“I’ve tried pot and cocaine.”
“Really?”
“Are you surprised?” Laurie asked.
“I suppose I am, to an extent.”
“Why?”
Lou shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose you don’t look the type.”
Laurie laughed. “I guess he looks more the type than I do right now,” she said, pointing to Andrews. “But when he was alive I bet he didn’t look the type either. Yeah, I tried some drugs in college. Despite what happened to my brother, or maybe because of it.”
“What happened to your brother?” Lou asked.
Laurie looked down at the body of Duncan Andrews. She’d not meant to bring her brother into the conversation. The comment had slipped out as if she were talking with someone with whom she was close.
“Did your brother overdose?” Lou asked.
Laurie’s eyes went from Duncan’s corpse to Lou. She couldn’t lie. “Yes,” she said. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine,” Lou said. “I don’t mean to pry.”
Laurie turned back to Duncan’s body. For a second she was immobilized by the thought it was her brother’s body before her on that cold table. She was relieved to be interrupted by Vinnie returning with gloves, specimen bottles, preservatives, labels, and a series of instruments. She was eager to get started and put these reveries behind her.
“Let’s do it,” Vinnie said. He began applying the labels to the specimen jars.
Laurie opened the gloves and put them on. She put on her goggles and began a careful exterior examination of Duncan Andrews. After looking at Duncan’s head, she motioned for Lou to step around to the other side of the table. Parting Duncan’s hair with her gloved hand, she showed Lou multiple bruises.
“I’ll bet he had at least one convulsion,” Laurie said. “Let’s look at the tongue.”
Laurie opened Duncan’s mouth. The tongue was lacerated in several locations. “Just what I expected,” she said. “Now let’s see how much cocaine this fellow has been using.” With a small flashlight and a nasal speculum, she looked up Duncan’s nose. “No perforations. Looks normal. Guess he hadn’t been sniffing much.”
Laurie straightened up. She noticed Lou’s attention had been directed at a neighboring table where they were busy sawing off the top of a skull. Their eyes met.
“You okay?” Laurie questioned.
“I’m not sure,” Lou said. “You actually do this every day?”
“On average, three or four days a week,” Laurie said. “You want to go outside for a while? I can let you know when we do DePasquale.”
“No, I’ll be all right. Let’s get on with it. What’s next?”
“I usually check the eyes,” Laurie said. She studied Lou. The last thing she wanted was for him to pass out and hit his head on the concrete floor. That had happened to a visitor once before.
“Continue,” Lou urged. “I’m fine.”
Laurie shrugged. Then she put her thumb and index finger on Duncan’s eyelids and drew them up.
Lou gasped and turned away.
For a moment even Laurie was taken aback. The eyes were gone! The pulpy red sockets were filled with pink-stained wads of gauze. It gave the corpse a ghastly appearance.
“Okay!” Lou said. “You got me. You set me up and you got me. I’ll have to give you that.” He turned back to Laurie. The bit of facial skin visible between his mask and his hood was blanched. “Let me guess: this was some sort of initiation ordeal for the rookie.”
Laurie let out a short, nervous laugh. “I’m sorry, Lou,” she said. “I’d forgotten the eyes had been taken. Truly. This was the case where the family was insistent that the deceased’s wishes to be an organ donor be honored. If the eyes can be harvested within twelve hours, they often can be used if there are no other contraindications. Occasionally it can even be longer than twelve hours if the body is chilled.”
“I don’t mind being the butt of a joke,” Lou said.
“But it wasn’t a joke,” Laurie insisted. “I’m sorry. Honest. I’d been called on this case yesterday. With everything else that’s happened, I’d forgotten. I just remembered this was a case where the victim took the cocaine IV. Let’s see if we can find the injection site.”