“I didn’t think doctors thought that way,” Lou said. “I thought you guys all switched into neutral or something.”
“Hardly,” Laurie said. Duncan ’s pale body lay in apparent repose on the steel table. His eyelids were closed. The only thing that marred his appearance aside from his pasty white color were the excoriations on his forearms. Laurie pointed to them. “Those deep scratches are probably the result of what’s called formication. That’s a tactile hallucination of bugs under or on the skin. It’s seen in both cocaine and amphetamine intoxication.”
Lou shook his head. “I can’t understand why people take drugs,” he said. “It’s beyond me.”
“They do it for pleasure,” Laurie said. “Unfortunately, drugs like cocaine tap into parts of the brain that developed during evolution as the reward center. It was to encourage behavior likely to perpetuate the species. If the war against drugs is to succeed, the fact that drugs can be pleasurable has to be admitted and not ignored.”
“Why do I have the feeling you don’t think much of the Just Say No campaign?” Lou asked.
“Because I don’t. It’s stupid,” Laurie said. “Or at least shortsighted. I don’t think the politicians who dreamed that scheme up have a clue to what growing up in today’s society is like, especially for poor urban kids. Drugs are around, and when kids try them and find out that drugs are pleasurable, they think the powers-that-be are lying about the negative or dangerous side as well.”
“You ever try any of that stuff?”
“I’ve tried pot and cocaine.”
“Really?”
“Are you surprised?” Laurie asked.
“I suppose I am, to an extent.”
“Why?”
Lou shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose you don’t look the type.”
Laurie laughed. “I guess he looks more the type than I do right now,” she said, pointing to Andrews. “But when he was alive I bet he didn’t look the type either. Yeah, I tried some drugs in college. Despite what happened to my brother, or maybe because of it.”
“What happened to your brother?” Lou asked.
Laurie looked down at the body of Duncan Andrews. She’d not meant to bring her brother into the conversation. The comment had slipped out as if she were talking with someone with whom she was close.
“Did your brother overdose?” Lou asked.
Laurie’s eyes went from Duncan ’s corpse to Lou. She couldn’t lie. “Yes,” she said. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine,” Lou said. “I don’t mean to pry.”
Laurie turned back to Duncan ’s body. For a second she was immobilized by the thought it was her brother’s body before her on that cold table. She was relieved to be interrupted by Vinnie returning with gloves, specimen bottles, preservatives, labels, and a series of instruments. She was eager to get started and put these reveries behind her.
“Let’s do it,” Vinnie said. He began applying the labels to the specimen jars.
Laurie opened the gloves and put them on. She put on her goggles and began a careful exterior examination of Duncan Andrews. After looking at Duncan ’s head, she motioned for Lou to step around to the other side of the table. Parting Duncan ’s hair with her gloved hand, she showed Lou multiple bruises.
“I’ll bet he had at least one convulsion,” Laurie said. “Let’s look at the tongue.”
Laurie opened Duncan ’s mouth. The tongue was lacerated in several locations. “Just what I expected,” she said. “Now let’s see how much cocaine this fellow has been using.” With a small flashlight and a nasal speculum, she looked up Duncan ’s nose. “No perforations. Looks normal. Guess he hadn’t been sniffing much.”
Laurie straightened up. She noticed Lou’s attention had been directed at a neighboring table where they were busy sawing off the top of a skull. Their eyes met.
“You okay?” Laurie questioned.
“I’m not sure,” Lou said. “You actually do this every day?”
“On average, three or four days a week,” Laurie said. “You want to go outside for a while? I can let you know when we do DePasquale.”
“No, I’ll be all right. Let’s get on with it. What’s next?”
“I usually check the eyes,” Laurie said. She studied Lou. The last thing she wanted was for him to pass out and hit his head on the concrete floor. That had happened to a visitor once before.
“Continue,” Lou urged. “I’m fine.”
Laurie shrugged. Then she put her thumb and index finger on Duncan ’s eyelids and drew them up.
Lou gasped and turned away.
For a moment even Laurie was taken aback. The eyes were gone! The pulpy red sockets were filled with pink-stained wads of gauze. It gave the corpse a ghastly appearance.
“Okay!” Lou said. “You got me. You set me up and you got me. I’ll have to give you that.” He turned back to Laurie. The bit of facial skin visible between his mask and his hood was blanched. “Let me guess: this was some sort of initiation ordeal for the rookie.”
Laurie let out a short, nervous laugh. “I’m sorry, Lou,” she said. “I’d forgotten the eyes had been taken. Truly. This was the case where the family was insistent that the deceased’s wishes to be an organ donor be honored. If the eyes can be harvested within twelve hours, they often can be used if there are no other contraindications. Occasionally it can even be longer than twelve hours if the body is chilled.”
“I don’t mind being the butt of a joke,” Lou said.
“But it wasn’t a joke,” Laurie insisted. “I’m sorry. Honest. I’d been called on this case yesterday. With everything else that’s happened, I’d forgotten. I just remembered this was a case where the victim took the cocaine IV. Let’s see if we can find the injection site.”
Laurie rotated Duncan ’s right arm palm up so she could examine its volar surface. Vinnie did the same with the left arm.
“Here it is,” Laurie exclaimed, pointing to a minute puncture wound over one of the veins in front of the elbow area.
“I didn’t know cocaine could be mainlined,” Lou said.
“It’s taken into the body just about every way you can imagine and some you can’t,” Laurie said. “IV is not common, but it’s done.” As she spoke, her mind took her back to the night before she found Shelly dead in his bedroom. He’d just come home from Yale, and Laurie was in his room, eager to hear about college. His open Dopp kit was on his bed.
“What’s this?” Laurie questioned. She held up a pack of condoms.
“Give me that,” Shelly shouted, clearly peeved to have his baby sister find such a thing in his shaving kit.
Laurie giggled as Shelly snatched the contraceptives from her hand. While Shelly was busy burying them in his top bureau drawer, Laurie looked into the Dopp kit to see what else she could find. But what she saw was more disturbing than interesting. Touching it ever so gingerly, Laurie lifted a 10 cc syringe from the bag. It was the needle she was to see the following day.
“What is this?” she demanded.
Shelly came over and tried to grab the needle, but Laurie evaded him.
“You got this from Daddy’s office, didn’t you?” Laurie demanded.
“Give me that or you are in serious trouble,” Shelly snapped. He trapped her against the wall.
Laurie gripped the needle in both hands behind her back. Having grown up in New York City, she knew what it meant when a fellow teenager had a needle.
“Are you shooting up?” Laurie asked.
Shelly overpowered her and got the needle. He took it over to his bureau and hid it with his condoms. Then he turned back to his sister, who hadn’t moved.
“I’ve tried it a couple of times,” Shelly said. “It’s called speedball. A lot of the guys at school do it. It’s no big deal. But I don’t want you to say anything to Mom or Dad. If you do, I’ll never talk to you again. You understand? Never.”
Laurie’s momentary reverie was cut short by the booming voice of Calvin Washington. “What the hell is going on here?” he yelled. “Why haven’t you even started this case? I came in here to see if you found anything we can hang our hats on and you haven’t even started. Get busy.”