OCTOBER 17, 2007
WEDNESDAY, 9:45 A.M.
DELHI, INDIA
Jennifer stared out the Mercedes’s window. She was so embroiled in her own thoughts she didn’t even notice the traffic. The reality was that she had been what she called “pissed” far sooner than she’d admitted. There was no doubt Queen Victoria Hospital was jerking her around, and having been a victim long enough in her relatively short life, she didn’t relish the role. Breaking out of the role had been her major challenge. The seminal event had occurred in middle school, where truancy and fighting had become the rule for her. At loose ends, her grandmother, who had been a particularly proud woman, did something she normally would not have done: She begged for someone’s help. The person she turned to was Dr. Laurie Montgomery, a New York medical examiner whom the grandmother had practically raised from age one to age thirteen as her nanny.
At the time Jennifer had found it big-time weird to meet a stranger who called her own grandmother “Granny.” But Granny had been Laurie Montgomery’s nanny for twelve years. Not surprisingly, Dr. Montgomery had fallen in love with Granny and considered her family. So when Jennifer’s demons drove her over the cliff, Granny pleaded with Laurie Montgomery to try to stop Jennifer’s downward spiral.
With as much love and respect as Laurie held for Maria, she was happy to help. What she did was invite the wayward Jennifer to the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner after school for one week to follow her around and see what her job was all about. The other medical examiners had been skeptical of a twelve-year-old girl having a career week at the morgue, but Laurie had prevailed, and the result beat expectations. The situation had been sufficiently “weird” and “yucky,” in Jennifer’s own terms, to capture her adolescent imagination, especially since it was the first academic career to which she’d been even slightly exposed. Jennifer took it all in stride—until the third day. That day, a girl just her age was brought in with a perfectly clean, round red dot in her forehead. She’d been shot by a rival gang.
Fortunately, Jennifer’s story went on to have a happy ending. Jennifer and Laurie had clicked more than either would have imagined, prompting Laurie to check with both her philanthropic mother and her own private school as to the possibility of Jennifer’s getting a scholarship. A month later, Jennifer found herself in a demanding academic environment with no gang affiliations, and the rest was history.
“Of course!” Jennifer said loud enough to startle the driver.
“Is there a problem, madam?” the driver asked, while looking at Jennifer through the rearview mirror.
“No, no problem,” Jennifer said, as she reached for her shoulder bag and began rummaging for her phone. She had no idea what it would cost to call New York, but she wasn’t going to worry about it. She was going to call Laurie Montgomery. Laurie didn’t even know Granny had died, and that was reason enough to call. On top of that was the decision issue, and even the autopsy idea. Now that she had thought of calling Laurie, Jennifer had trouble explaining to herself why she hadn’t thought of it earlier.
While trying to figure out how to dial the United States, Jennifer had another question: What time was it on the East Coast? She knew it was nine and a half hours’ difference, but in which direction? Despite her exhaustion, Jennifer forced herself to concentrate. She reasoned that since New York was ahead, then time should go back, and as crazy as that sounded to her at the moment, the more confident she was, but not overconfident. She went through the reasoning again, and then decided to accept on faith it was close to midnight the evening before in the Big Apple.
Knowing from the distant past that Laurie was an inveterate night owl, Jennifer was willing to make the call. Despite the subject of the call, she found herself getting excited as she heard it go through. It was astounding to think she was about to talk to Laurie halfway around the world, and she hadn’t spoken with her for more than a year. The phone was picked up on the first ring.
“I hope I’m not calling too late,” Jennifer said without preamble.
“Heavens no,” Laurie responded. “Is this Jennifer?”
“It is.”
Laurie was demonstrably pleased to hear Jennifer’s voice and assumed she was in California. For a few minutes, the women made small talk. Jennifer asked about Jack. Laurie, for her part, apologized for not calling Jennifer since the wedding and used the infertility turmoil as her prime excuse. Jennifer wished her luck.
“So,” Laurie said when there was a pause, “is this a mere social call or what? Not that it isn’t great to hear from you, but is there something I can help with, like a letter of recommendation for a residency?”
“Unfortunately, there is a specific reason for my call, but it doesn’t have anything to do with my medical training,” Jennifer said. She went on to explain that she was in India and why. At several places she had to stop and pull herself together.
“Oh, no!” Laurie said when Jennifer finished. “I hadn’t heard a word. Oh, I’m so sorry!”
Jennifer could hear a catch in Laurie’s voice as she waxed nostalgic about how much Maria had added to her childhood. She closed her spontaneous eulogy with a question: “Did you go to India to bring back her body or her ashes to the States, or are you planning on leaving her there? After all, India might be the world’s most spiritual country. If I died in India, I think I’d like my ashes placed in the Ganges with the billions of other souls.”
“Now that’s one thing I didn’t think of,” Jennifer admitted, explaining that she was having trouble deciding between cremation or embalming, much less what she was going to do with the remains afterward. “Sometime today I’m going to try to get over to the American embassy. I imagine they’ll have the scoop on comparative costs and all the diplomatic details.”
“I imagine that will be the case. Gosh, I’m sorry you have to do this yourself. I wish I were there to help. She truly was like a mother to me, so much so, I think there were times my real mother was jealous, but it was my mother’s own fault. She was the one who handed me over to begin with.”
“I can assure you the feelings were mutual,” Jennifer said.
“I’m pleased to hear it, but I’m not surprised. Children can sense it, like I did.”
“There’s something else I want to run by you. Do you have a few more minutes?”
“By all means. I’m all ears.”
“The hospital authorities have really been pushing me hard, which I freely admit I don’t respond well to, and they do have reason. I mean, the private hospital involved is spectacular and very high-tech. Yet when they built it, they passed on building any mortuary facilities. Because in India bodies are claimed very rapidly by both Hindus and Muslims, for religious reasons.”
“And maybe the hospital’s owners thought that in spiritual India with all the gods on their side, they wouldn’t have any deaths.”
Jennifer managed a chuckle then went on. “Granny’s body is in a walk-in cooler, but the cooler is down near the cafeteria and contains mostly sealed food containers. Apparently that’s the only place to leave a body.”
“Yuck,” Laurie voiced.
“Why I’m telling you this is because from their vantage point they have a real reason to want to dispose of Granny, especially since they already have the death certificate in hand.”
“I should say.”
“But they tried to force me to decide even before I got here, and once I did get here, and I’ve only been here for hours, it’s been push, push, push, cremate or embalm. I mean, they literally wanted to do it yesterday for fear the sky would fall. Initially, maybe I was just being obstructive from being angry because they killed my granny. Now it’s something else.”
“Like what? What are you implying?”
“I asked them what killed Maria, and they said heart attack. Then I asked them what caused the heart attack, given that she came out to visit me in L.A. not too long ago, and while she was there, she got a very thorough physical at UCLA Med Center. I was told her cardiovascular system got an A-plus report. Now, how can someone with an A-plus get an F a few months later, twelve hours post-elective surgery. I mean, during the procedure it might be understandable for idiosyncratic drug toxicity but not twelve hours later. At least I don’t think so.”
“I agree,” Laurie said. “With no apparent risk factors, you have to ask the question why.”
“And that’s why I did ask the question, but I certainly did not get a satisfactory answer, at least from the
