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almost appeared to be part of a painted backdrop. His diplomas and two anatomy charts were hung on the walls with an exactitude that made Rachael wonder if he checked their alignment every morning with ruler and plumb line.
    Kordell's preoccupation with neatness and orderliness was also evident in his appearance. He was tall and almost excessively lean, about fifty, with a sharp-featured ascetic face and clear brown eyes. Not a strand of his graying, razor-cut hair was out of place. His long-fingered hands were singularly spare of flesh, almost skeletal. His white shirt looked as if it had been laundered only five minutes ago, and the straight creases in each leg of his dark brown trousers were so sharp they almost glinted in the fluorescent light.
    When Rachael and Benny were settled in a pair of dark pine chairs
with forest-green leather cushions, Kordell went around the desk to
his own chair. “This is most distressing to me, Mrs. Leben-to add
this burden to what you've already been through today. It's quite
inexcusable. I apologize again and extend my deepest sympathies,
though I know nothing I say can make the matter any less disturbing.
Are you all right? Can I get you a glass of water or anything?”
    “I'm okay,” Rachael said, though she could not remember ever feeling worse.
    Benny reached out and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. Sweet,
reliable Benny. She was so glad he was with her. At five eleven and a
hundred fifty pounds, he was not physically imposing. With brown
hair, brown eyes, and a pleasing but ordinary face, he seemed like a
man who would vanish in a crowd and be virtually invisible at a
party. But when he spoke in that soft voice of his, or moved with his
uncanny grace, or just looked hard at you, his sensitivity and
intelligence were instantly discernible. In his own quiet way, he had
the impact of a lion's roar. Everything would be easier with Benny at her side, but she worried about getting him involved in this.
    To the medical examiner, Rachael said, “I just want to understand
what's happened.”
    But she was afraid that she understood more than Kordell.
    “I'll be entirely candid, Mrs. Leben,” Kordell said. “No point in being otherwise.” He sighed and shook his head as if he still had difficulty believing such a screwup had happened. Then he blinked, frowned, and turned to Benny. “You're
not Mrs. Leben's attorney, by any chance?”
    “Just an old friend,” Benny said.
    “Really?”
    “I'm here for moral support.”
    “Well, I'm hoping we can avoid attorneys,” Kordell said.
    “I've absolutely no intention of retaining legal counsel,” Rachael assured him.
    The medical examiner nodded glumly, clearly unconvinced of her
sincerity. He said,
“I'm not ordinarily in the office at this hour.” It was nine-thirty Monday night. “When work unexpectedly backs up and it's
necessary to schedule late autopsies, I leave them to one of the
assistant medical examiners. The only exceptions are when the
deceased is a prominent citizen or the victim of a particularly
bizarre and complex homicide. In that case, when there's certain to be a lot of heat involved-the media and politicians, I mean-then I prefer not to put the burden on my subordinates, and if a night autopsy is unavoidable, I stay after hours. Your husband was, of course, a very prominent citizen.”
    As he seemed to expect a response, she nodded. She
didn't trust herself to speak. Fear had risen and fallen in her ever since she had received the news of the body's
disappearance, and at the moment it was at high tide.
    “The body was delivered to the morgue and logged in at 12:14 this
afternoon,” Kordell continued. “Because we were already behind
schedule and because I had a speaking engagement this afternoon, I
ordered my assistants to proceed with the cadavers in the order of
their log entries, and I arranged to handle your
husband's body myself at 6:30 this evening.” He put his fingertips to his temples, massaging