“Dr. Ted Markham thought it might have been a Stewart, to explain why there was such a close match. But you are sure it was Bannon?”
“I’m absolutely sure. Maybe he was related to the Stewarts. There was a lot of inbreeding around here not that many years ago. Actually, it’s still going on. Besides, he could have been adopted.”
“Did you personally do the autopsy on James Bannon?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m curious about it and have some general questions,” Jack said. “There are some things about the Carol Stewart case that intrigue me, including the source of the transplant organ.”
“You know, not to be unfriendly, but I do want to remind you that you are in New Jersey, not New York. Maybe you should be asking your questions through the official channels.”
“Yeah, I could do that, but you know what that’s like,” Jack said, trying to appeal to his sympathies as one ME to another. “As I’m sure youare aware, going through official channels takes forever, and I have to sign this case out in the next day or so.”
“An autopsy wasn’t done,” Harvey said in a defensively forceful tone.
“Really?” Jack questioned. He was taken aback and disappointed. “In New York we autopsy all motor vehicle accidents.”
“Generally, so do we,” Harvey said. “But this one happened on a very busy weekend with multiple accidents and a double homicide, which is very rare for us. But the most important thing was that there wasn’t any question as to the cause and manner of death. With no helmet involved, most of his brain had to be scooped up off Interstate Eighty. And then there was cardiac death after the ventilator was turned off in the hospital in conjunction with the harvesting of the heart. No mystery there, either.”
“This all happened at the Dover Valley Hospital, I gather,” Jack said.
“That’s correct,” Harvey said, regaining his composure. “It’s the best-equipped hospital in the area. And the hospital did all the tests for alcohol and drugs, all of which were negative. It was one of those situations where an autopsy would not have added anything whatsoever and the family seriously objected to it. They were very vocal about it.”
“Interesting,” Jack said, falling back on his new favorite expression.
“I hope I have been of some service, but I do have to get back to work. If you’ll excuse me...” Harvey stood and walked over to the flimsy door. He opened it and held it ajar as an unmistakable indication the meeting was over.
“Certainly,” Jack said, getting to his feet and heading to the outer office. “I can imagine how swamped you are.” As soon as the comment left his mouth, he regretted it. There was no reason to aggravate the man.
Harvey immediately shut his office door with demonstrative finality as soon as Jack had passed through. For a moment Jack stood where he was and looked back at the door questioningly, wondering why he’d gotten the bum’s rush. He shrugged. Turning around, he gazed at the secretary. The room was small. She was only about four feet away, looking up at him expectantly.
“I was just chatting with Dr. Lauder about a case of his by the name of James Bannon,” Jack said. “It was a Morris County Medical Examiner case that wasn’t autopsied. Would you have the individual’s home address?”
“I believe we do,” the secretary said. Making use of the wheels on her desk chair, she scooted the few feet over to an upright file cabinet and pulled open the lowest file drawer. Jack wondered why she didn’t use the monitor on her desk. As she searched, Jack could hear Harvey making a phone call through the paper-thin door of the inner office behind him. The sounds were muffled, but Jack plainly heard two names: his own and Dr. Wei Zhao’s. He strained to hear what Harvey was saying but couldn’t. The only other thing he managed to hear was a third name: James Bannon. Then he heard the phone being dropped into its cradle.
“Yes, here’s the Bannon folder,” the secretary said, pulling it out from the drawer. She opened it and then added: “The address is Five-ninety-one Spring Lane, Rockaway. Do you want me to write that down?”
“I think I can remember it,” Jack said, tapping his head with his index finger. He thanked her and walked out of the office into the now sunny day.
After climbing into the car, Jack thought for several minutes what it could mean that the moment he’d left Harvey’s inner office the man had called Wei Zhao, of all people. It was yet another curious fact that he added to the mountain of other facts he was amassing about the weirdness of the Carol Stewart case. He couldn’t help but feel it suggested collusion, but collusion about what, he had no idea.
Although Jack was concerned about getting back to the OCME now that it was two, especially with Laurie’s less-than-happy voicemail, he thought it would be a shame not to make one more house call while he was in New Jersey—especially since Google Maps informed him that Rockaway was only four miles away. He had hoped to get a copy of the autopsy report on the motorcycle victim who’d been the source of the heart for Carol Stewart. But now that he’d learned there had been noautopsy, he thought a visit with the family might be in order. There was something about this case, too, that nagged him, even though he didn’t know quite what it was. At the same time, he wasn’t looking forward to visiting the bereaved family. If they had not heard the news about Carol Stewart, Jack feared they’d be heartbroken anew to learn that their son’s heart was no longer beating in the chest of the young woman. Jack understood that donating the heart certainly didn’t bring their son back, but it must have been a source of some comfort.
Jack was about to put the Escalade in gear when his phone rang. Within the confines of the SUV the sound shocked him, and he answered in a mild panic without checking to see who was calling. That was a mistake. It was Laurie.
“Where in God’s name are you?” she snapped. “No one has seen you all morning. And I didn’t appreciate your sneaking out of our apartment this morning for the second day in a row. My father was clearly disappointed not to see you.”
“I was heartsick not to see him, too, but duty called,” Jack said, being intentionally provocative.
“I’m not going to respond to that,” Laurie said.
“How has your day been?” Jack asked, to change the subject.
“To be honest, it’s been a terrible day. I’m fed up with the City Council and all the politics involved. I’m getting nowhere on this budget problem.”
“But you knew about the politics when you accepted the job,” Jack said.
“To some degree, but I never thought it would be this frustrating. That aside, where the devil are you? Are you out in the field potentially causing trouble when I asked you not to?”
