Vector (31 page)

"This place smells weird, " Flash said.

"It reminds me of a hospital, " Warren said.

"No hospital I'd ever want to be in, " Flash said with a nervous laugh.

"You told me you did autopsies in a place called the pit, " Warren said.

"This whole place looks like a pit."

"It could use a bit of a renovation, " Jack admitted. He gestured inside his office.

The three sat down.

Jack smiled. "Did you fellows come all the way down here just to make sure I was going to play tonight? "

"You should have played last night, " Warren said. "You had your chance to run with us. We never lost."

"Maybe I'll luck out tonight, " Jack said.

Warren looked at Flash. "You want to ask him or you want me to? "

"You do it, " Flash said as he fidgeted in his seat. He was clearly agitated.

Warren turned to Jack. "Flash got some bad news this morning. His sister died."

"I'm sorry to hear that, " Jack said. He glanced at Flash, but Flash avoided his eyes.

"She wasn't all that old, " Warren said. "About your age. It was sudden like. And Flash here thinks there had to be some negative stuff going on. You see, she and her old man didn't get on too well, you hear what I'm saying? "

"Am I to assume there was a little domestic violence involved in this relationship? " Jack asked.

"If that's what you call his smacking her around now and then, " Warren said.

"That's the usual euphemism, " Jack said.

"A lot of domestic violence, " Flash interjected heatedly.

"Cool it, " Warren said to Flash. He gave Flash's shoulder a reassuring pat. Turning back to Jack he added, "I had to talk Flash out of going out there and beating the pulp out of his sister's hubby."

"The son of a bitch killed her, " Flash growled.

"Come on, man! " Warren pleaded. "You don't know that for sure."

"I know it, " Flash said.

Warren turned to Jack. "You see what I'm up against. If Flash goes out there, there's going to be trouble. Somebody's going to be dead, and I don't think it's going to be Flash."

"What can I do to help? " Jack asked.

"See if you can find out what killed her, " Warren said. "If she died of something natural-like, then Flash here's going to have to take his irritation out on something else, like on you and me on the court." Warren gave Flash a friendly cuff on the top of the head. Flash parried the blow irritably.

"Where is her body at the moment? " Jack asked.

"At the morgue in Brooklyn, " Warren said. "At least that's what Flash was told by the Coney Island Hospital where she'd been treated."

"Well, then it's going to be easy, " Jack said. "I'll talk to whoever does her autopsy, and we'll have the answer."

"There ain't going to be no autopsy, " Flash blurted. "That's part of what's bothering me.

They took her to the morgue to have an autopsy, but now she's not going to. Something's wrong here, you know what I'm saying? "

"Not necessarily, " Jack said. "Not every corpse brought into the medical examiner's office is autopsied. In fact, that she wasn't autopsied means that the chances of foul play are small. Since she died at a hospital, it means that the attending doctor certified the cause of death, and in that case an autopsy is not mandatory."

"Flash is thinking conspiracy here, " Warren said.

"I can assure you there's no conspiracy, " Jack said. "Incompetence, maybe, but conspiracy, no."

"But.. ." Flash began.

"Hold on! " Jack interrupted. "I'll still look into it for you. What was her name? "

"Connie Davydov, " Flash said.

Jack wrote the name down and reached for the phone. He called the Brooklyn office, which administratively was part of the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner of New York. Technically Bingham was chief, but the Brooklyn office had its own acting head. His name was Jim Bennett.

"Who's the scheduling ME this week? " Jack asked the operator who answered after Jack had identified himself.

"Dr. Randolph Sanders, " the operator said. "Would you like me to page him? "

"If you wouldn't mind, " Jack said. He wasn't pleased.

He was reasonably acquainted with Randolph, whom he put in the same category with perfunctories like George Fontworth. Jack tapped his pencil while he waited. He wished he'd be dealing with any one of the four other Brooklyn MES.

When Randolph came on the line Jack wasted no time getting to the point. He asked why an autopsy wasn't done on Connie Davydov.

"I'll have to get the folder, " Randolph said. "Why do you ask? "

"I've gotten a request to look into the case, " Jack said. He left it vague who had asked him. If Randolph wanted to think it was Bingham or Calvin, that was fine with Jack.

