"Take good care of our boy," Dr. McGillin said. "He's our only child." With that, he turned, opened the door to the reception area, and urged his wife forward into the press of reporters.
Desperate for news, the reporters instantly fell into an expectant silence the moment the McGillins appeared. Anticipating a news conference, all eyes followed their progress. The couple had advanced halfway across the reception area on their way to the main door when someone broke the silence by yelling out: "Are you part of the Cromwell family?" Dr. McGillin merely shook his head without slowing his progress. "Are you related to the police custody case?" someone else demanded. Dr. McGillin shook his head again. With that, the reporters switched their attention to Laurie. Apparently recognizing her as one of the medical examiners, a number even spilled into the ID room. An avalanche of questions followed.
Initially ignoring the reporters, Laurie went up on her tiptoes to see the McGillins exit the OCME. Only then did she look at the people pressed around her. "Sorry," she said, pushing microphones away. "I know nothing of those cases. You'll have to wait for the chief." Luckily, one of the OCME security personnel had materialized from within the reception area, and he managed to herd the reporters back to where they'd come from.
Relative silence returned to the ID room once the connecting door had been closed. For a moment, Laurie stood with her arms hanging limply at her sides. She had Sean McGillin Jr.'s folder in one hand and his father's scribbled phone number in other. Dealing with the grieving couple had been trying, especially since she was feeling psychologically fragile herself. But there was a positive side. Knowing herself as well as she did, she knew it was helpful to be involved in an emotionally wrenching situation, because it put her own problems in perspective. Keeping her mind occupied was a good hedge against backsliding into what she'd come to recognize as an unacceptable status quo.
Fortified to a degree, Laurie headed into the ID office while pocketing Dr. McGillin's phone number. "Where's everybody?" she asked Riva, who was still busy with the scheduling process.
"You and Jack are the only ones here so far, besides Bingham, Washington, and Fontworth."
"What I meant was, where are Detective Soldano and Vinnie?"
"Jack came in and took them both down to the pit. The detective asked Jack to do the Cromwell case."
"That's curious," Laurie remarked. Jack usually shied away from cases that attracted a lot of media attention, and the Cromwell case certainly fell into that category.
"He seemed genuinely interested in it," Riva said, as if reading Laurie's mind. "He also asked for the double suicide, which I didn't expect. I had a feeling he had an ulterior motive, but I have no idea what it could have been."
"Do you happen to know if any of the other techs are here yet? I'd like to get started myself with McGillin."
"I saw Marvin a few minutes ago. He got coffee and went downstairs."
"Perfect," Laurie said. She enjoyed working with Marvin. He'd been on evenings but had recently been switched to days. "I'll be in the pit if you need me."
"I'm going to have to assign you at least one more case. It's an overdose. I'm sorry. I know you said you had a bad night, but we've got a full schedule today."
"That's fine," Laurie assured her. She walked over to get the overdose folder. "Work's a good way to keep my mind off my problems."
"Problems? What kind of problems?"
"Don't ask!" Laurie said with a dismissive wave. "It's the same old, same old with Jack, but this morning I laid it on the line. I know I sound like a broken record, but this time I mean it. I'm moving back to my own apartment. He's going to have to make a decision one way or the other."
"Good for you," Riva responded. "Maybe it will give me strength."
Along with sharing office space, Laurie and Riva had become good friends. Riva's boyfriend was as resistant to commitment as Jack, but for different reasons, so she and Laurie had a lot to talk about.
After momentarily debating whether or not to have coffee and deciding not to, for fear that it would give her a tremor, Laurie started off to find Marvin. Although she was going only one floor down, she headed toward the elevator. She was exhausted from lack of sleep, just as she knew she would be when she had been unable to fall back asleep that morning. But instead of feeling irritated with herself, she was content. She certainly wasn't happy, because of her feelings for Jack, and she knew she was going to be lonely, yet she felt she'd done what she had to do, and in that way, she was satisfied.
When Laurie passed the forensic investigators' office, she leaned in and asked if Janice had left. Bart Arnold, the chief investigator, told her she had but asked if he could help. Laurie said she'd talk to her some other time and continued on her way. She had only wanted to fill Janice in about the conversation she'd had with the McGillins. She thought Janice would be interested. The fact that the case had penetrated Janice's usually thick emotional skin was what had intrigued Laurie in the first place.
Marvin was in the mortuary office, attending to his portion of the never-ending paperwork that engulfed the OCME. He had already changed into green scrubs in anticipation of getting down to work in the "pit," the term everyone fondly used in referring to the main autopsy room. He glanced up when Laurie appeared in the doorway. He was an athletic-looking African-American with the most flawless skin Laurie had ever seen. Laurie had been instantly jealous the first time she met Marvin.
Laurie was sensitive about her complexion. Along with her blond coloring, she had a spattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose as well as a scattering of other imperfections that only she could see. Although Laurie had gotten brown hair with auburn highlights from her father, her almost transparent skin and blue-green eyes came from her mother.
"Are you ready to rock and roll?" Laurie asked playfully. She knew from experience that she'd feel better if she didn't act tired.
"You're on, sister!" Marvin responded.
Laurie handed over the folders. "I want to do McGillin first."
"No problem," Marvin said, consulting the ledger for the location of the body.
Laurie first went into the locker room to change into scrubs, then went over to the storage room to don a "moon suit." "Moon suit" was the term used by the staff to describe the protective gear required while doing autopsies. They were fashioned of completely impervious material, with attached hoods and full-face masks. Air was brought into the suit through a HEPA filter by a self-contained fan, powered by a battery that had to be charged each night. The suits were not popular, since they made working more difficult, but everyone accepted the handicap for peace of mind, except Jack. She knew that when Jack was on call on weekends, he frequently dispensed with the moon suit on certain cases where he felt the risk of an infectious agent was low. In those circumstances, he reverted back to the traditional goggles and surgical facemask. The techs seemed content to keep his secret. If Calvin found out, there would be hell to pay.
After climbing into her gear, Laurie retraced her steps to the central corridor, then walked down to the door of the anteroom, where she washed and gloved. Thus prepared, she pushed into the autopsy room.
Even after working at the OCME for thirteen years, Laurie still savored the tingle of excitement she felt as she entered what she considered to be the center of action. It certainly wasn't the visual experience, for in that regard, the tiled, windowless room with its blue-white fluorescent lighting was cheerless. The eight stainless-steel tables were dented and stained from countless postmortems. Over each hung an antiquated spring-loaded scale. Along the walls were exposed piping, dated X-ray view boxes, old-fashioned glass-fronted cabinets containing an array of grisly instruments, and chipped soapstone sinks. More than a half century ago, it had been a state-of-the-art facility and the pride of the OCME, but now it suffered from lack of funds for both modernization and appropriate upkeep. Yet the physical plant didn't faze Laurie. The setting didn't even register in her mind. Her response was based on knowing that she would see or learn something new every time she entered the room.