In pathology, a busy place at that time of day, Marissa was directed to the autopsy rooms, where she knew she’d find Dr. Rand. Remembering his pompous, overbearing manner, she was not looking forward to talking with him.
The autopsy rooms were constructed of white tile and gleaming stainless steel. There was a pervading aroma of formalin that made Marissa’s eyes water. One of the technicians told her that Zabriski’s post was scheduled for room three. “If you intend to go, you have to suit up. It’s a dirty case.”
With her general fear of catching Ebola, Marissa was more than happy to comply. When she entered the room, she found Dr. Rand just about to begin. He looked up from the table of horrific tools. Dr.
Zabriski’s body was still enclosed in a large, clear plastic bag. His body was a pasty white on the top, a livid purple on the bottom.
“Hi!” said Marissa brightly. She decided that she might as well be cheerful. Receiving no answer, she conveyed the CDC’s requests to the pathologist, who agreed to supply the samples. Marissa then suggested the use of goggles. “A number of cases both here and in L.A. were apparently infected through the conjunctival membrane,” she explained.
Dr. Rand grunted, then disappeared. When he returned he was wearing a pair of plastic goggles. Without saying anything he handed a pair to Marissa.
“One other thing,” Marissa added. “The CDC recommends avoiding power saws on this kind of case because they cause significant aerosol formation.”
“I was not planning to use any power tools,” said Dr. Rand. “Although you may find this surprising, I have handled infectious cases during my career.”
“Then I suppose I don’t have to warn you about not cutting your fingers,” said Marissa. “A pathologist died of viral hemorrhagic fever after doing just that.”
“I recall,” said Dr. Rand. “Lassa Fever. Are you about to favor us with any further suggestions?”
“No,” said Marissa. The pathologist cut into the plastic bag and exposed Zabriski’s body to the air. Marissa debated whether she should go or stay. Indecision resulted in inaction; she stayed.
Speaking into an overhead microphone activated by a foot pedal, Dr. Rand began his description of the external markings of the body. His voice had assumed that peculiar monotone Marissa remembered from her medical school days. She was startled back to the present when she heard Rand describe a sutured scalp laceration. That was something new. It hadn’t been in the chart, nor had the cut on the right elbow or the circular bruise on the right thigh, a bruise about the size of a quarter.
“Did these abrasions happen before or after death?”
“Before,” he answered, making no attempt to conceal his irritation at the interruption.
“How old do you think they are?” said Marissa, ignoring his tone. She bent over to look at them more carefully.
“About a week old, I’d say,” Dr. Rand replied. “Give or take a couple of days. We’d be able to tell if we did microscopic sections. However, in view of the patient’s condition, I hardly think they are important. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to work.”
Forced to step back, Marissa thought about this evidence of trauma. There was probably some simple explanation; perhaps Dr. Zabriski had fallen playing tennis. What bothered Marissa was that the abrasion and the laceration were not mentioned on the man’s chart. Where Marissa had trained, every physical finding went into the record.
As soon as Rand had finished and Marissa had seen that the tissue samples were correctly done, she decided to track down the cause of the injuries.
Using the phone in pathology, Marissa tried Zabriski’s secretary, Judith. She let the phone ring twenty times. No answer. Reluctant to bother Mrs. Zabriski, Marissa thought about looking for Dr. Taboso, but instead decided to check Dr. Zabriski’s office, realizing it had to be right there in the hospital. She walked over and found Judith back at her desk.
Judith was a frail young woman in her mid-twenties. Mascara smudged her cheeks; Marissa could tell that she’d been crying. But she was more than sad; she was also terrified.