knew her," Jack responded.

"I suppose I'm exaggerating. I didn't actually know her. I'd met her a few times at Captain O'Rourke's house."

"Well, move on in here! You're not going to see anything from left field."

Lou took a couple of tentative steps forward.

"Looks like she had a thing for Krispy Kremes," Jack said, surveying the body. "What did she weigh out as, Vinnie, old boy?"

"A hundred and eighty-three."

Jack whistled, which sounded muffled behind his plastic mask. "That's a bit much for what I'd say is about a five-foot-three-frame."

"Five-four," Vinnie said. He went back to the cabinet for syringes.

"I stand corrected," Jack said. "Okay, Lou, fill me in! You railroaded me in here so fast, I haven't read the investigator's report. Where was she found?"

"She was sitting upright in the driver's seat of her SUV like she was taking a nap. Her head was resting down on her chest. That was why she wasn't discovered right away. A few people had seen her but thought she was sleeping."

"What else can you tell me?"

"Not much. She was apparently shot in the right chest."

"And your impression was that of a robbery?"

"Certainly looked like it. Her cash was gone, her wallet and credit cards were thrown on the floor, and her clothes were intact."

"Where were her arms?"

"Poked through the steering wheel."

"Really? That's odd."

"How so?"

"Sounds to me like she was positioned."

Lou shrugged. "Could be. If so, what do you read into it?"