With mounting dread he pulled the door the rest of the way open. What he saw was far worse than he could have imagined. Inside the cooler, bodies were strewn helter-skelter. Two gurneys were tipped on their sides. Several of the sheets covering the bodies had been pulled aside. Even after a few days’ experience in the autopsy room, he still didn’t have the stomach for this. And whatever had happened to Laurie, this body-strewn battleground was hardly an auspicious sign.
Lou spotted a purse among the wreckage. Pushing gurneys aside, he picked it up to check for ID. He snapped open the wallet. The first thing he saw was Laurie’s photo on her driver’s license.
As he rushed from the cooler, Lou’s concern turned to fear, especially if his current theory about all the gangland-style murders was correct. Frantically he looked for someone, anyone. There was always someone available at the morgue. Seeing the light in the main autopsy room, he ran down to it and pushed open the doors, but no one was there either.
Turning around, Lou dashed back to the security office to use the phone. Entering the room, he immediately saw the guard’s body on the floor. He knelt down and rolled the man over. The man’s unseeing eyes stared up at him. There was a bullet hole in his forehead. Lou checked for a pulse, but there wasn’t any. The man was dead.
Standing up, Lou snatched up the phone and dialed 911. As soon as an operator answered he identified himself as Lieutenant Lou Soldano and requested a homicide unit for the city morgue. He added that the victim was in the security office but that he would not be able to wait for the unit to arrive.
Slamming the phone down, Lou raced to the morgue loading dock and jumped into his car. Starting the engine, he backed up with a screech of his tires, leaving two lines of rubber on the morgue’s driveway. He had no other choice than to head directly for Paul Cerino’s. It was cards-on-the-table time. He slapped his emergency light on the car’s roof and arrived at Cerino’s Queens address after twenty-three minutes of hair-raising driving.
Racing up the front steps of the Cerino home, he reached into his shoulder holster and unsnapped the leather band securing his.38 Smith and Wesson Detective Special. He rang the bell impatiently. Judging by all the lights blazing, someone had to be home.
Lou knew that he was operating on a hunch that depended on his theory about the gangland slayings being correct. But at the moment it was all he had, and his intuition told him that time was of the utmost importance.
An overhead light came on above Lou’s head. Then he had the feeling that someone was looking at him through the peephole. Finally the door opened. Gloria was standing there dressed in one of her plain housedresses.
“Lou!” Gloria said pleasantly. “What brings you here?”
Lou shoved past her and into the house. “Where’s Paul?” he demanded. He looked into the living room, where Gregory and Steven were watching TV.
“What’s the matter?” Gloria asked.
“I have to talk with Paul. Where is he?”
“He’s not here,” Gloria said. “Is there something wrong?”
“Something’s very wrong,” Lou said. “Do you know where Paul is?”
“I’m not positive,” Gloria said. “But I heard him on the phone with Dr. Travino. I think he said something about going down to the company.”
“You mean at the pier?” Lou asked.
Gloria nodded. “Is he in danger?” Gloria asked. Lou’s distress was infectious.
Lou was already half out the door. Calling over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll take care of it.”
Back in his car, Lou started the engine and made a sweeping U-turn in the middle of the street. As he accelerated he caught sight of Gloria standing on her stoop, anxiously clutching her hands to her chest.
Laurie’s first sensation was nausea, but she didn’t vomit, although she retched. She woke up in stages, becoming progressively aware of movement and uncomfortable bumps and jostling. She also became aware of dizziness, as if she were spinning, and a terrible sense of air hunger, as if she were smothering.