“It looks like a Hollywood set for a horror movie,” Lou said. “Whoever picked out these blue tiles for the walls? And what about the cement floor? Why isn’t there any covering? Look at all the stains.”
Laurie stopped and gazed at the floor. Although the surface was swept clean, the stains were unspeakable. “It was supposed to be tiled long ago,” she said. “Somehow it got fouled up in New York City bureaucratic red tape. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”
“And what are all those coffins doing here?” Lou asked. “That’s a nice touch.” He pointed to a stack of simple pine boxes piled almost to the ceiling. Others were standing on end.
“Those are Potter’s Field coffins,” Laurie said. “There are a lot of unidentified bodies in New York City. After their autopsies we keep them in the cooler for a number of weeks. If they go unclaimed, they are eventually buried at city’s expense.”
“Isn’t there someplace else they could store the coffins?” Lou asked. “It looks like a garage sale.”
“Not that I know of,” Laurie said. “I guess I’ve never thought about it. I’m so used to seeing them there.”
Laurie pushed into the autopsy room first, then held the door for Lou. In contrast to the previous morning, all eight tables were now occupied by corpses, each with a tag tied around its big toe. At five of the tables the posts were already under way.
“Well, well, Dr. Montgomery is starting before noon,” one of the gowned and hooded doctors quipped.
“Some of us are smart enough to test the water before we jump in the pool,” Laurie shot back.
“You’re on table six,” one of the mortuary techs called out from a sink where he was washing out a length of intestine.
Laurie looked back at Lou, who had paused just inside the door. She saw him swallow hard. Although he’d said he’d seen autopsies before, she had the feeling that he found this “assembly line” operation a bit overwhelming. With the gut being washed out, the smell wasn’t too good either.
“You can go outside anytime,” Laurie said to him.
Lou held up a hand. “I’m all right,” he said. “If you can take this, I can too.”
Laurie walked down to table six. Lou followed her. A gowned and hooded Vinnie Amendola appeared.
“It’s you and me today, Dr. Montgomery,” Vinnie said.
“Fine,” Laurie said. “Why don’t you get everything we’ll need and we’ll get started.”
Vinnie nodded, then went over to the supply cabinets.
Laurie put out her note papers where she could get to them, then looked at Duncan Andrews. “Handsome-looking man,” she said.
“I didn’t think doctors thought that way,” Lou said. “I thought you guys all switched into neutral or something.”
“Hardly,” Laurie said. Duncan’s pale body lay in apparent repose on the steel table. His eyelids were closed. The only thing that marred his appearance aside from his pasty white color were the excoriations on his forearms. Laurie pointed to them. “Those deep scratches are probably the result of what’s called formication. That’s a tactile hallucination of bugs under or on the skin. It’s seen in both cocaine and amphetamine intoxication.”
Lou shook his head. “I can’t understand why people take drugs,” he said. “It’s beyond me.”
“They do it for pleasure,” Laurie said. “Unfortunately, drugs like cocaine tap into parts of the brain that developed during evolution as the reward center. It was to encourage behavior likely to perpetuate the species. If the war against drugs is to succeed, the fact that drugs can be pleasurable has to be admitted and not ignored.”
“Why do I have the feeling you don’t think much of the Just Say No campaign?” Lou asked.
“Because I don’t. It’s stupid,” Laurie said. “Or at least shortsighted. I don’t think the politicians who dreamed that scheme up have a clue to what growing up in today’s society is like, especially for poor urban kids. Drugs are around, and when kids try them and find out that drugs are pleasurable, they think the powers-that-be are lying about the negative or dangerous side as well.”
“You ever try any of that stuff?”