Robin Cook - Blindsight

“Wasn’t it common in the sixties to shoot cocaine?” Lou asked.

“Only when it was combined with heroin in what they call speedball.” Laurie closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and let it out with a sigh.

“Are you all right?” Lou asked.

“I’m fine,” Laurie said.

“Maybe what we’re seeing is the beginning of a new fad,” Lou suggested.

“I hope not,” Laurie said. “But if it is, it’s much too deadly to be a fad for long.”

Fifteen minutes later, when Laurie plunged the scalpel into Robert’s chest, Lou winced. Despite the fact that Robert was dead and that there was no blood, Lou could not dismiss the idea that the razor-sharp knife was cutting into human tissue just like his own skin.

With no pathology apparent, Laurie finished the internal aspect of Robert Evans’ autopsy in short order. While Vinnie took the body away and brought in Bruno Marchese, Laurie and Lou went to the X-ray view box to look at Bruno’s X-rays and the one of the headless woman.

“The bullet is in just about the same location,” Laurie said, pointing to the bright dot inside the outline of Bruno’s skull.

“Looks like slightly larger caliber,” Lou said. “I could be wrong, but I don’t think it’s from the same gun.”

“I’ll be impressed if you’re right,” Laurie said.

Laurie put up Bruno’s full-body X-ray. She scanned the film with a practiced eye. When she saw no abnormalities she replaced it with the X-ray of the unfortunate woman.

“It’s a good thing we took this X-ray,” Laurie said.

“Oh?” Lou said, staring at the foggy-appearing shadows.

“You mean you don’t see the abnormality?” Laurie asked.

“No,” Lou said. “At the same time I don’t know how you doctors can see much in these things. I mean a bullet jumps out at you, but the rest just looks like a bunch of smudges.”

“I can’t believe you can’t see it,” Laurie said.

“All right, I’m blind,” Lou said. “So tell me!”

“The head and the hands!” Laurie said. “They’re gone.”

“You miserable slut!” Lou laughed in a forced whisper to keep those at a nearby table from hearing.

“Well, it’s an abnormality,” Laurie teased.

Finished with the X-rays, Laurie and Lou returned to the table just in time to help Vinnie move Bruno from the gurney onto the table. Lou started to help, but Laurie shooed him away since he was not gloved. To save time, Laurie started out with the body prone.

The entrance wound looked much like Frankie’s although the diameter of the stippling was slightly larger, suggesting the gun had been a bit farther away. After taking all the appropriate photographs and samples, she and Vinnie turned the body supine.

The first thing Laurie did then was check the eyes. They were normal.

“After what you said upstairs I was hoping the eyes might tell us something,” Lou said.

“I was hoping as well,” Laurie admitted. “I’d love to give you that break you need.”

“It still might be important,” Lou said. “If Paul Cerino had acid thrown in his eyes, and if Frank DePasquale did too, it’s certainly a link. I think it’s worth my while to take a trip out to Queens and have a chat with Paul.”

After finishing the rest of the external exam, Laurie accepted a knife from Vinnie and began the internal. Again, with no pathology, it went very quickly.

As soon as Bruno’s autopsy was completed, Vinnie rolled him away and brought in the second floater. As Laurie helped Vinnie transfer the body to the table, someone from a nearby table called out: “Where’d that body come from, Laurie? Sleepy Hollow?”

After the laughter died down, Lou leaned over to Laurie’s ear. “That was crude,” he whispered teasingly. “Want me to go over and slug the guy?”

Laurie laughed. “Black humor,” she said. “It has always played a role in pathology.”

Laurie inspected the woman’s severed limbs and neck. “The mutilation was done after death,” she said.

“That’s comforting,” Lou said. He felt his tolerance was getting lower with every case. He was having more trouble dealing with this dismembered body than with the others.

“The decapitation and the removal of the hands was done crudely,” Laurie said. “Look at the rough saw marks on the exposed bones. Of course some of this tissue appears to have been eaten by fish or crabs.”

Lou forced himself to look even though he would have preferred not to. He was feeling slightly nauseated.

“The rest of the torso looks okay,” Laurie said. “No human bite marks.”

Lou swallowed again. “Would you have expected bite marks?” he asked weakly.

“If rape was involved,” Laurie said, “then bite marks are occasionally seen. You have to think about them, otherwise you can miss them.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Lou said.

Laurie carefully inspected the chest and abdomen. The only finding of note was a right upper quadrant scar following the line of the ribs.

“This could turn out to be important for ID purposes,” Laurie said, pointing at the scar. “I’d guess it was a gallbladder operation.”

“What if the body is never identified?” Lou asked.

“It will stay in the walk-in cooler for a number of weeks,” Laurie said. “If by then we still don’t know who she is, she’ll end up in one of those pine coffins in the hall.”

Laurie opened up the rape-kit and spread out the contents. “Most of this is probably academic after the body has been in the river, but it’s still worth a try.” As she took the appropriate samples, she asked Lou if he thought the case was related to Frank’s or Bruno’s.

“I can’t be sure, but I have my suspicions. I have a number of people including police divers out looking for the heads and hands. I’ll tell you one thing: whoever dumped this woman didn’t want her to be identified. Given the East River ’s tidal and current patterns, the fact that she was found in the same general vicinity as Frankie and Bruno suggests she was dumped from the same place. So, yeah, I think there could be a connection.”

“What do you think the chances are of finding the head or the hands?” Laurie asked.

“Not great,” Lou said. “They could have sunk where the body was dumped or they might not have been dumped in the river.”

Laurie had moved on to the internal portion of the autopsy. She noted that the victim had had two surgeries in the past: a gallbladder removal, as Laurie had surmised, and a hysterectomy.

With three of her four cases out of the way before noon, Laurie felt comfortable enough with her progress to suggest that she and Lou have a quick cup of coffee. Lou happily agreed, saying he could use the fortification after the morning’s ordeal. Besides, he would have to leave to get back to his office. Having seen the autopsies of the two “floaters,” he couldn’t rationalize any more time. He jokingly told Laurie that she’d have to do the second overdose without his assistance.

After taking off her goggles, apron, and gown, Laurie took Lou up to the coffeemaker in the ID room. It was just one floor up, so they used the stairs. Laurie sat in a desk chair while Lou sat on the corner of a desk. Just as happened the previous day, Lou’s demeanor suddenly changed when he was about to leave. He became clumsy and self-conscious. He even managed to spill some of his coffee down the front of his scrub shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, dabbing at the coffee spots with a napkin. “I hope it doesn’t stain.”

“Don’t be silly, Lou,” Laurie said. “These scrub clothes have had lot worse stains than coffee.”

“I guess you’re right,” he said.

“Is something on your mind?” Laurie asked.