“Have you decided who you will assign it to?”
“I was thinking I would do it myself,” she said. “For one thing, it’s my understanding that Muslims prefer the same gender do the autopsy as the deceased, and since I’ve already spoken to the husband, it makes sense.”
“Oh, boy,” Jack commented vaguely with a shake of his head while nervously running a hand through his modified Caesar cut. It was turning out to be a much worse day than he’d bargained for. “Well, I think I’d better call Laurie right away to get her in the loop, but I’m not looking forward to it. She’s going to be one unhappy lady, and because of a few other issues on the home front, as Vinnie correctly suspected, I hate to be the messenger.”
“Sorry to hear. Would you like me to do it?” Jennifer graciously offered.
“Thank you, but no,” he said. “It’s nice of you to offer, but I’ve got to step up to the plate. I kinda immaturely bailed out this morning and need to face the music.” Jack never minded mixing his metaphors.
Jennifer picked up the phone that was on the opposite end of the desk and moved it over in front of him. Jack waved it off, saying he’d use his mobile but wanted to wait until he reread Kevin Strauss’s investigative report more carefully. He knew Laurie would have all sorts of questions, which he wanted to be able to answer.
“Want some fresh coffee for fortification?” Vinnie called out without a hint of sarcasm from where he was standing by the coffee maker.
“Please,” Jack responded as he began rereading and committing to memory Sue’s most recent blood chemistries, particularly her glucose and cholesterol levels. As he went through the whole report, it was obvious that Kevin had had an opportunity to go over Sue’s entire digital health record, which included being diagnosed with type 1 diabetes as a child. What Jack was most interested in determining was if there had been any history of cardiac issues whatsoever. There had been none, though, and a relatively recent routine ECG had been entirely normal.
“As per usual, the MLI did a bang-up job,” Jack commented to no one in particular when he finished. He then pulled his mobile out of his jacket pocket and retreated to one of the upholstered easy chairs. Vinnie brought over a steaming mug of coffee and set it on the side table. Jack acknowledged the gesture with a nod as he pulled up Laurie’s mobile number on his phone’s screen and then, after a sip of his coffee, tapped the screen gently to put the call through.
Chapter 3
Tuesday, December 7, 7:32 a.m.
“Okay, what’s the story?” Laurie answered after the first ring. As Jack fully anticipated, it was plainly obvious from the tone of her voice she was irritated. “Why in heaven’s name did you get up and leave without so much as a note on the fridge? Do I have to deal with three children when two is more than enough with everything else going on?”
“Okay, okay,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you already at the OCME?”
“No, I stopped in at the St. Regis for their lovely French toast,” Jack said, and immediately regretted it.
“This is no time for sarcasm, my friend. You are in the proverbial doghouse, so don’t make it worse.”
“You’re right,” Jack said, controlling himself. “Yes, I’m at work. As an explanation, not an excuse, I’m feeling a little like the odd man out when you and your mother gang up on me about JJ’s Adderall issue and Emma’s schooling.”
“Neither of those issues has been decided,” Laurie said.
“I beg to disagree, according to your mother,” he said, “but listen, there is another issue here that you need to know about for multiple reasons. Are you prepared for a shock?”
There was a distinct pause that Jack allowed to continue and took a sip of his coffee as he waited. He felt it was important for her to have a moment to put aside her pique about his leaving that morning without a note, which Jack was willing to admit had been a bit adolescent.
“Is this a shock in relation to the OCME?” Laurie questioned finally. Her voice had changed, sounding more like the chief medical examiner.
“No, it is personal,” he said. “I hate to be the messenger, but your dear friend Sue Passero is downstairs in the cooler needing to be autopsied.”
“Good lord!” Laurie responded. “That’s awful news. What on earth happened?”
“Apparently, she suffered a terminal event in her car while still in the MMH garage.”
“Most likely a cardiac issue, with her history of diabetes,” she suggested.
“I didn’t know you knew, but that would be my guess, too. I didn’t know she was diabetic until I read the MLI’s report.”
“Sue kept it a secret,” Laurie said. “She didn’t want to be treated any differently because of it, and she swore me to secrecy. I didn’t know until we were in medical school.”
“I suppose I understand. I’d probably do the same.”
“Poor Abby, Nadia, and Jamal,” Laurie said sympathetically. Nadia and Jamal were Sue’s children, both of whom had followed Sue’s lead into medicine and were currently residents, one in surgery and the other in internal medicine like his mother. “This is going to be a terrible shock for them, but more so for Abby as the stay-at-home dad. He’d put his career on hold so Sue could pursue hers.”
“Well, maybe this can be an opportunity for him to go back to selling insurance, if he is inclined.”
“I sincerely doubt it,” she said. “Not after thirty years of being a house-husband.”
“Abby came in to make the ID,” Jack said. “Surprisingly, he apparently made a stink about not wanting an autopsy done, and Jennifer Hernandez had to be involved to explain why it was necessary.”
“Did Abby give a reason?”
“Yes, he said he was Muslim.”
“That’s surprising.”
“That’s what I said.”
“He did grow up in Egypt, so he probably was raised Muslim, but I had no idea he was practicing. Sue never mentioned it, nor did he. How did Jennifer handle the issue? Did she have to come in to speak with him?”
“No, she spoke with him by phone while he was here making the ID. She managed to get things ironed out, but Abby wasn’t a happy camper.”
“Well, let’s get the post done quickly,” Laurie said. “Speed and a timely burial are really the issues for Muslims. But an autopsy needs to be done. And I’m sure Nadia and Jamal will want some answers even if Abby doesn’t. You do the post as your first case and be quick about it.”
“Why me?” Jack complained. A cardiac event with a type 1 diabetic wasn’t going to suffice for what he had in mind to appease his anxieties. It was too forensically routine. Besides, he was reluctant to autopsy someone he knew socially. Such a circumstance had happened to him two years earlier, when Laurie had him autopsy one of the New York University pathology residents who had been rotating at the time through the OCME for a month of forensic training, and it had been a bit unsettling, which had surprised him. After all he’d been through personally, including feeling responsible for losing his first family in a plane crash, he thought he was immune to other peoples’ problems.
“Do it because you are there, because I can count on you to be discreet, and because you are probably the fastest and the most thorough prosector on staff. If Abby is truly religiously concerned, the faster it is done the better.”
“I was here early trying to find a challenging forensic case,” he said. “Doing a routine post is not going to cut it, so to speak.”
“Why on earth do you particularly need a forensically challenging case today?” she asked petulantly. She was now one hundred percent the harried CEO and not the marital partner.