"Hold on, " Randolph said.

Jack turned to Flash with his palm over the mouthpiece of the phone.

"Davydov doesn't sound like any African-American name I've ever heard."

"It's not, " Flash said. "Connie's husband is a white boy." Jack nodded, sensing there was more reason for possible hostility between Flash and Connie's spouse than the purported history of domestic violence. "Did he get along with the rest of your family? "

"Ha! " Flash voiced contemptuously. "The family wouldn't talk to either one of them. They didn't want her to marry him, no way."

"Okay, I have the folder, " Randolph said into the phone, capturing Jack's attention.

"And I've got the PA's report in front of me."

"What's the scoop? " Jack asked.

"The attending doctor, Michael Cooper, gave a diagnosis of status asthmaticus leading to death, " Randolph said. "There was a long history of asthma with hospitalizations and multiple ER visits. She was also grossly obese, which I'm sure didn't help her breathing when she got into trouble. It also says she had lots of allergies."

"I see, " Jack said. "Tell me, did you look at the body? "

"Of course I looked at the body! " Randolph was clearly offended by the query.

"In your professional opinion, were there any signs of domestic violence? " Jack asked.

"If there'd been signs of domestic violence I would have done the goddamned autopsy, " Randolph said defensively.

"Any signs of suffocation? " Jack asked. "Like petechial hemorrhages in the sclera. Anything like that? "

"You're insulting me with such questions, " Randolph shot back.

"How about toxicology? " Jack asked. "Were any samples taken? "

"An autopsy wasn't done! " Randolph snapped. "We don't do toxicology on cases we don't post. Neither do you." Randolph disconnected without another word. Jack raised his eyebrows as he hung up the receiver.

"Kinda sensitive guy although in his defense my lack of diplomatic skills is legendary. Anyhow, did you hear the other end of that conversation? " Both Warren and Flash nodded. "He said there was no sign of domestic violence, " Jack said. "Now he's not the world's greatest medical examiner in my opinion, but recognizing domestic violence isn't that hard even though it can be subtle."

"Why did you ask about toxicology? " Warren questioned.

"Poisons, things like that are picked up in toxicology, " Jack said.

"That kind of stuff goes on." Warren looked at Flash.

"Do you want me to continue looking into this? " Jack asked.

Flash nodded. "I'm sure he killed her."

"After what you just heard, why do you still feel that way? "

"Because she didn't have no strong history of asthma and allergies."

"Are you sure? " Jack asked with astonishment.

"Yeah, I'm sure, " Flash said. "I'm her brother, ain't I? Hey, she had a little when she was young. But I'm talking about when she was ten.

Over the last couple of years I've been talking to her at least once a week. She didn't have no allergies and no asthma."

"My word, " Jack said. "That puts a new spin on all this."

"What else can you do? " Warren asked.

"I can call the attending doctor, for one thing, " Jack said. "The doctor that took care of her at the Coney Island Hospital." Since Jack had the Yellow Pages open to the hospital section, it was easy for him to get the number. He called and asked for Dr. Michael Cooper to be paged. When he got the man on the line, he went through his usual ME routine of explaining who he was and why he was calling. In contrast to Randolph, Michael was cooperative and not at all defensive.

"I do remember Connie Davydov, " Michael said. "Tough case! She came in essentially moribund. The EMTS described her as very cyanotic when they arrived at her home and barely breathing if at all. She'd collapsed in the bathroom where her husband found her. They gave her oxygen immediately and ventilated her. When she got here to the ER she was acidotic with a CO2 off the chart and low arterial oxygen saturation.

The numbers improved with adequate ventilation but her clinical state didn't. She had no peripheral reflexes, dilated and fixed pupils, and an essentially flat EEG. There wasn't much we could do."

"How did her chest sound? " Jack asked.

"By the time she got here, it sounded clear, " Michael said. "But that didn't surprise us with the low oxygen saturation and the degree of acidosis she had. All her muscles, including her smooth muscles, were essentially paralyzed. Considering her size, she was like a beached whale."

"Any suggestion of a heart attack? "

"Nope, " Michael said.

