Робин Кук - Genesis

“What’s up?” Jack asked when he confronted Bart. Bart was a heavyset man with a mostly bald pate and just a tad of grayish straggly hair that ran around the back of his head from temple to temple. Although normally remarkably calm since he’d seen just about everything in his career as a death investigator for the OCME, he was noticeably agitated.

“Something unexpected and distressing has happened,” Bart said. “One of the NYU residents assigned this month to the OCME is either in the cooler already or on the way in.”

“My God!” Jack murmured. “Which one?”

“The woman,” Bart said in a forced whisper, even though no one else was in earshot.

“Are you talking about Dr. Nichols?” he said with disbelief.

“That’s exactly who I’m talking about,” Bart said with a nod of his head. “The call came in about an hour ago that the victim had overdosed. I mean, talk about this fentanyl-opioid epidemic getting close to home; I’m blown away. This is like one of our own. Anyway, knowing the potential repercussions and all, I handled it myself rather than assigning it to one of my team. I visited the scene and found it a typical overdose with drug paraphernalia out on the coffee table, including the syringe she’d used. My estimate is that she’d been dead eight to ten hours with her algor mortis and her full rigor mortis.”

Jack’s mind switched into overdrive, trying to think of the best way to handle the situation.

“I’ve already called Dr. Montgomery,” Bart added, stumbling over his words.

“That’s unfortunate,” Jack said, immediately thinking that Laurie didn’t need this kind of stress hours before she was scheduled to be admitted for her surgery.

“I didn’t quite know what to do,” Bart confessed. “I know your wife is scheduled for surgery this afternoon but...”

“You could have called George Fontworth,” he said. “He’s the acting chief at the moment.”

“I tried,” Bart said. “He wasn’t immediately available, so I left my name and number. When he didn’t call right back, I thought I should let Laurie know. It seemed like an emergency.”

“Okay, what’s done is done,” Jack said. “What did she say? Should I call her?”

“She told me to speak directly with you, which is why I’m here,” Bart said. “She said you should be the point person and do the autopsy. She also asked me to ask you to call Dr. Henderson, to make sure he knows what’s happened. And she wants you to give Mrs. Donnatello a heads-up so Public Relations can deal with the press.”

“Did she say anything about me getting in touch with her?” Jack asked. For him, that was the key question. If Laurie was distressed or worried about the situation, he needed to call her. If not, he didn’t want to bother her. She surely had enough on her mind.

“I don’t think she expects a call about this,” Bart said. “That was my sense.”

“All right, good,” Jack said. “Is your investigative report already done?”

“I’ll make sure it’s in the case file,” Bart said. “But I can assure you that there will be no surprises. As I said, it was a very typical overdose scene.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” Jack said. “I appreciate you coming all the way up here to 520.” Ensconced in relative luxury in the new high-rise digs, the MLIs rarely ventured back to their old haunt.

“You’re welcome,” Bart said. “Apparently the mother is coming in from Greenwich, Connecticut. If I learn anything pertinent, I’ll let you know.”

“On your way upstairs, would you do me a favor?” he asked. “Let Dr. Hernandez know I’ll be doing the Nichols autopsy.”

“I certainly will,” Bart said. “And let me know if you find anything unusual.”

With a sudden burst of energy, Jack pushed back into the autopsy room. What he’d just heard from Bart was certainly terrible news as Jack didn’t wish death on anyone, even someone he found personally trying, yet the awfulness of the news provided a modicum of secondary gain. He was in desperate need of something to take his mind off Laurie’s surgery, and the shocking death of Aria Nichols was certainly going to qualify as a major distraction. As unliked as she was by the mortuary techs, he vaguely wondered if anyone at the OCME was going to miss her.

“Okay, let’s get this case done,” he said when he returned to table #1. In his usual efficient manner, Vinnie had already made a saw cut around the victim’s skull, allowing Jack to lift off the top of the cranium, exposing the brain.

As he was freeing up the brain in anticipation of lifting it out of the skull, Vinnie waved his hand in front of Jack’s face to get his attention. Having worked together on so many cases, they knew each other intimately. “What’s up, boss? You seem mighty stressed.”

Jack straightened up. “You’ll never guess what Bart Arnold wanted to see me about.”

“Sensing your reaction, I wouldn’t even want to try,” Vinnie said.

“I’m afraid the reason Dr. Nichols hadn’t shown up to help us on this case is because she is going to be our next case.”

“Come again?” Vinnie said. He froze. He was holding a pan in anticipation of Jack putting in the brain he’d just removed.

“Dr. Nichols is our next patient,” Jack said. He went back to the business at hand.

“Holy shit,” Vinnie murmured. It was his turn to stare off into the distance.

“Could you hold the pan a little closer?” By this time Jack was juggling the brain in his hands, and because of its texture and consistency, it couldn’t have been more slippery. The last thing he wanted to do was drop it on the floor.

“Sorry,” Vinnie said as he extended the pan for Jack to slosh in the brain. “How the hell did she die?”

“Another apparent overdose,” Jack said. “Can you believe it?”

“God, no!” Vinnie said. “It doesn’t seem possible. We just did two cases with her yesterday. I had no idea she was a drug user. Good riddance.”

“Let’s not be nasty,” he said. “Besides, I’m supposed to be the sarcastic one, not you, and let’s not forget that Aria had her good points. Personally, I think she was going to be one hell of a good pathologist.”

“I can tell you that none of us techs are going to miss her.”

“As expected, the brain looks a little edematous and congested,” Jack said, trying to return his and Vinnie’s attention to the case at hand. He’d put the brain on the cutting board and had made a few slices with a butcher knife. He then put it all into a jar of fixative. Vinnie meanwhile started sewing up the body to close the main Y incision, the incision made in the neck, and the skull cap.

A few minutes later the autopsy was complete. Wordlessly the two men organized the specimen jars and did basic cleaning. Finally, Jack helped Vinnie move the body from the table to a gurney.

“Thank you for helping make this case go so smoothly as usual,” Jack said. “While you take the body into the cooler and finish preparations for the next case, meaning Dr. Nichols, I have to make a call. It won’t take me long, so go ahead and set up. It’s going to be one hell of a strange situation. Are you up for it?”

“I suppose,” Vinnie said. “And you?”

“I guess,” Jack said, although he wasn’t completely certain. It was emotionally uncharted territory.

May 11th

10:48 A.M.

On his way to his office, Jack used the back elevator to get up to the fourth floor. The short ride gave him a moment to try to anticipate what the conversation was going to be like with the head of the NYU Pathology Department. It was not going to be pleasant. Although Jack had only met the man on one occasion, he felt like he knew him from Laurie’s description of her recent talks with him. From his own meeting he recalled that he at least had a sense of humor, which he thought he was going to need when Jack filled him in about Aria Nichols.