Robin Cook - Blindsight

With a shaky hand, Laurie opened the last folder: Julia Myerholtz, aged twenty-nine, art historian!

Laurie breathed out. She hadn’t been aware that she’d been holding her breath. Her intuition had been correct: there’d been two more cocaine overdose cases with similar demographics as the others. She felt a mixture of emotions including anger about not having been called as she’d requested and confirmation that her fears had come to pass. At the same time she felt sorry there had been two more potentially preventable deaths.

Laurie went straight to the forensic investigator’s office and found Bart Arnold. She knocked loudly on his door and walked in before he had a chance to invite her.

“Why wasn’t I called? I spoke to you specifically about this. I told you I wanted to be called on cocaine overdoses that fall within certain demographic parameters. Last night there were two. I wasn’t called. Why?”

“I was told you were not to be called,” Bart said.

“Why not?” Laurie questioned.

“I wasn’t given a reason,” Bart said. “But I passed the word on to the tour doctors when they came on duty.”

“Who told you this?” Laurie asked.

“Dr. Washington,” Bart said. “I’m sorry, Laurie. I would have told you myself, but you had already gone for the day.”

Laurie abruptly turned and walked out of Bart’s office. She was more angry than hurt. Her worst fears had been confirmed: she hadn’t been overlooked accidentally, there was a deliberate effort going on to keep her out of the way. Just outside the police liaison office she saw Lou Soldano.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Lou asked.

Laurie stared at him. Didn’t the guy ever get any sleep? Once again he looked as if he’d been up all night. He hadn’t shaved and his eyes were red-rimmed. His close-cropped hair was matted down on his forehead.

“I’m quite busy, Lieutenant,” Laurie said.

“Just a moment of your time,” Lou repeated. “Please.”

“All right,” Laurie relented. “What is it?”

“I had a little time to think last night,” Lou said. “I wanted to apologize for being such a boob yesterday afternoon. I came on a little stronger than I should have. So, I’m sorry.”

The last thing she’d expected from Lou was an apology. Now that it was being offered, she was gratified to hear it.

“As kind of an explanation,” Lou continued, “I’m under a lot of pressure from the commissioner about these gangland-style murders. He thinks that since I’d spent time on organized crime, I should be the one to solve them. Unfortunately he’s not a patient man.”

“I guess we’re both pretty stressed,” Laurie said. “But your apology is accepted.”

“Thank you,” Lou said. “At least that’s one hurdle out of the way.”

“So what brings you here this morning?”

“You haven’t heard about the homicides?”

“What homicides?” Laurie asked. “We get homicides every day.”

“Not like these,” Lou said. “More gangland stuff. Professional hits. Two couples here in Manhattan.”

“Floating in the river?” Laurie asked.

“Nope,” Lou said. “Shot in their homes. Both of the couples were well-to-do, one in particular. And the wealthier one is also politically connected.”

“Uh-oh,” Laurie said. “More pressure.”

“You’d better believe it,” Lou said. “The mayor is livid. He’s already chewed out the commissioner, and guess who the commissioner has decided to target: yours truly.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Laurie asked.

“I wish I could tell you I did,” Lou said. “Something big time is going on, but for the life of me I don’t have a clue as to what it is. The night before last there were three similar hits in Queens. Now these two in Manhattan. And there doesn’t seem to be any organized-crime connection. Certainly not with the two last night. But the m.o. of the killers is definitely gangland style.”

“So you’re here for the autopsies?” Laurie asked.

“Yeah,” Lou said. “Maybe I can get a job here after I’m fired from the police department. I’m spending as much time here as in my office.”

“Who’s doing the cases?” Laurie asked.

“Dr. Southgate and Dr. Besserman,” Lou said. “How are they, all right?”

“They’re excellent. Both are very experienced.”

“I’d kinda hoped you’d be doing them,” Lou said. “I was beginning to think we worked well together.”

“Well, you’re in good hands with Southgate and Besserman,” she assured him.

“I’ll let you know what we find,” Lou said. He fumbled with his hat.

“Please do,” Laurie answered. All of a sudden she had that same feeling that she’d gotten on previous days. Lou seemed to become painfully self-conscious, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

“Well… I’m glad I ran into you,” Lou said, avoiding Laurie’s eyes. “Well… I’ll see you. ’Bye.” Lou turned and started back toward the police liaison office.

For a second Laurie watched Lou’s lumbering gait and again was impressed by a sense of the man’s loneliness. She wondered if he had intended asking her out once again.

For a minute after Lou disappeared from view, Laurie forgot where she’d been headed. But her anger returned the minute she remembered Calvin’s attempt to get her off her overdose series. With a renewed sense of purpose, she marched to Calvin’s office and knocked on the open door. She was inside facing him before he had a chance to say a word.

She found Calvin seated behind a mountain of paperwork. He looked up over the tops of his wire-rimmed reading glasses that were dwarfed by his broad face. He didn’t seem happy to see her. “What is it, Montgomery?”

“There were two more overdoses last night similar to the kind that I am interested in,” Laurie began.

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know,” Calvin said.

“I know this is scheduled as a paper day for me, but I would appreciate it if you would let me do the autopsies. Something tells me these cases are related. By my doing them all, maybe I’ll make some connections.”

“We went over this on the phone,” Calvin said. “I told you I think you are getting carried away. You’ve become less than objective.”

“Please, Dr. Washington,” Laurie pleaded. She hated to beg.

“No! Goddamn it!” Calvin exploded. He slammed an open palm on his desk, sending some of his papers flying. He stood up. “George Fontworth is doing the overdoses, and I want you to stick to your own work. You’re behind in signing out some of your cases as it is. I don’t think I need to tell you. Now, I don’t need this kind of aggravation. Not with the pressure this office is under.”

Laurie nodded, then walked out of the office. If she weren’t so enraged, she would probably have been in tears. Leaving Calvin’s office, she went directly to Bingham’s.

This time Laurie waited to be asked in. Bingham was on the phone, but he waved her in.

Laurie got the impression Bingham was speaking to someone at city hall, since his side of the conversation reminded her of speaking with her mother. Bingham was saying “yes,” “certainly,” and “of course” over and over.

When he finally hung up and peered at Laurie she could tell he was already exasperated. It was not an opportune time for her visit. But since she was already there, and there was no one else to whom she could appeal, Laurie pressed on.

“I’m being deliberately prevented from further involvement with these upscale overdose cases,” she said. She tried to sound firm but her voice was filled with emotion. “Dr. Washington will not let me perform the relevant autopsies that have come in today. He made sure I wasn’t called to any of the scenes last night. I don’t think barring me from these cases is in the best interests of the department.”