Whispers of the Dead - Страница 33

‘You want to see somethin’ dead, take a good look! Nothin’ special about it, is there? Comes to us all, whether we want it or not. You as well. Take a good long look, ‘cause this is what it all comes down to. We’re all just dead meat in the end.’

The memory of that visit gave you nightmares for years. You’d catch sight of your hand, see the bones and tendons covered by a thin layer of skin, and you’d break out in a clammy sweat. You’d look at the people around you and see those rows of pale bodies again. Sometimes you’d see your reflection in the bathroom mirror and imagine yourself as one of them.

Dead meat.

You’d grown up haunted by that knowledge. Then, when you were seventeen, you’d stared into a dying woman’s eyes as the life—the light—went out of them.

And you’d realized that you were more than meat after all.

It had been a revelation, but over the years it had become harder to sustain your belief. You’d set out to prove it, but each disappointment had only undermined it more. And after all the work and planning, after all the risks, tonight’s failure was almost too much to take.

Wiping your eyes, you go to the kitchen table where the Leica is partially disassembled. You’d started to clean it, but even that pleasure has turned to ashes. You slump down on to the chair and consider the pieces. Lethargically, you pick up the lens and turn it in your hand.

The idea comes from nowhere.

A sense of excitement starts to grow as it takes shape. How could you have overlooked something so obvious? It was there, staring you in the face all along! You should never have let yourself forget that you have a higher purpose. You’d lost sight of what was really important, let yourself become distracted. Lieberman was a dead end, but a necessary one.

Because if not for that you mightn’t have realized what a rare opportunity you’ve been given.

You feel strong and powerful again as you contemplate what has to be done. This is it, you can feel it. Everything you’ve worked for, all the disappointment you’ve endured, it was all for a reason. Fate had dropped a dying woman at your feet, and now fate’s intervened again.

Whistling tunelessly to yourself, you start to strip off the uniform. You’ve been wearing it all night. There’s no time to take it to the laundry, but you can sponge it down and press it.

You’re going to need it looking its best.

CHAPTER 14

THE OVERWEIGHT RECEPTIONIST was on duty at the morgue when I arrived. ‘You heard ’bout Dr Lieberman?’ he asked. The singsong voice was cruelly mismatched to his huge frame. He looked disappointed when I said I had, tutting and shaking his head so that his chins quivered like jelly. ‘It’s a real shame. Hope he’s OK.’ I just nodded as I swiped my card and went inside.

I didn’t bother to change into scrubs. I didn’t know if I’d be staying or not.

Paul was in the autopsy suite where Tom had been working. He was poring over the contents of an open folder on the workbench, but glanced up when I entered.

‘How was he?’

‘About the same.’

He gestured at the papers in the folder. The bright fluorescent lighting showed up the dark shadows under his eyes, making his tiredness more evident. ‘I was going through Tom’s notes. I know some of the background, but it’d help if you could bring me up to speed.’

Paul listened silently as I told him how the body discovered at the cemetery seemed almost certain to be Willis Dexter’s, and how the remains exhumed from Dexter’s grave seemed likely to belong to a petty thief called Noah Harper. I described the pink teeth we’d found on both Harper’s remains and those of Terry Loomis, the victim in the mountain cabin, and how they appeared to contradict the blood loss and wounds on the latter’s body. When I told him that the hyoid bones of both victims were intact, and so far there were no signs of knife cuts to the bones themselves, he gave a tired grin.

‘It’s either or. Cause of death could be strangulation or stabbing, but not both. We’ll just have to hope we find definitive evidence for one or the other.’ He looked down at the folder for a moment, then seemed to rouse himself. ‘So, are you OK to carry on?’

It had been what I’d been hoping to hear earlier, but circumstances robbed the moment of any satisfaction. ‘Yes, but I don’t want to cause any more friction. Wouldn’t it be better if someone else took over?’

Paul closed the folder. ‘I’m not asking you to be polite. With Tom in hospital the faculty’s going to be pretty stretched. I’ll do what I can here, but the next few days are going to be hectic. Frankly, we could use the help, and it seems stupid not to use you when you’ve been involved from the start.’

‘What about Gardner?’

