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that I’m a woman who
knows how to kill and leave no evidence to show up
in the autopsy. I want this problem fixed, and I don’t
mean tomorrow.’’
She hung up the phone and walked out into the lab.
‘‘I hate to talk to maintenance men. It’s like talking
to a blackmailer. They know they’ve got you by the
balls.’’
She motioned toward suits of protective gear lying
on
the countertop.
The two
of them
slipped on
lab
coats, face shields and gloves and entered the isola
tion lab.
The
room
had
two
tables,
shiny
metal
rectangles
atop
bright
white
cabinets.
Between
the
two
tables
hung
scales
for
weighing
organs.
Across
the
room
stood a series of cabinets, metal countertops and sinks.
Everything sparkled, from the glossy blue floor to the
metal
surfaces—everything
except
the
blackened
corpse
with
stiff
blond
hair
and
an
exceptionally
long neck.
‘‘I was so happy to get this new containment room.
But it’s been one problem after another.’’
‘‘Can’t
the
hospital
administration
do
anything?’’
asked Diane.
‘‘You’re talking about Jack the Bean Counter.’’ She
sighed.
‘‘I’m
sorry
it’s
so
unbearable
in
here.
Right
now we have to keep working and put up with it.’’
‘‘My
grandma
found
somebody
hanging
like
this
when she was a girl,’’ said the diener. ‘‘Neck all long
like a snake. She took it as a sign.’’
‘‘A sign of what?’’ asked Diane.
‘‘That she and her family should move to Atlanta.’’
‘‘Did they?’’
‘‘Sure ’nuff, they did.’’ He started toward the door,
taking off his face shield. ‘‘I’ll be right back.’’
Diane and Lynn watched the lean young black man
walk out of the room.
‘‘I
never
ask
Raymond
what
he’s
doing
when
he
gets that blank look on his face.’’ Lynn shrugged, then
shifted gears. ‘‘I’d like to start with the clothes. We’ll
have to cut the sleeves, but I’d like to inspect the body
before the hands are untied.’’
The
material
was
stiff
and
hard
to
dropped
from
the
body
to
the
metal
cut.
Maggots
surface
of
the
table as they worked. They were putting the clothes
in a bag when the diener came back in. He put on his
gloves and took the bag of evidence.
‘‘I’ll label. What we calling the body?’’
‘‘Blue,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Blue,’’
said
Raymond.
‘‘I
guess
that’s
as
good
a
name as any.’’
‘‘When
we
cut
them
down,
we
tied
blue,
red
or
green cord around both cut ends of the rope so we
could
match
the
ropes
again
after
they
were
sepa
rated.’’
Diane
pointed
to
the
blue
string
wrapped
around the end of the rope that marked it and kept
it from unraveling.
The noose was still tight around the neck, sunk deep
into the flesh under the chin. Diane would hate for
any family member to ever see their loved one like
this. They would never be able to think of their rela
tive again without seeing this image. She stood back
and
watched
as
Lynn
and her
diener
tended
to
the
painstaking external examination of the body.
Lynn talked into a hanging microphone as she de
scribed what they found. ‘‘The victim appears to be a
female at this point...’’
A
pounding
on
the
window
startled
Diane.
The
three of them looked up to see a man in his thirties
standing in the outer autopsy room, looking through
the window at them. He was dressed in gray trousers,
white
shirt
and
floral
tie,
holding
a
hand
over
his
mouth and nose. Lynn flipped the intercom switch.
‘‘What’s going on in here?’’ he said. ‘‘Step out here
for a minute.’’
‘‘I’m
in
the
middle
of
an
important
examination,
Jackson. What do you want?’’
Jackson bent over and gagged. ‘‘Why does it smell
so bad in here?’’
The three of them looked at Jackson with their eye
brows raised enough
to make deep furrows
in their
foreheads.
‘‘We have a rotting corpse on the table,’’ said Lynn.
‘‘It would be a little better if the air-conditioning sys
tem were working, but it’s not.’’
‘‘The air