'I love the cactus flower most, you know.'
'Courtship,' he said.
'What?'
'On the res, when a boy gives a girl a cactus flower, it's the beginning of their courtship.'
'All this time and I never knew. Why didn't you tell me before?'
Lucas didn't reply, going to the plants at the terrace edge instead, running his fingers lightly over them. 'Hibiscus…they're called hibiscus, huh? Sounds Greek.'
'Greek or perhaps Latin, I'm sure.'
'Interesting word, hibiscus. Interesting lilt to it, a single word with its own melody is rare. Hibiscus…think I bet on a racehorse once with that name.'
'I'm sure you have.'
He returned from the edge to stand again behind her where she sat sipping her now-lukewarm coffee. He placed both hands on her shoulders, saying nothing.
'Listen, Lucas, thanks for rushing over like you did.'
'What else is a friend to do under the circumstances?'
'Most friends I have would do like Byron and run the other way under the circumstances.'
'I didn't do much.'
'Your being here is enough. So trust me when I say you don't have to make small talk and-'
'Small talk?'
'— and pretend an interest in my potted plants, Lucas.'
'Whoa up there, Doctor. I'll remember that if and when I should make small talk and idle chitchat,' he countered.
'All I'm saying is that you don't need to resort to pretense to please me or in some vain attempt to distract me from the fact someone's mailed me a set of human eyes and a pair of teeth, and that my living room's become a crime scene, and that my personal security-my home in the clouds here-has been breached and defiled.'
'Easy, sweetheart.'
She reached up with both hands and covered his where they continued to squeeze her shoulders. 'That feels good,' she told him.
They continued to hold hands while the evidence techs created a crime grid of her living room. 'Do you really think the whole horrible thing is an elaborate stinking joke, Lucas, or was that just another attempt to get me to calm down?'
'If it is a hoax, the bastards've let it go too far now. The costs involved in sending out a CSI unit, the time and manpower in running all this as evidence in a crime, hell… can you imagine the heads that'll roll?'
'You've never liked Frank Patterson, have you? And as for Feldman, how long has that feud been going on?'
'Creeps, both of 'em, cut of the same cloth. One concern in life, self-gratification now! Couple of pricks of the first caliber.'
'Sounds like you know it's them and calling it in to the crime lab was to get back at them maybe?'
'Stir their stew counterclockwise, you mean?'
'They cooked this up, and you plan to cook their gooses? You're as much a juvenile as they are, Lucas.'
He came around to face her, hands extended. 'No way I would be disrespectful of human organs, desecrating someone's body or bodily parts this way. You can't put me in the same nincompoop class as they're in.'
'No, I don't…I mean, I didn't mean to imply that, Lucas. I have great respect for you, but be careful not to allow them to pull you down to their level.'
He dropped into the cushioned metal chair across from her. 'Not a chance. Look, so far as I know right now, Mere, what you and I received via hand-delivered mail is a felony, and it smacks of a far worse crime, murder. That's the way I'm playing this out for now.' He leaned in over the table as he spoke, his body language and eyes sincere.
'So you've called the town crier-Sergeant Kelton- posited the theory of it's being a hoax in his head, so you don't even have to point a finger. Before daybreak, it'll be all over the precinct.'
'I know, out in the open.'
'Dr. Chang and Captain Lincoln will hear the story that human remains were stolen from the crime lab.'
'And the proverbial shit hits the proverbial fan. But Mere, at this stage, it's as good a theory as any we have.'
'Look, if it is a horrible hoax perpetrated by some bozos, I want the bastards to pay dearly for it. Don't get me wrong.'
'Then we're on the same page.'
They fell silent for a moment, in one ear the sounds of the people bagging and collecting the evidence inside, in the other ear the sounds of traffic and the city.
'You know, Lucas, I like the way you call me Mere. Have I ever told you that you're the only one I know who calls me Mere, that is, aside from my mom and dad?'
'No, you've never shared that with me, Mere.'
'My dad used it kiddingly. Called me Night-Mere sometimes!'
Lucas laughed lightly at this. 'That's a good one.'
'Fits, you mean.'
'Maybe that too.'
From inside, the click-click-click of the digital photographs being taken filtered out to them. They heard Dr. Leonard Chang's distinctive voice now, ordering that the poetic note and the CD be bagged and taken into evidence as well.
'I'm going to check on Chang's progress, and let him know about Byron's prints being on the wrapper. You might best stay out here. Can I bring you a drink from the fridge?'
'Yeah, there's some iced tea in the flask.'
Lucas returned to the living room, where it appeared the techs were closing down their investigation. He saw that each eye and each tooth had been placed into separate baggies, and while each tooth was dropped into a pocket within a black valise, the two eyes were dropped into a medical cooler filled with ice.
Dr. Leonard Chang slowed Hoskins up, wanting to look once more into the depth of the eyes, holding them now in his gloved hands, staring through the cellophane bags. When Lucas came alongside him, asking him what he thought, Chang erupted from his inscrutable silence. 'How horrible this must have been for Meredyth. How is she holding up?'
'She's gutsy; she's holding up.' He told Chang about Byron Priestly's having handled the package. 'Leonard, I'd like you and maybe Dr. Nielsen to investigate your labs for missing tissues, eyes, teeth.'
'My labs? What're you meaning to imply, Lucas?'
'These items and those sent to my place-autopsy slices of human organs as far as I can tell-may've originated in-house as a sick joke against me and Meredyth.'
'That would be in the worst taste imaginable.'
'Yeah, tasted bad at my place too.'
'What kind of package did this fiend send you?'
Lucas described the packaging as identical down to the Styrofoam-lined interior that soaked up much of the liquid residue coming off the warm contents. 'The hand-printing job and the scripted poems appear the work of the same person, so I'm wondering the same thing you are right about now.'
'Which is?' The slight Chinese M.E. looked piqued that Lucas should suggest that his thoughts could be read.
'Are the body parts from the same victim, and who is the victim? And could the victim have been a resident of your morgue?'
'I'll hang anyone who might have taken human tissues and organs from our labs, Lucas. There will be no mercy for such actions. No one working under my direction can take such despicable liberties. It can't happen, not in my morgue.'
'Come on, Leonard. You know who I have in mind. Scratch the surface of the man and what've you got?'
'You want me to question Frank Patterson about this?'