‘It’s not his decision. This is a morgue, not a crime scene. If he wants our help I’ve made it clear that he can either trust our judgement or find someone else. And he isn’t about to do that, not now he’s lost Tom so soon after Irving was snatched on his watch.’

I felt a touch of guilt at the reminder. What with Tom’s heart attack, I’d almost forgotten about the profiler.

‘And what about Hicks?’ I asked.

Paul’s expression hardened. ‘Hicks can go to hell.’

It was obvious he was in no mood to make concessions. The pathologist and Gardner would find him very different to work with from Tom, I thought.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘Shall I carry on reassembling the exhumed remains?’

‘Leave them for now. Gardner wants to confirm whether or not the bones from the woods are Willis Dexter’s. Summer’s made a start on unpacking them, so that’s our priority for the moment.’

I turned to go, but then remembered what I wanted to ask. ‘Mary said Tom tried to tell her something earlier. She said it sounded like “Spanish”. Does that mean anything to you?’

‘Spanish?’ Paul looked blank. ‘Doesn’t ring any bells.’

I went to get changed after that. Paul had to go to an emergency faculty meeting, but said he’d be back as soon as he could. Summer was already in the autopsy suite where the remains from Steeple Hill had been taken, unpacking the last of the evidence bags from their boxes.

Somehow I wasn’t surprised to find Kyle helping her.

Engrossed in their conversation, neither of them heard me enter. ‘Hi,’ I said.

Summer gave a cry and spun round, almost dropping the bag she’d just picked up. ‘Omigod!’ she gasped, sagging with relief when she saw it was me.

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.’

She managed a shaky smile. Her face looked tearstained and blotchy under the bleached hair.

‘That’s OK. I didn’t hear you. Kyle was just lending a hand.’

The morgue assistant looked embarrassed but pleased with himself.

‘How’s it going, Kyle?’

‘Oh, pretty good.’ He waggled his gloved hand, the one he’d spiked on the needle. ‘Healed up nicely.’

If the needle had been infected it wouldn’t matter whether the wound was healed or not. But he’d be well enough aware of that himself. If he wanted to put on a brave face then I’d no intention of spoiling it.

‘Summer was telling me about Dr Lieberman,’ he said. ‘How is he?’

‘He’s stable.’ It sounded better than saying there was no change.

Summer looked as though she might cry. ‘I wish I could have done more.’

‘You did great,’ Kyle assured her, his round face earnest. ‘I’m sure he’s going to be OK.’

Summer gave him a tremulous smile. He returned it, then remembered I was still there.

‘Well, uh, I suppose I ought to get on. See you later, Summer.’

Her smile grew more dimpled. ‘Bye, Kyle.’

Well, well. Perhaps something good might come out of this after all.

After he’d gone Summer seemed listless, without her usual exuberance as we finished unpacking the remains.

‘Kyle’s right. It’s lucky you were here last night,’ I told her.

The overhead lights glinted on her piercings as she shook her head. ‘I didn’t do anything. I feel like I should have done something more. CPR, or something.’

‘You got him to hospital in time. That’s the main thing.’

‘I hope so. He seemed fine, you know? A little tired, perhaps, but that’s all. He joked about buying me pizza to make up for keeping me late.’ The ghost of a smile flickered across her face. ‘When it got to ten o’clock he told me to go home. He said he wanted to check something before he left himself.’

I felt my curiosity stir. ‘Did he say what?’

‘No, but I guessed it was something to do with the remains from the cabin. I went to change and was on my way out when I heard his cell phone ring. You know that corny old ringtone he has?’

Tom would have had a few choice words to say at hearing Dave Brubeck’s ‘Take Five’ described as ‘corny’. But I just nodded.

‘I didn’t take much notice, but then there was this sudden crash from the autopsy suite. I ran in and found him on the floor.’ She gave a sniff and quickly wiped her eyes. ‘I dialled 911 and then held his hand and talked to him until the paramedics arrived. Telling him he was going to be all right, you know? I’m not sure he could hear me, but that’s what you’re supposed to do, isn’t it?’

‘You did well,’ I reassured her. ‘Was he conscious?’

‘Not really, but he wasn’t completely out. He kept saying his wife’s name, like he was worried about her. I thought perhaps he didn’t want her to be upset when she found out, so I told him I’d call her. I thought it might be better coming from me than the hospital.’