Cheryl Stanford, an aging African American woman who could have retired years earlier and who had been the secretary for the former chief, Harold Bingham, had been kept on as Laurie’s secretary. Laurie had pleaded with her to do so, and she had graciously complied, significantly helping Laurie make the transition from medical examiner to chief. The process had not been easy for Laurie, as she had had no administrative training or experience and frankly had not been interested in being an administrator until the job was offered to her by the mayor. It wasn’t until all the medical examiners, including Jack, had talked her into it that she had been willing to accept.
As he entered the administration area near the front entrance of the building, Cheryl looked up. It was obvious she was on the phone and in the middle of a conversation, but the moment she saw Jack, she gave him a thumbs-up, meaning Laurie was currently available. He knocked before opening the inner door.
The décor of her office was the antithesis of the previous chief’s, as was her personality, considering he had been rheumy and grumpy. Although the physical space was identical, it was as if the room were on a different planet. Instead of being dark and forbidding, it was bright and cheerful. It even had colorful drapes and a couch upholstered in matching fabric. Instead of gilt-framed dark paintings of brooding, overweight men in dark suits, the walls were hung with lively Impressionist prints with narrow, blond wood frames.
“Well?” Laurie questioned. She was sitting behind the large, dark mahogany partners desk, which was the only remnant of the office’s previous occupant. Its size emphasized her svelte figure. Spread out in front of her were architectural drawings. “Was there any suggestion of a cerebral hemorrhage?”
“Nothing,” Jack said. “Except for the history of diabetes, she was the picture of health. I’ve rarely seen a cleaner autopsy.”
“Good grief!” Laurie complained, running her free hand nervously through her hair. “That’s distressing. What on earth am I going to tell Abby and the kids?”
“You’ll have to tell them that the cause of death is pending, dependent on what’s to be found on the histology sections and with the toxicology. At least the kids will understand.”
“Unfortunately, Abby already called,” she said. “I spoke to him briefly. Like last night, he was emphatic that he didn’t want an autopsy done, so I had to explain once more that we are required by law to determine the cause of death, which dictates an autopsy. But I told him that the autopsy was already nearly done and that he would get a call to let him know what was found. Most important, I told him that Sue’s body would be available later today to be picked up by a funeral service of his choosing.”
“Was he receptive?”
“Not really. He’s obviously and understandably beside himself. And then he surprised me by asking if the death certificate will be available when the body is released because he was going to need it ASAP.”
“That’s curious,” Jack said.
“My thoughts, too,” Laurie said. “So I asked him why he needed a death certificate ASAP.”
“And what was his response?”
“He said that the life insurance company will not release the funds until they have it in hand.”
For a few beats, they stared at each other. It was Jack who broke the silence. After clearing his throat, he questioned: “Could we be participating in a B movie here?”
Laurie nodded. “I have to confess the same thought went through my mind until I chided myself for even thinking such a thing. At the same time, I’ve known how strict a control Sue always maintained over her diabetes day in and day out. If anything, she was fanatical about it. Anyway, I mentioned to Abby that I didn’t know that Sue had life insurance. I told him that she and I had talked about life insurance when Nadia and Jamal had decided to go to medical school, but that she had decided against it. His response was to say that they had changed their mind a little over a year ago, considering the debt that they had accepted for the kids’ educations, which he said they had been in the process of paying off. He then reminded me that having been a stay-at-home dad and husband, he didn’t have a lot of current career options.”
“I don’t know what to say. It does potentially put a different spin on the case.”
She sighed. “Maybe, maybe not. One way or the other, it’s clear Abby is going to be pressuring us for the death certificate sooner rather than later, and I’m going to feel obligated to produce it.”
“That’s going to be a problem. Unless something definitive comes out of Histology, Toxicology, or Forensic Biology, I have no idea what I could put on a death certificate. I’ve never been comfortable with indeterminate. I consider it kind of a forensic cop-out.”
“The death certificate can always be amended when new information comes to light.”
“That’s not my style,” Jack said.
“Don’t let your imagination run wild,” Laurie said, showing a bit of emerging exasperation. “Listen, Sue and I were close and confided in each other. As far as I know, she and Abby got along just fine.”
“That may be, but peoples’ private life can be far different than what other people suspect. Plus, people evolve and change. Who knows the mindset of a stay-at-home dad after the kids have left the house, when a career has been abandoned, and aging begins to rear its ugly head.”
“Jack, please!” Laurie snapped. “You are jumping to conclusions. Cool it! Besides, you specifically said on the phone that the reason you slunk out of the apartment this morning was to come in here and find yourself a challenging case. Well, here it is! And you have to handle it because I can’t.” She gestured to the architectural drawings. “We need a new morgue, and the city council has balked on the funding. It’s become critical because the lease on this building from NYU Medical Center is running out, and we are going to be literally out in the cold with no autopsy suite. I’ve got a new mayor who is going to be inaugurated in a little more than a month, and I have to get him on board. What all this means is that you are going to have to carry the ball dealing with Abby by providing him with the death certificate he needs. Are we clear on this?”
He gritted his teeth, desperately trying to keep himself from provocatively saluting again. She was back to giving him orders, and although it was more appropriate in this instance, it still galled him. Yet instinctively he knew another salute would cause a scene, as he was aware of the pressure she was under. She’d been vainly struggling with the pressing need for a new morgue for more than a year, and with the city council dragging its feet, it truly was becoming critical.
“Well?” Laurie questioned impatiently when Jack demurred.
“I’ll work on it,” Jack said. “I’ll make sure the Forensic Biology lab looks into the channelopathy issue, as unlikely as it is, and I’ve already dropped off the samples to Maureen and John, asking them to fire their respective afterburners.”
“Thank you,” Laurie said with a sigh of relief. She smoothed out the drawings in front of her, clearly preparing to get back to trying to lower the estimated cost of the building without compromising its mission.
“But I’m not promising anything with the death certificate if nothing positive turns up,” Jack said as he headed for the door. “Without a discernable cause of death, I don’t have to tell you of all people that the manner of death is moot, and if it ain’t a natural death, like a heart attack, which we expected, that leaves only accidental, which isn’t likely; suicidal, which is less likely with no note or obvious method; and homicide. Obviously, the idea she died due to a therapeutic complication, the last manner of death, is a nonstarter, as she wasn’t being treated for anything other than her diabetes.”