Robin Cook - Blindsight

“Sure!” Lou said sarcastically. He was certain Jordan was lying, yet at the same time Lou was not sure of his objectivity in judging Jordan. As Lou had recently admitted to Laurie, he was jealous of Jordan. He was jealous of the man’s tall good looks, of his Ivy League education, his silver-spooned past, his money, and his relationship with Laurie.

“It didn’t occur to me until I got back to the office,” Jordan said. “After I looked at their charts.”

“But even once you did realize this connecting factor, you failed to let me know. We’ll let that go for the moment. My question now is: How do you explain it?”

“I can’t,” Jordan said. “As far as I can tell, it’s extraordinary coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“You don’t have the slightest idea why these murders were committed?”

“None,” Jordan said. “And I certainly hope and pray there are no more. The last thing I want to happen is see my surgical population decreasing in any form or fashion, particularly in such a savage way.”

Lou nodded. Knowing what he did about Jordan, he believed this part.

“What about Cerino?” Lou asked after a pause.

“What about him?”

“He’s still waiting for another operation,” Lou said. “Is there any way this murder streak could be related to Cerino? Do you think that he’s at risk?”

“I suppose anything is possible,” Jordan said. “But I’ve been treating Paul Cerino for months and nothing has happened to him. I can’t imagine he’s involved or specifically at risk.”

“If you have any ideas, get back to me,” Lou said.

“Absolutely, Lieutenant,” Jordan said.

Lou stepped out of the way and Jordan pushed through the swinging doors and disappeared from view.

Laurie decided that even if nothing panned out, if she failed to turn up any useful information, at least she was keeping busy. And keeping busy meant she couldn’t dwell on her situation: she was unemployed in a city that was hardly cheap to live in and she might even be out of forensics. She could hardly expect a recommendation from Bingham. But she wouldn’t think about that just then. Instead she decided to follow through and get more information for her series. There were three more overdoses to be investigated. How were the bodies discovered and were the deceased seen going into their apartments that fateful evening in the company of two men?

Inside an hour, Laurie hit pay dirt at Kendall Fletcher’s apartment building, and it all sounded familiar. Fletcher had gone out to jog but had returned very soon after-with two men. The doorman never saw the two men leave the apartment. Several hours after Fletcher had returned, an unnamed tenant called to complain about noise in 25G. The tenant feared that someone inside 25G might be hurt. The superintendent responded to the call; that’s when Fletcher’s body was discovered.

Laurie had less luck at Stephanie Haberlin’s. The woman lived in a converted brownstone with no doorman. Laurie decided to leave that case for the time being and head on to the third and final location.

Yvonne Andre lived in a building similar to Kendall Fletcher’s. Laurie made use of her medical examiner’s badge just as she had at Fletcher’s. The doorman, who introduced himself as Timothy, was more than happy to help. Just as with Kendall Fletcher, Ms. Andre had entered her building along with two men. Timothy couldn’t describe the men, but he distinctly remembered their coming.

When Laurie asked who’d found the body, Timothy replied that Jose, the super, had. Laurie asked if she could speak with him. Timothy said of course. He called out to a lean man in a tan uniform who was at that moment repairing a piece of furniture in the foyer. Jose immediately joined them and introductions were made.

“So how was it that you found the body?” Laurie asked.

“The night doorman called me asking me to check the Andre apartment.”

“Let me guess,” Laurie said. “The night doorman had been called by a tenant complaining that strange noises were coming from the Andre apartment.”

Jose and Timothy gazed at Laurie with surprise and respect.

“Ah,” Jose said with a smile. “You’ve been talking with the police.”

“Where in the apartment did you find the body?” Laurie asked.

“In the living room,” Jose said.

“What did the apartment look like?” Laurie asked. “Was anything broken? Did it look as if there’d been a struggle?”

“I didn’t really look around,” Jose said. “Not after I spotted Ms. Andre. The police were here, of course, but no one has touched anything. You want to see it?”

“I’d love to,” Laurie answered.

They went directly to Yvonne’s apartment on the fourth floor. Jose opened the door with his passkey and stepped aside.

Laurie went in first. She hadn’t taken more than five steps in the door when she nearly collided with an elegantly dressed, middle-aged woman who had responded to the sound of the key in the lock. The woman was quite stunning although she looked as if she’d been crying. She clutched a tissue in her hand.

“Excuse me,” Laurie said with embarrassment. She was appalled that the apartment was occupied.

The woman started to say something when she recognized Jose.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Andre,” Jose said. “I didn’t know anyone was here. This is Dr. Montgomery from the medical examiner’s office.”

“Who is it, dear?” A tall, gray-haired man appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

“It’s the superintendent,” Mrs. Andre managed. “And this is Dr. Montgomery from the medical examiner’s office.”

“From the medical examiner’s office here in Manhattan?” Mr. Andre questioned.

“That’s right,” Laurie said. “I’m terribly sorry for this intrusion. Jose suggested I come up here. I had no idea you’d be here.”

“Nor did I,” Jose added quickly.

“It’s all right,” Mrs. Andre said. She raised the tissue to dab at the corners of her eyes as she wistfully looked around the living room. “We were just going through some of Yvonne’s things.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mr. Andre said. He abruptly turned and disappeared back toward the kitchen.

“I can return at a later time,” Laurie said, taking a step back toward the door. “I’m terribly sorry about your loss.”

“Oh, don’t go,” Mrs. Andre said, holding out a hand toward Laurie. “Please. Come in. Sit down. It’s better for me to talk about it.”

Laurie glanced at Jose. She wasn’t sure what she should do.

“I’ll leave you people,” Jose said. “If you need anything, please call.”

Laurie wanted to leave. The last thing she should be doing was consoling the loved ones of the deceased. Look where it had gotten her when she’d tried to comfort Sara Wetherbee, Duncan Andrews’ girlfriend. But Laurie didn’t feel she could simply walk out on the obviously bereaved mother now that she’d burst in on her. With some misgivings Laurie allowed herself to be guided toward the sitting area. Mrs. Andre sat on a love seat. Laurie took a side chair.

“You can’t imagine what a shock this has been to us,” Mrs. Andre said. “Yvonne was such a good, generous daughter, selfless to a fault. She was always devoting herself to one charitable cause or another.”

Laurie nodded sympathetically.

“Greenpeace, Amnesty International, NARAL. You name a good liberal cause, chances were she was active in it.”

Laurie knew she didn’t need to say much. It was enough just to listen.

“She had two new ones,” Mrs. Andre said with an aggrieved laugh. “At least they were new to us: animal rights and organ donation. It’s such an irony that she died of a heart attack. I think she’d really hoped some of her organs would be used to a good purpose someday. Oh, not anytime soon, mind you, but she very much did not want to be buried. She was quite adamant about it; she thought it was a terrible waste of resources and space.”