“The MEs often use photos, which would be a good idea under the circumstances.”
Madison slapped a hand over her mouth to try to suppress a sudden urge to vomit.
CHAPTER 4
May 8th
2:35P.M.
It was a beautiful spring day with a startlingly blue sky as Laurie walked along First Avenue, heading back to the OCME from the NYU Medical Center complex. Normally she would have enjoyed the short walk just to be outside for a brief time. Unfortunately, on this particular day she was oblivious to her surroundings, her mind in overdrive. The previous three hours had been totally unsettling. Up until then the day had been going well, including her presentation at the City Council’s Health Committee meeting. She had been able to overwhelm them with actual statistics showing how the turnaround time for bodies at the OCME had significantly improved under her watch despite rumors to the contrary. As for the regrettable mix-up of the two Henry Norton bodies, Laurie had been able to say that the OCME IT department had already made changes to the computerized case management system to make such problems much less likely to occur in the future. The only complaint Laurie was not able to completely quash was the concern about closing the morgues in StatenIsland and the Bronx. The fact that significant money was being saved and the quality of the forensics had actually improved fell on deaf ears with the City Council member from the Bronx who sat on the Health Committee. This individual took the closing personally, as if the Bronx was somehow being denied appropriate service, which clearly wasn’t the case.
When she had returned to the OCME, her meeting to consider raising the salaries of the medical-legal investigators also went well. Everyone unanimously agreed a significant salary increase was absolutely necessary for recruitment purposes. To fill vacancies, the OCME had to be competitive with the salaries that certified physician assistants and paramedics could get on the outside. So, when she had rushed over to the NYU Medical Center for her annual breast-cancer screening, she was feeling smug enough to assume the rest of the day would be smooth sailing as well. Unfortunately, that turned out to be disturbingly not the case.
The worst part of the screening from Laurie’s perspective was the mammogram. Each year she wondered if she was being injured in the mildly painful process of having her breasts forcibly squeezed between two firm, unforgiving surfaces, and today was no exception. The experience was as uncomfortable as usual, but at least when the ordeal was over, there wasn’t any bad news.
As chief medical examiner, Laurie held a position of Associate Professor of Pathology at NYU Medical School and Head of the NYU Department of Forensic Pathology. Consequently, she was recognized as a VIP and treated as such, meaning the Radiology Department was aware of her presence. Today, like her previous sessions, one of the ranking radiologists was present to read the digital images as they were produced. He even went over them with Laurie, who was rather adept at reading them herself.
The next part of the screening process was the MRI, which she found to be much easier than the mammogram because she wasn’tclaustrophobic and didn’t mind lying prone within the narrow tube-like opening in the massive machine. Usually she was even able to relax during the procedure, and today was no exception.
It was after the test that her day had gone drastically south. Another ranking radiologist came in and looked at the slices. Unfortunately, the MRI picked up a problematic lesion that the screening mammogram missed, requiring a second diagnostic mammogram that was even more uncomfortable. This test, too, confirmed a disturbing abnormality, meaning the MRI finding was not artifact.
Laurie entered the OCME building in a kind of daze as her mind struggled to put in perspective what she had just learned over in the NYU Medical Center, and its implications. Marlene Wilson buzzed her into the building. She could tell the woman wanted to chat, but Laurie was in no mood for small talk. Instead she made a beeline into the head office area. She even passed Cheryl Sanford without stopping, which was certainly abnormal as Laurie was a gregarious person sensitive to other people’s feelings.
Once inside her office, she hung up her coat before sitting down at her desk. With unseeing eyes, she merely stared ahead. The problem was simple. She didn’t have the time to have a medical issue foisted on her, especially one of this type of potential consequence. She had a thousand employees at the OCME to worry about, and two children, one with a diagnosis of autism and the other with a newly announced potential behavioral problem at school.
A furtive knock followed by her door opening brought Laurie’s attention back to the present. Cheryl was standing in the doorway, note in hand.
“Are you okay?” Cheryl asked, clearly concerned.
“I’ve been better,” Laurie said. She didn’t elaborate.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Not at the moment,” Laurie said. “I need some time by myself.”
“I understand,” Cheryl said. “Detective Lou Soldano called. Heasked you to call him back as soon as you can. He said he tried to call Dr. Stapleton, but he was in the morgue. The detective seemed upset.” Cheryl stepped over to Laurie’s desk and put a yellow Post-it Note on the corner. She then quietly left.
Laurie pulled the note up off the desk and looked at the number. She could tell it was Lou’s mobile, which meant he was out on a case, possibly at a scene. As he was a dear friend and an extraordinarily committed Homicide detective who truly valued the contribution of forensic pathology, Laurie felt an irresistible urge to call him back despite her mental turmoil. Since there was a chance the call might have a personal aspect, she used her mobile. Lou answered immediately.
“Thanks for calling, Laur,” he said straight off.Laurwas a name one of Lou’s children gave her way back when Lou and Laurie had first met. “I’m over here at the Manhattan General ED with one of my detectives who managed to get himself shot. It’s not a life-threatening injury but bad enough. By accident I happened to become aware of one of those cases that makes you sick.”
“Can you give me a bit more background?” she asked. There was little or no inflection in her voice, and she hoped Lou wouldn’t notice or question. She was trying her best under the circumstances to sound normal.
“Sure,” Lou said. “It’s a two-and-a-half-year-old Latina girl named Camila Ruiz, who supposedly fell into a hot tub and scalded herself. It reminded me of a case I had years ago, which I hope doesn’t repeat itself, because it gave me nightmares for years.”
“Is this child dead?”
“I wouldn’t be calling you guys if she wasn’t. I was hoping that Jack could look into it. I mean, this should be a medical examiner case, right?”
“Certainly, as an accident it’s a medical examiner case.”
“All right, that’s good to hear,” he said. “The kid was brought in bythe mom’s boyfriend, which is exactly what happened in the case I mentioned years ago. It turned out in that case it was no fucking accident. Pardon my French. Anyway, this case needs a good look as it’s keying off my sixth sense that all is not right in never-never land.”
“I’ll let Jack know,” Laurie said. After a few more pleasantries, she disconnected. Then she called Bart Arnold to make sure Camila Ruiz would be posted and asked him to let Jack know when the child arrived.
With that small, sad dose of reality, she felt a bit less paralyzed and began to make some preliminary plans with how she would emotionally adjust to the positive breast-cancer screening result. Obviously, a positive screen didn’t necessarily mean she had breast cancer. It just meant that something had to be done to determine whether she did, and as far as she was concerned, it needed to be done immediately, the sooner, the better. But she didn’t get far with this line of thinking. Within minutes there was another quiet knock on her office door, followed by Cheryl reappearing. Cheryl never liked using the intercom.
“I hate to bother you again, Dr. Montgomery,” she said. “But Dr. Carl Henderson is on line one, and he says it’s urgent.”
