“I have plans,” Laurie said.
“Of course,” Lou said. “How silly of me to think you might be available. I suppose it is Dr. Roses again. But don’t tell me. What’s left of my ego couldn’t take it. With his limo and all, he’s probably taking you to those places where I couldn’t afford to check my coat. Like I said yesterday, let me know if your lab decides to do any of the tests that might show anything. Ciao!”
With that, Lou got up and left the room. Laurie was happy to see him go. He could be so irritating. If he wanted to take personally her turning him down for that evening, he was welcome to. What did he expect her to do? Drop everything?
She was about to call Internal Affairs as Lou had facetiously suggested, but before she could pick up the receiver, the phone rang. It was Jordan returning her call.
“I hope you didn’t call to cancel for tonight,” he said.
“Nothing like that,” Laurie said. “It’s about your secretary, Marsha Schulman.”
“You mean my former secretary,” Jordan said. “She didn’t show up or call this morning either, so I’m in the process of replacing her. I already have a temp.”
“I’m afraid she’s dead,” Laurie said.
“Oh, no!” Jordan said. “Are you serious?”
Laurie explained how she had made the identification of the headless corpse with the chest X-ray, and the fact of the two surgeries.
“The forensic medical investigators are following up to make the identification even more certain,” Laurie said, “but with what we have already, I think we can be quite confident.”
“I wonder if that bastard husband was involved,” Jordan wondered aloud.
“I’m sure the police will be looking into the possibility,” Laurie said. “Anyway, I thought you should know.”
“I’m not sure I want to know,” Jordan said. “What horrible news.”
“Sorry to be the bearer of sad tidings,” Laurie said.
“It’s not your fault,” Jordan said. “And I had to be told. Anyway, I’ll still see you at eight.”
“Eight it is.”
Laurie hung up and dialed Internal Affairs. She spoke to a disinterested secretary who took down the details of her story, promising to pass them along to her boss.
Laurie sat at her desk to compose her thoughts before returning to the autopsy room for her last case. She was beginning to feel overwhelmed. It felt as if every aspect of her life—personal, professional, ethical—was spinning out of control.
“I’m Lieutenant Lou Soldano,” Lou said politely. He passed his credentials to the bright-eyed secretary at the reception desk.
“Homicide?” she asked.
“That’s right,” Lou said. “I’d like to speak with the doctor. I only need a few minutes of his time.”
“If you’ll have a seat in the waiting room, I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Lou sat down and idly flipped through a recent edition of The New Yorker. He noticed the drawings on the walls, especially one that was blatantly pornographic. He wondered if someone had actually chosen them or if they had come with the office. Either way, thought Lou, there was no accounting for some people’s taste.
Other than the drawings, Lou was impressed with the waiting room. The walls were paneled with mahogany. A tasteful, inch-thick oriental carpet covered the floor. But then Lou already knew the good doctor did quite well for himself.
Lou looked at the faces of the patients who paid for this opulence, plus the limo and the roses. There were about ten in the waiting room, some with eyepatches, some who looked totally healthy, including one middle-aged woman draped in jewels. Lou would have loved to ask her what she was there for, just to get an idea, but he didn’t dare.
Time passed slowly as one by one the patients disappeared into the depths of the office. Lou tried to contain his impatience, but after three-quarters of an hour, he began to get irritated. He began to think it was a deliberate snub on Jordan Scheffield’s part. Although Lou didn’t have an appointment, he’d expected to be seen relatively quickly, perhaps to schedule a future visit if it were needed. It wasn’t every day a detective lieutenant from Homicide dropped by someone’s office. Besides, Lou hadn’t planned on taking much of the doctor’s time.