Robin Cook: Blindsight

“Out of the truck,” the same voice ordered. “Both of you.”

With hopes dashed, Laurie and Lou climbed back out of the van. They could not see the men for the bright light shining at them, but there seemed to be three.

“Back to the office,” the same voice commanded.

Discouraged, Laurie and Lou led the way back. Neither of them said a word. Neither wanted to think about Cerino’s fury.

The scene at the office was still chaotic. Smoke still hung heavily in the air. One of Cerino’s goons had helped his boss into the desk chair. Angelo was still sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He looked confused, and a trickle of blood was dripping down his chin from the corner of his mouth.

An additional light had been turned on, and the extent of the damage was more apparent. Laurie was surprised by the amount of charring. That old pharmacology text hadn’t been kidding: when it said ethylene was flammable it meant flammable. She and Lou were lucky not to have been injured more severely.

Laurie and Lou were given the same seats they’d occupied only minutes before. Sitting down, Laurie got a glimpse of Tony’s burned remains. She grimaced and looked away.

“My eye hurts,” Paul wailed.

Laurie closed her eyes, not wanting to think what the consequences were to be of her having ignited the ethylene.

“Someone help me,” Cerino cried.

Laurie’s eyes opened again. Something was wrong. No one was moving. The three men who’d accompanied them back to the office were ignoring Cerino. In fact they were ignoring everyone.

“What’s happening?” Laurie whispered to Lou.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Something weird is going on.”

Laurie looked up at the three men. They appeared nonchalant, picking at their nails, adjusting their ties. They hadn’t lifted a finger to help anyone. Looking in the other direction, Laurie saw the man who’d run back into the office just after she and Lou had gone out. He was sitting in a chair with his head in his hands, looking at the floor.

Laurie heard the sound of footsteps approaching. It sounded as if whoever was coming had metal taps on his heels. Out the blasted doorway, Laurie saw beams from several flashlights bobbing toward them.

Presently a rather dapper, darkly handsome man came to the blown-out door. He stopped to survey the scene. He was dressed in a dark cashmere coat over a pin-striped suit. His hair was slicked back from his forehead.

“My God, Cerino,” he said with derision. “What a mess you have made!”

Laurie looked at Cerino. Cerino didn’t answer; he didn’t even move.

“I don’t believe it,” Lou said.

Laurie’s head spun around. She looked at Lou and saw the shock registered on his face. “What’s happening?” she asked.

“I knew something weird was going on,” Lou said.

“What?” Laurie demanded.

“It’s Vinnie Dominick,” Lou said.

“Who’s Vinnie Dominick?” Laurie asked.

Vinnie shook his head, surveying what was left of Tony, then walked over to Lou. “Detective Soldano,” Vinnie said. “How convenient that you’re here.” He pulled a cellular phone from his coat pocket and handed it to the detective. “I imagine you’d like to contact your colleagues to see if they’d be so good as to come over here. I’m sure the D.A. would like to have a long talk with Paul Cerino.”

In the background Laurie was aware of the three men who had been lounging around before Vinnie Dominick arrived. They were now going around the room collecting guns.

One of them brought Lou’s over to Vinnie, having retrieved it from Angelo. Vinnie proceeded to give it back to Lou.

In disbelief Lou looked down at the phone in one hand and his gun in the other.

“Come on, Lou,” Vinnie said. “Make your call. Unfortunately I’ve got another appointment, so I can’t be around when the men in blue arrive. Besides I’m kind of a shy sort of guy and I wouldn’t feel comfortable with all the acclaim the city would want to throw my way for saving the day. Obviously you know what Mr. Cerino has been up to, so you don’t need my help there. But if you don’t, don’t hesitate to give me a call. You know how to get ahold of me, I’m sure.”

Vinnie started for the door, motioning for his men to follow him. As he passed Angelo he turned back to Lou. “You’d better call an ambulance for Angelo here,” he said. “He doesn’t look so good.” Then, looking down at Tony, he added: “The mortuary van out there will be fine for this dog turd.” With that, he left.

Lou handed Laurie his gun while he used the cellular phone to call 911. He identified himself to the 911 operator and gave the address. When he was finished, he took back his gun.

“Who is this Vinnie character?” Laurie asked.

“He’s Cerino’s main rival,” Lou said. “He must have found out what Cerino was up to and this is his way of turning him in. Very effective, I’d say, with us here as witnesses. It’s also a clever way to get rid of his competition.”

“You mean Vinnie knew Cerino was behind all these overdoses?” Laurie asked. She was stunned.

“What are you talking about? Vinnie must have figured out that Cerino was killing off patients ahead of him on Jordan Scheffield’s corneal-transplant waiting list.”

“Oh, my God!” Laurie exclaimed.

“What now?” Lou asked. After the night he’d been having, he wasn’t ready for much more.

“It’s twice as bad as I thought it was,” Laurie said. “The drug overdoses were really homicides to get eyes. Cerino was having people killed who’d signed up with the Manhattan Organ Repository for organ donation.”

Lou glanced at Cerino. “He’s more of a sociopath than I could ever have imagined. My God, he was working both sides of the problem: supply and demand.”

Cerino lifted his head from his hands. “What was I supposed to do? Wait like everybody else? I couldn’t afford to wait. In my business, every day I couldn’t see, I risked death. Is it my fault the hospitals don’t have enough corneas?”

Laurie tapped Lou on the shoulder. He turned to face her.

“There’s a strange irony to this whole affair,” Laurie said, shaking her head. “We argued with one another about whose series was more socially relevant and therefore more important, your gangland-style murders or my upscale overdoses, only to learn that they were intimately connected. They were just two sides of the same horrid affair.”

“You can’t prove a thing,” Cerino growled.

“Oh, really?” Laurie said.

January

10:15 a.m., Wednesday

Manhattan

Lou Soldano stamped the wet snow off his feet and walked into the morgue. He smiled at the man in the security office, who didn’t challenge him, and went directly to the locker room. Quickly he changed into green scrubs.

Pausing outside the main autopsy room doors, he donned a mask, then pushed through. His eyes traveled from one end to the other, inspecting the people at each table. Finally his eyes spotted a familiar figure that even the bulky gown, apron, and hood could not hide.

Walking over to the table, he looked down. Laurie was up to her elbows in a huge corpse. For the moment, she was by herself.

“I didn’t know you did whales here,” Lou said.

Laurie looked up. “Hi, Lou,” she said cheerfully. “Would you mind scratching my nose?” She twisted away from the table and closed her eyes as Lou complied. “A little lower,” she said. “Ahhh. That’s it.” She opened her eyes. “Thanks.” She went back to her work.

“Interesting case?” Lou asked.

“Very interesting,” Laurie said. “It was supposed to be a suicide, but I’m beginning to think it belongs in your department.”