Робин Кук - Genesis

May 10th

6:25 P.M.

More discouraged than when she arrived, Aria wandered out of the OCME front office and into the public lobby. A large group of people, half of whom were crying, were mostly congregating at the far end of the room. They were also occupying most of the ample seating. Aria stopped and observed them for a moment, feeling some kinship with their distress, although she was more irritably depressed than sad. Coming as close as she had to Lover Boy’s identity and yet still being denied success didn’t seem at all fair to her. Yet what could she do? Coming to the OCME in an attempt to snare Laurie’s help with the DA’s office had been the last gasp of her search for the missing father. Short of walking into the DA’s office herself come morning, which she was convinced would be a total waste of time, she had no more ideas except possibly going to the police. Unfortunately, David Goldberg had nixed that idea by explaining that the police didn’t like to make paperwork for themselves except when it was reasonably clear homicide was involved, which certainly didn’t include overdose cases.

All of the sudden one of the grief-stricken mourners let out a particularly loud wail that grated on Aria’s nerves. She glanced at the uniformed security guard, whose expression didn’t change, suggesting that he’d seen it all over the years and was immune. Aria felt otherwise, and quickly pushed out through the front door onto First Avenue. The scene in the lobby was making her feel more depressed.

Just being outside helped, despite the roar and exhaust of the rush-hour traffic. What made it somewhat pleasant was that the weather continued to be almost perfect, with the late-afternoon sun again bathing the tops of the buildings in a golden glow. Intending to summon a rideshare to get her over to the Upper West Side, Aria pulled out her phone. Once she did, she hesitated before opening the Uber app. Something about merely holding the phone keyed off the memory of having gotten the surprising text from Dr. Henderson while she was talking with David Goldberg two days ago. It had been just about the same time of day. Out of curiosity, she pulled up the message and reread it, which brought to mind the rather strange meeting she had with the head of Pathology that the text had initiated. What particularly popped into her mind was his being supportive of her search for Lover Boy and his interest in being kept up to date on her progress. He’d also expressed immediate fascination with her idea of using genetic genealogy when she’d mentioned it.

For a few moments she stared blindly into the chaotic traffic scene playing out in front of her while she thought about Dr. Carl Henderson. As the chief of the Department of Pathology at a major academic medical center, he was, by definition alone, a connected individual who might be not only willing to help but also possibly highly capable. As soon as the idea occurred to her, Aria wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before. Suddenly it seemed so obvious.

Without a second’s hesitation, Aria used the text from Carl to call him. It certainly wasn’t too late to be calling, especially since it had been slightly later when she’d called him two nights ago. With each ring, her optimism lessened, but then on the fourth, he picked up.

“Aria?”

“I hope I’m not calling at a bad time,” she said, even though she didn’t care if she was.

“Not at all,” Carl said. “What’s up?”

“I’m wondering if you might be free. I’ve made some significant progress in finding the missing lover, but I’ve hit up against a problem. I need to ask for your help, but I’d rather explain it to you in person. To explain it, I would like to show you something I think you will find fascinating.”

“This sounds intriguing. By all means, I can meet you. Are you in the neighborhood?”

“Yes, I’m at the OCME. Are you in your office?”

“No, but I could be in a matter of minutes,” Carl said. “I’m nearby in my lab. Coincidentally, your question about channelopathies and fentanyl keyed off my interest. Since there was nothing in the literature when I looked, I’m putting in for a grant to investigate the association.”

“I can be at your office in ten minutes,” Aria said, ignoring the channelopathy and fentanyl issue.

“Fine! See you there!” he said sprightly.

After pocketing her phone, Aria set out at a good pace, walking north. Once again, her mood had changed and was now on the upswing. Even so, she couldn’t help question why she hadn’t considered Dr. Henderson’s help before she had. It now seemed so intuitive.

With her newly regained motivation, she was on the floor where Carl had his office in just over five minutes. The scene was an exact repeat of when she’d visited last, including the same janitors vacuuming the carpet in the otherwise deserted office area. Even Dr. Henderson’s corner office door was ajar, and, also like that visit, Aria walked directly in without any hesitation. On this occasion Dr. Henderson saw her the moment she appeared and stood up and began to come around from behind his desk.

“Why don’t you stay at your desk, Dr. Henderson,” Aria half suggested, half commanded. She didn’t want a repeat of the couch scene. Besides, she wanted to be able to put the family tree diagrams she’d brought on the desk surface so Dr. Henderson could check them out to his satisfaction. She was certain he would find them captivating.

“Okay, fine by me,” Carl said with a shrug. “But I thought we had established that we’re on a first-name basis.”

“Whatever,” she said, even though she wasn’t happy about the familiarity it implied. Without asking permission, she grabbed one of the two straight-backed chairs from the office’s sitting area and brought it over in front of his desk. As she did so, she avoided looking at any of the various displayed memorabilia that reminded her of her father’s study back when she was a preteen. The moment she sat down, Carl did the same.

“This is a nice surprise,” Carl said. He leaned back in his ergonomic tiltable desk chair and briefly put his hands behind his head to stretch. Then he tipped forward again. “You’ve certainly stoked my curiosity. What have you brought to show me?”

Aria pulled out of her jacket pocket the two family trees, unfolded them, and smoothed them out. As she did so, the sound of the vacuum cleaners in the outer office reached a crescendo, meaning the janitors had reached the area just outside of his office. With an irritated shake of his head, Carl got up and closed his office door.

“Sorry about that,” he said as he retook his seat.

“Not a problem,” Aria said. She reached across the desk and placed the two diagrams side by side, directly in front of Carl. She then repeated almost word for word what she had told Laurie about what they represented.

After she finished her explanation, she fell silent and let him study the sheets. He was obviously totally absorbed. Finally, he looked up. “This is unbelievable,” he said in awe. “I’m shocked that you were able to find all this out so quickly. When you said you were going to use genetic genealogy in your search for the father of the fetus, I thought it might take months.”

“The credit goes to the computer geeks at a company called GenealogyDNA,” Aria said, “particularly with the help of one of the company’s founders, Vijay Srinivasan. I wouldn’t have been able to do it even if I had months.”

“To make sure I’m understanding,” Carl said, “these two family trees are really the family trees of the missing father, isn’t that correct?”

“Obviously,” she said. She restrained herself from adding something derogatory.