Tell him I want to meet with him, Myron said. And it has to be today.
I can't promise you
Just tell him.
He looked at his watch. He was meeting Dad at the Club at noon. It gave him time to try to rendezvous with Sally Li, chief medical examiner for Bergen County. He called her office and told her he wanted to talk.
Not here, Sally said. You know the Fashion Center?
It's one of the malls on Route Seventeen, right?
On the Ridgewood Avenue intersection, yeah. There's a sub shop outside the Bed, Bath and Beyond. Meet me there in an hour.
Bed, Bath and Beyond is part of the Fashion Center?
Must have something to do with the Beyond part.
She hung up. He got in the rental car and started out to Paramus, New Jersey. Motto: There's No Such Thing as Too Much Commerce. The town of Paramus was like a muggy, jam-packed elevator with some jerk holding the door-open button and shouting, Come on, we can squeeze in one more strip mall.
Nothing about the Fashion Center was particularly fashionable; the mall was in fact so unhip that teenagers didn't even hang out there. Sally Li sat on a bench, an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. She wore green hospital scrubs and rubber sports sandals with no socks footwear sported by many a coroner because it made cleaning off blood and guts and other human debris easy with a simple garden hose.
Okay, a little background here: For the past decade or so, Myron had been involved in an onagain, off-again romance with Jessica Culver. More recently they'd been in love. They'd moved in together. And now it was over. Or so he thought. He was not sure what exactly had happened. Objective observers might point to Brenda. She came along and changed a lot of things. But Myron was not sure.
So what's that have to do with Sally Li?
Jessica's father, Adam Culver, had been the Bergen County chief medical examiner until he was murdered several years ago. Sally Li, his assistant and close friend, had taken his place. That was how Myron knew her.
He approached. Another no-smoking mall?
No one uses the word no anymore, Sally said. They say free instead. This isn't a no-smoking mall; it's a smoke-free zone. Next they'll call underwater an air-free zone. Or the Senate a brainfree zone.
So why did you want to meet here?
Sally sighed, sat up. Because you want to know about Clu Raid's autopsy, right?
Myron hesitated, nodded.
Well, my superiors and I use that term knowing I don't even have equals would frown upon
seeing us together. In fact, they'd probably try to fire my ass.
So why take the risk? he asked.
First off, I'm going to change jobs. I'm going back West, probably UCLAl Second, I'm cute,
female, and what they now call Asian-American. It makes it harder to fire me. I might make a stink and the politically ambitious hate to look like they're beating up a minority. Third, you're a good guy. You figured out the truth when Adam was killed. I figure I owe you. She took the cigarette out of her mouth, put it back in the package, took out another one, put it in her mouth. So what do you want to know?
Just like that?
Just like that.
Myron said, I thought I'd have to turn on my charm.
Only if you want to get me naked. She waved a hand. Ah, who am I kidding? Go ahead,
Myron, fire away.
Injuries? Myron asked.
Four bullet wounds.
I thought there were three.
So did we at first. Two to the head, both at close range, either one of which would have been
fatal. The cops thought there was only one. There was another in the right calf, and another in the
back between the shoulder blades.
Longer range?
Yeah, I'd say at least five feet. Looked liked thirty-eights, but I don't do ballistics.
You were at the scene, right?
Yup.
Could you tell if there was forced entry?
The cops said no.
Myron sat back and nodded to himself. Let me see if I got the DA's theory right. Correct me if
I'm wrong.
I look forward to it.
They figure Clu knew the killer. He let him or her in voluntarily, they talked or whatever, and
something went wrong. The killer draws a gun, Clu runs, the killer fires two shots. One hits his
calf, the other his back. Could you tell which came first?
Which what?
The calf shot or the back shot.
No, Sally said.
Okay, so Clu goes down. He's hurt but not dead. The killer puts the gun to Clu's head. Bang,
bang.
Sally arched an eyebrow. I'm impressed.
Thanks.
As far as it goes.
Pardon?
She sighed and shifted on the bench. There are problems.
Such as?
The body was moved.
Myron felt his pulse pick up. Clu was killed someplace else?
No. But his body was moved. After he was killed.
I don't understand.
The lividity wasn't affected, so the blood didn't have time to settle. But he was dragged around
on the floor, probably immediately after death, though it could be up to an hour later. And the
room was tossed.
The killer was searching for something, Myron said. Probably the two hundred thousand
dollars.
Don't know about that. But there were blood smears all over the place.
What do you mean, smears?
Look, I'm an ME. I don't interpret crime scenes. But the place was a mess. Overturned furniture
and bookshelves, drawers emptied out, and blood everywhere. On the walls. And on the floor.
Like he'd been dragged like a rag doll.
Maybe he was dragging himself around. After he was shot in the leg and back.
Could be, I guess. Of course it's hard to drag yourself across walls unless you're Spider-Man.
Myron's blood chilled a few degrees. He tried to sort and sift and process. How did all this fit?
The killer was on a rampage to find the cash. Okay, that makes sense. But why drag around the
body? Why smear the walls with blood?
We're not finished, Sally said.
Myron blinked as though coming out of a trance.
I also ran a full tox screen on the deceased. Know what I found?
Heroin?
She shook her head. El Zippo.
What?
Nada, nothing, the big zero.
