Chromosome 6 by Robin Cook. Chapter 7, 8, 9

written from a sarcastic, mocking point of view. It cast equal aspersion

on the police department and the medical examiner’s office. It said the

whole sordid affair was just another glowing example of the gross

incompetence of both organizations.

Laurie breezed into the room and interrupted Jack. As she removed her

coat, she told him that she hoped he felt better than she.

‘Probably not,’ Jack admitted. ‘It was that cheap wine I brought over.

I’m sorry.’

‘It was also the five hours of sleep,’ Laurie said. ‘I had a terrible

time hauling myself out of bed.’ She put her coat down on a chair. ‘Good

morning, Vinnie,’ she called out.

Vinnie stayed silent behind his sports page.

‘He’s pouting because I violated his paper,’ Jack said. Jack got up so

Laurie could sit down at the scheduling desk. It was Laurie’s week to

divvy up the cases for autopsy among the staff. ‘The headlines and cover

story are about the Franconi incident.’

‘I wouldn’t wonder,’ Laurie said. ‘It was all over the local news, and I

heard it announced that Bingham will be on Good Morning America to

attempt damage control.’

‘He’s got his hands full,’ Jack said.

‘Have you looked at today’s cases?’ Laurie asked, as she started

glancing through the twenty or so folders.

‘I just got here myself,’ Jack admitted. He continued reading the

article.

‘Oh, this is good!’ Jack commented after a moment’s silence. ‘They’re

alleging that there is some kind of conspiracy between us and the police

department. They suggest we might have deliberately disposed of the body

for their benefit. Can you imagine! These media people are so paranoid

that they see conspiracy in everything!’

‘It’s the public who is paranoid,’ Laurie said. ‘The media likes to give

them what they want. But that kind of wild theory is exactly why I’m

going to find out how that body disappeared. The public has to know we

are impartial.’

‘I was hoping you’d have a change of heart and given up on that quest

after a night’s sleep,’ Jack mumbled while continuing to read.

‘Not a chance,’ Laurie said.

‘This is crazy!’ Jack said, slapping the page of newsprint. ‘First they

suggest we here at the ME office were responsible for the body

disappearing, and now they say the mob undoubtedly buried the remains in

the wilds of Westchester so they will never be found.’

‘The last part is probably correct,’ Laurie said. ‘Unless the body turns

up in the spring thaw. With the frost it’s hard to dig more than a foot

below the surface.’

‘Gads, what trash!’ Jack commented as he finished the article. ‘Here,

you want to read it?’ He offered the front pages of the paper to Laurie.

Laurie waved them off. ‘Thanks, but I already read the version in the

Times,’ she said. ‘It was caustic enough. I don’t need the New York

Post’s point of view.’

Jack went back over to Vinnie and quipped that he was willing to return

his paper to its virginal state. Vinnie took the pages without comment.

‘You are awfully sensitive today,’ Jack said to the tech.

‘Just leave me alone,’ Vinnie snapped.

‘Whoa, watch out, Laurie!’ Jack said. ‘I think Vinnie has pre-mental

tension. He’s probably planning on doing some thinking and it’s got his

hormones all out of whack.’

‘Uh-oh!’ Laurie called out. ‘Here’s that floater that Mike Passano

mentioned last night. Who should I assign it to? Trouble is I don’t

think I’m mad at anyone and to forestall guilt I’ll probably end up

doing it myself.’

‘Give it to me,’ Jack said.

‘You don’t care?’ Laurie asked. She hated floaters, especially those

which had been in the water for a long time. Such autopsies were

unpleasant and often difficult jobs.

‘Nah,’ Jack said. ‘Once you get past the smell, you got it licked.’

‘Please!’ Laurie murmured. ‘That’s disgusting.’

‘Seriously,’ Jack said. ‘They can be a challenge. I like them better

than gunshot wounds.’

‘This one is both,’ Laurie commented, as she put Jack down for the

floater.

‘How delightful!’ Jack commented. He walked back to the scheduling desk

and looked over Laurie’s shoulder.

‘There’s a presumptive, close range shotgun blast to the upper-right

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