“That doesn’t influence me,” Vinnie said.
“I’m glad to hear that, because you’re right,” Jack said. “It’s estimated that two thirds of those who commit suicide don’t leave a note. If this guy was drunk and depressed, he certainly wouldn’t have searched around for pen and paper. But after doing this autopsy and rereading Janice’s investigative report, do you want to hear what I think happened here?”
“Lay it on me,” Vinnie said.
“I think this poor guy was so inebriated that when he tried to open the garden gate, he just sank relatively straight down, not falling over backward, but just collapsing like his legs became rubbery, and in the process the collar of his shirt caught on the gate latch. It didn’t completely suspend him, but it provided enough pressure to occlude the left carotid and the left jugular. End of story.”
“That means the manner of death was accidental,” Vinnie said.
“That’s going to be my interpretation,” Jack said.
“Dr. Stapleton,” a voice called.
Jack turned to face Sal D’Ambrosio, another mortuary tech.
“Excuse me, Dr. Stapleton,” Sal said. “Sorry to bother you, but I’ve been asked to let you know that Bart Arnold is here and needs to speak with you right away.” He pointed back toward the doors to thehallway. Through the wire-mesh-embedded windows, Jack could just make out Bart’s face, and that he was waving at Jack to come out.
“Why the hell doesn’t he throw on an apron and come in?” Jack questioned. As head of the MLI Department, Bart was a long-term employee who’d been in the autopsy room on multiple occasions.
“I wouldn’t know, Doctor,” Sal said. “But he’s pretty upset about something.”
“Oh, for Chrissake,” Jack muttered. One of his pet peeves was to be disturbed in the middle of an autopsy. At the same time, he knew he’d taken longer doing the current case than usual, trying to draw it out in case there wasn’t going to be another assigned to him. In many ways the autopsy room was Jack’s sanctuary.
He put down the blunt-nosed scissors he’d been using for the neck dissection, told Vinnie to go ahead and remove the skull cap, and headed for the exit door.
“What’s up?” Jack asked when he confronted Bart. Bart was a heavyset man with a mostly bald pate and just a tad of grayish straggly hair that ran around the back of his head from temple to temple. Although normally remarkably calm since he’d seen just about everything in his career as a death investigator for the OCME, he was noticeably agitated.
“Something unexpected and distressing has happened,” Bart said. “One of the NYU residents assigned this month to the OCME is either in the cooler already or on the way in.”
“My God!” Jack murmured. “Which one?”
“The woman,” Bart said in a forced whisper, even though no one else was in earshot.
“Are you talking about Dr. Nichols?” he said with disbelief.
“That’s exactly who I’m talking about,” Bart said with a nod of his head. “The call came in about an hour ago that the victim had overdosed. I mean, talk about this fentanyl-opioid epidemic getting close to home; I’m blown away. This is like one of our own. Anyway,knowing the potential repercussions and all, I handled it myself rather than assigning it to one of my team. I visited the scene and found it a typical overdose with drug paraphernalia out on the coffee table, including the syringe she’d used. My estimate is that she’d been dead eight to ten hours with her algor mortis and her full rigor mortis.”
Jack’s mind switched into overdrive, trying to think of the best way to handle the situation.
“I’ve already called Dr. Montgomery,” Bart added, stumbling over his words.
“That’s unfortunate,” Jack said, immediately thinking that Laurie didn’t need this kind of stress hours before she was scheduled to be admitted for her surgery.
“I didn’t quite know what to do,” Bart confessed. “I know your wife is scheduled for surgery this afternoon but...”
“You could have called George Fontworth,” he said. “He’s the acting chief at the moment.”
“I tried,” Bart said. “He wasn’t immediately available, so I left my name and number. When he didn’t call right back, I thought I should let Laurie know. It seemed like an emergency.”
“Okay, what’s done is done,” Jack said. “What did she say? Should I call her?”
“She told me to speak directly with you, which is why I’m here,” Bart said. “She said you should be the point person and do the autopsy. She also asked me to ask you to call Dr. Henderson, to make sure he knows what’s happened. And she wants you to give Mrs. Donnatello a heads-up so Public Relations can deal with the press.”
“Did she say anything about me getting in touch with her?” Jack asked. For him, that was the key question. If Laurie was distressed or worried about the situation, he needed to call her. If not, he didn’t want to bother her. She surely had enough on her mind.
“I don’t think she expects a call about this,” Bart said. “That was my sense.”
“All right, good,” Jack said. “Is your investigative report already done?”
