Робин Кук - Genesis

Closing the door silently behind her, Laurie tiptoed into Emma’s room, which was considerably darker than the master bedroom, thanks to the shades being drawn. Like Jack, Emma was fast asleep on her back, and appeared angelic in the half-light as only a four-year-old girl can look. Laurie had to restrain herself from reaching out and giving the child a hug. After the initial scare and distress evoked by a diagnosis of autism more than a year ago, Emma had been doing surprisingly well in response to thirty hours of behavioral therapy, five hours of speech therapy, and three hours of physical therapy weekly. It was a complicated, intensive schedule that had all been arranged and monitored by Laurie’s mother, Dorothy, who had turned out to be a lifesaver. After she’d initially caused difficulty between Laurie and Jack by camping out in their home after Emma’s diagnosis, Dorothy had truly stepped up to the plate to take on Emma’s situation as her life’s work, shunning all her previous philanthropic commitments. After corroborating the diagnosis with several acknowledged specialists, Dorothy had researched all the best therapists in the city, interviewed them, hired them, coordinated their schedules, and monitored them. And the effort proved worthwhile. After several months there were some positive signs. Emma’s inclination for repetitive movements appeared to lessen, and she began to lose interest in her compulsion to align her stuffed animals. Perhaps most promising, she showed increased ability to interact with JJ with even a few appropriate words. There was still a long way to go, but Laurie and Jack both were optimistic that Emma might prove to be in the group of children diagnosed with autism that do make considerable headway in achieving typical developmental milestones.

Being even quieter than she’d been when she’d entered, Laurie left Emma’s room, closing the door without the slightest sound. Emma was generally a good sleeper and usually didn’t wake up until after seven, but she could be a bear if disturbed, and sometimes it didn’t take much. On cat’s feet Laurie continued down the hall to JJ’s room. Like Emma, JJ was fast asleep in the room’s semidarkness, but unlike Emma, he looked as if he’d been running a marathon in his bed. His covers and sheets were hopelessly twisted around his nine-and-a-half-year-old body, but with his legs and feet out in the cold. Laurie couldn’t help but smile. Even in sleep the boy was a ball of action, although at that particular moment he was totally still. Without fear of waking him, as he was the opposite of Emma in that regard, Laurie extricated the knot of covers and then spread them back over him, including his legs and feet.

Satisfied with what she had accomplished, Laurie turned with the intent of heading downstairs to the kitchen to get some breakfast. The plan was to use this bonus time in her day to go over the material she’d laboriously prepared the night before and would be presenting during her command appearance that morning at a recently scheduled meeting of the City Council’s Committee on Health. It was this meeting and her long-term anathema to speaking in front of groups that had awakened her so early. But she didn’t get far, and an involuntary yelp escaped her lips as she collided with Jack, who had come into JJ’s bedroom behind her and was about to tap her on the shoulder. Even Jack jumped at Laurie’s apparent shock.

“My God!” Laurie managed in a forced whisper. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I can say the same.” Jack pressed an open palm against his chest in the stereotypical sign of distress. In contrast to Laurie, his feet were bare, and he wore only pajama bottoms to ward against the chill. “Was something wrong with JJ?” He looked around Laurie at the sleeping child.

“No, he’s fine. I just covered him up.”

“What are you doing up out of bed?” he questioned with obvious concern. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you up and about before six. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m just a little worried about this morning’s City Council Committee meeting,” she said. “I want to go over the material I was working on last night. I told you about it.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Jack said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “That’s so much to do about nothing. You shouldn’t waste your time and emotion on a little mix-up just because a handful of politicians are up in arms.”

“I don’t see it that way, not when the City Council has oversight over the OCME budget,” Laurie said. “Keeping them happy is one of my main responsibilities, especially when we’re in dire need of a new Forensic Pathology building and a new autopsy suite.”

“But the little body switcheroo was an understandable mistake. No one was hurt, and it was easy to rectify.”

“It’s easy for you to say no one was hurt. I heard both families were pretty damn upset and at least one of them is thinking of suing. Dealing with death is hard enough without having to experience the emotional shock of confronting the wrong body in an open-casket wake.”

The origin of the problem was the near-simultaneous arrival at the OCME of two cadavers with the same first and last name, Henry Norton. Even though they received unique accession numbers, the night mortuary tech just checked the name and not the number when the first body was released, meaning both bodies ended up at the wrong funeral homes. To make matters worse, the mistake wasn’t discovered until the family arrived for the first funeral service.

“I truly don’t know how you find the patience for this kind of crap,” he said with a shake of his head. “So what are you going to say to the committee?”

“I’m going to tell them that I personally apologized to both families, which I did. And then I’ll explain the changes in protocol I’ve made in how bodies are released to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I’ve also asked IT to update the case-management system to call attention to similar-named decedents.”

“Well, it sounds like you’ve got the situation well under control.”

“Unfortunately, the problem spread. The funeral home where the mix-up was first discovered is on Staten Island. The director added to his complaint that it takes too long for him to get bodies now that we’ve closed the Staten Island morgue and do the autopsies here in Manhattan.”

“Yikes! So this mix-up of too many Nortons now forces you to justify closing the morgue on Staten Island?”

“It’s worse than that,” Laurie said with a sigh. “One of the Health Committee members is from the Bronx, where the morgue was also closed. She’s claimed that funeral directors in her district have complained about long delays, too. I’ve had to rush together an extensive report on the turnaround times for bodies from all five boroughs. It’s a PowerPoint presentation, and you know how much I detest talking in front of groups.”

“You’ve told me, but it’s a mystery because you always come across like a pro.”

“That’s because I overprepare,” she said. “Hey! Aren’t you freezing? I’m cold, and I’m in a robe and slippers.”

Jack briefly hugged himself and pretended to shiver. “It is a bit chilly.”

“Get your robe and come downstairs,” Laurie said. “I’ll make some coffee. There’s a favor I need to ask you to do for me this morning.”

“Favor?” Jack questioned as he paused at the door to the hallway. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that. What kind of favor?”

“Something I was going to do this morning, but now because of this impromptu meeting down at 250 Broadway, I need you to go in my place.”

“Was this something you were scheduled to do as the chief medical examiner? I don’t need to remind you that I’m not good at politics.”