“No, we did not.”
“May I ask if the source of your estrangement was her sexual preference?” Jack asked, trying again to be as diplomatic as possible, even if it wasn’t his nature. Even so, he knew he was pushing the limits of what he could ask these total strangers, even with the help of his medical examiner badge.
“Of course it was,” Robert said bitterly. “Her behavior from age thirteenon was an affront to God. Homosexuality is an abomination and a violation of the Seventh Commandment. We could not have that in our house.”
“I see,” Jack said. He was going to ask if they were aware of her death, but he couldn’t see any point. He thought it would only harden their self-righteous, narrow-minded indignation about her sexual orientation. “Thank you for your time.”
As Jack climbed back into the SUV he felt a renewed sadness for Carol Stewart. Having to deal with her bigoted parents must have caused her significant pain as a teenager. Jack had a knee-jerk negative reaction to hyper-religious people, no matter what the religion. In his former life he’d been brought up in a Catholic family, but one that was less than perfect as far as following the dogma. By the time he’d gotten through college he’d become more of an agnostic, wanting to believe there was an organizing, moral force but unsure of what it was. Then, after the catastrophe with his first family, he’d become an avowed atheist, fully convinced a loving God wouldn’t kill children or give them neuroblastoma or autism.
Meeting the Stewarts had only confirmed his feelings about religion. But the quick visit had not been a total waste of effort. He had gained more information about Carol. What he didn’t know was what role it would play in the disaster that was about to unfold.
22
WEDNESDAY, 1:05 P.M.
“Yes, Dr. Lauder is here now,” the secretary/assistant said in answer to Jack’s query as she stood up from her desk. “What was your name again?”
“Dr. Jack Stapleton,” Jack said. He was back at the very modest storefront private office of the medical examiner in the town of Dover. Jack was interested in finding out if anything at all had been learned at the second autopsy carried out at the Dover Valley Hospital. Other than providing samples of the heart, he couldn’t imagine it had accomplished anything.
While he waited, Jack looked around the tiny, skimpy waiting area with Masonite walls, several molded plastic chairs, and some outdated magazines. Other than possible work relating to the Dover Valley Hospital and GeneRx, he couldn’t imagine there would be much call for a medical examiner in such a small town. Jack thought it was a good thing the man did it part-time. He remembered from the Higgins funeral director that the ME also worked for the Morris County Medical Examiner’s Office, apparently splitting his time. After the offers of employment by Wei Zhao, Jack tried to imagine himself living in the area. He couldn’t. No matter how much they paid him, he thought he’d go mad.
“Dr. Lauder will see you now,” the secretary/assistant said, reappearing from the inner office.
Jack retraced the woman’s steps. The inner office had the same unrefined general appearance as the outer room. The furniture looked as if it had come from a secondhand store, and Dr. Harvey Lauder fit in perfectly. He was a short, stocky, pug-nosed man with thinning hair and a very obvious comb-over vainly attempting to cover a tonsure-like bald spot. His casual clothes had a baggy, lived-in look with a tear in his flannel shirt at the left elbow. As Jack entered, the ME got to his feet and extended his hand in a welcoming fashion. “Harvey Lauder,” he said, giving Jack’s hand a shake. He pointed to a single straight-backed chair and retook his aged, wooden desk chair.
“I got the card you left this morning, and I was meaning to give you a call,” Harvey said. “I’ve just been up to here with work.” He put his hand under his chin as he spoke, to indicate he’d been up to his neck. “So what can I do for you?”
“I wanted to find out how the second autopsy went on Carol Stewart,” Jack said. “I was the one who did the first.”
“So I heard,” Harvey said. “It went fine. No problems at all.”
Jack wondered exactly what he had done but decided not to make an issue of it.
“I haven’t seen the slides yet,” Harvey said. “They are not going to be available until tomorrow or Friday. But I don’t expect any surprises. What exactly did you find on the first autopsy?”
“Extensive lung damage and edema consistent with a cytokine storm,” Jack said. “The heart looked perfectly fine, without any trace of inflammation. However, we did find a mild inflammatory response in the spleen, gallbladder, and both kidneys. Toxicology was negative.”
“Our toxicology is pending,” Harvey said.
“It was a very rapid clinical course,” Jack said. “She essentially died on a subway after having respiratory symptoms for about an hour.”
“So I hear,” Harvey said.
“How long have you been working with the Dover Valley Hospital?” Jack asked.
“About four years as part of my private practice,” Harvey said. “I split my time between here and the Morris County Medical Examiner’s Office.”
“Meaning you must have been around when Carol Stewart got into trouble and acutely needed a transplant.”
“Most definitely,” Harvey said. “That was only a bit more than three months ago.”
“I was told that the donor of the serendipitously well-matched heart had been in a motorcycle accident. Were you involved with that case as a Morris County medical examiner?”
“I most certainly was,” Harvey said.
“Do you recall the name of the victim, by any chance?” Jack asked. “Was his family name Stewart?”
“No, it was Bannon,” Harvey said. “James Bannon. He was a seventeen-year-old teenager, the poor kid.”