"The EKG was essentially normal, although the rate was very slow, and there were some changes consistent with her low arterial oxygen."

"What about stroke? "

"We ruled that out with a CAT scan that was normal, " Michael said. "We also did an LP, and the fluid was clear."

"Any fever, skin lesions, or other signs of infection? " Jack asked.

"Nothing, " Michael said. "In fact, her temperature was subnormal."

"And you did get a strong history of asthma and allergies, " Jack said.

"How did you get it? Was it through hospital records? "

"No, from the husband, " Michael said. "He was pretty together despite his ordeal and was able to give us a good history." Jack thanked the man and hung up. He turned to Warren and Flash. "This is getting more interesting.

It doesn't sound as if the history was corroborated. I think maybe I ought to take a look at Connie."

"Can you do that? " Warren asked.

"Why not? " Jack said.

Jack went back to the phone to try to get Randolph on the line directly, but no one picked up. Next he tried paging him. When the operator came back to ask who was calling, Jack gave his name and waited again. When the operator returned the second time, she told him that the doctor was busy. Jack left a message that he was on his way over.

"Seems that Dr. Sanders is indulging in a bit of passive-aggressive behavior, " Jack said as he stood up. He picked up his cellular phone and his small camera and pocketed both. "What do you guys want to do? You're welcome to come along."

"You want to go? " Warren asked Flash. "I got the time." Flash nodded. "I want to see this to the end."

"How'd you get here to the ME's office? " Jack asked.

Warren held up an ignition key. "I got my wheels parked right outside on Thirtieth Street."

"Perfect, " Jack said. "Let's go! " They took the elevator down to the basement and were about to exit through the loading dock area when Jack paused.

"I've just been thinking, " he said. "Who knows what my reception's going to be over in Brooklyn. It might be best to bring my own supplies."

"What kind of supplies you talking about? " Warren asked.

"It'll take too long to explain, " Jack said. "You guys wait here or out by the car. I'll be right back." Jack detoured into the depths of the morgue, passing the bank of refrigerated compartments where the bodies were stored prior to being autopsied. Conveniently, he ran into Vinnie coming out of the pit. Jack asked the mortuary tech to get him a bunch of sample containers for various body fluids, a mask, rubber gloves, a clutch of syringes, a couple of scalpels, and a nasogastric tube.

"What the hell are you going to do? " Vinnie asked. He eyed Jack suspiciously.

"Probably going to get myself in hot water, " Jack said.

"Are you going out of house? "

"I'm afraid so."

"You want me to come along? " Vinnie asked.

"Thank you, but no, " Jack said. "But I appreciate the offer." It didn't take Vinnie long to get the material, and by the time he reappeared Jack had gotten a small satchel he used to carry an extra set of underclothes back and forth between work and his apartment.

Especially during the summer, he sweated profusely on his morning bicycle commute and had to shower and change.

Jack threw all the supplies into the satchel, thanked Vinnie, and headed back to the loading dock. He found Warren and Flash on the , sidewalk. They were again arguing about whether Flash should go out to confront his brother-in-law.

As they piled into the car the two lifelong friends behaved as if they were angry with each other. Jack got into the spacious back seat, while Warren and Flash climbed into the front. The car was a five-year-old Cadillac.

"Can't we make this a pleasant trip? " Jack asked, hoping to ease the tense atmosphere.

"He's crazy! " Warren complained throwing his hands in the air. "He's going to get himself in big trouble or killed, you know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, but it was my sister who was murdered, " Flash shot back. "If it were yours, you'd feel the same way I do."

"But you don't know she was murdered, " Warren said. "That's the whole point.

That's why we're here talking to the doc."

"Listen, Flash, " Jack said. "I'm reasonably confident I'll be able to tell if there was foul play, but you might have to be patient. I might not be able to say definitively for a couple of days."

"How come a couple of days? " Flash asked. He swung around in his seat to glare at Jack. "I thought you could tell if you just looked at her."

"That might be, " Jack said. "But I kinda doubt it, since Randolph didn't see anything. He's not that bad an ME. What I'm concerned about.. .. .. ..

is some Kana or poison.