tried vainly to find any hidden entrance wounds. She was unable to do so. “So this individual was apparently only fired upon from the rear. That’s some information, wouldn’t you say, Lou?”
“Most definitely,” Lou responded, although he had no idea what it meant. “Maybe he was running away?”
“Could be,” Laurie responded. “Or swimming away.” Then to Vinnie she said, “Let’s turn him over and look at the entrance wounds.”
Vinnie followed Laurie’s orders and helped turn the body, with Lou pitching in, but he did not respond verbally, which Laurie found odd. To Laurie, one of Vinnie’s endearing characteristics was his wry, sarcastic humor, which often bested Jack’s. But this morning it was absent. “Is something wrong, Vinnie?” Laurie asked when the now prone body was again properly aligned on the autopsy table. “You’re so quiet this morning,” she said.
“No, I’m fine,” Vinnie said—too quickly, from Laurie’s point of view. For a moment she briefly wondered if he was resentful that she had asked him to help her rather than allowing him to wait for Jack.
At that moment Jack came blasting through the autopsy-room doors in his regular clothes, merely holding a mask against his face, violating two rules simultaneously.
“Hey, what’s going on in here? I’m ten minutes late and both a special NYPD case is snapped away and my personal mortuary tech has been kidnapped.”
“You should have come with me in the taxi,” Laurie lectured.
“Hello, Lou, and hello, Vinnie,” Jack said, coming up to the table and ignoring Laurie’s comment.
“Hello, Dr. Stapleton,” Vinnie responded quietly.
Jack’s head lifted, and he stared at Vinnie. “‘Dr. Stapleton’? How formal, indeed. What’s up with you? Are you sick?”
“I’m fine,” Vinnie responded. The truth was that he experienced a sharp resurgence of his guilt with Jack’s arrival. He wished he could leave and find someone else to take his place. In fact, the thought passed through his mind that maybe he should take a short leave of absence until whatever was going on with the Vaccarros and the subway case was over and done.
“My God, look at these tattoos!” Jack exclaimed, looking back at the corpse on the table. “That’s fantastic. What’s the story?”
“Floater,” Lou explained. He told Jack the little that was known about the case so far.
“Interesting! I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” Jack responded to Lou. Switching his attention to Laurie, he said, “You enjoy yourself! I’ll catch you later. Hope histology and the lab turn up something on your case yesterday.”
Jack started to leave but stopped. “Hey!” he added when she didn’t respond. Not only did she not respond, but she seemed hypnotized, staring at the Asian’s profile with his head turned to the side. Jack snapped his fingers in front of her face, and she acted as if she’d suddenly awakened.
“This is incredible,” she said. “I think I’ve seen this man.”
“You mean you’ve seen this corpse, or do you mean you’ve seen the man alive?”
“Alive,” Laurie said. “As incredible as it may seem.”
“Where?” Jack demanded. “When?”
Both Lou and Vinnie responded to this exchange by staring at Laurie with an intensity equal to Jack’s.
Laurie then shook her head. “It can’t be!” she said, throwing up her hands. “It’s too much of a coincidence.”
“What kind of coincidence?” Jack asked as he stepped back to where he’d been, closer to Laurie. It was difficult to see her face through her plastic face shield.
Laurie again shook her head as if trying to dislodge a crazy thought. “Last night I made what might be a breakthrough on the case I autopsied yesterday—”
“I thought you didn’t get a case yesterday,” Lou interrupted.
“I got it after you’d gone home,” Laurie explained. “Anyway, I suddenly think there might be a connection between yesterday’s case and this case. Obviously I’m not sure at this early point, but I believe there’s a possibility.”
“What kind of connection?” Lou asked. “This could be important!”
“Now, don’t get your hopes up,” Laurie cautioned.
“At least tell me what you have in mind,” Lou pleaded. He was excited. This was exactly why he had become so interested in forensic pathology and took the time and effort to come to OCME. In a number of cases since meeting Laurie and then Jack, it had been the autopsy that had provided the critical facts to solve a homicide, he hoped just like the one currently lying on the table in front of him.
“I’d rather not,” Laurie said. “Bear with me, please! Maybe this afternoon I’ll have the facts that I need. I’m sorry I’m not being more forthcoming.”
“This seems overly melodramatic,” Lou complained. “If this case is a harbinger of growing tension in the organized-crime world, it’s important we get the clue sooner rather than later, to limit fallout in the civilian sector. I don’t mind the bad guys killing each other. In some ways, that makes the NYPD’s job easier. It’s when civilians get hurt that I get upset.”
“I’m sorry,” Laurie said. “It’s all just jelling in my head at this point.”
“Are you trying to prove something to yourself?” Jack questioned. “Is that the explanation, as Lou says, for this melodramatic approach? I mean, there is a possibility that Lou or I could add a thing or two to your thinking process.”
“Maybe there’s something like that involved,” Laurie confessed. “I do want to do it myself.”
“Well, just tell me one fact, then,” Jack said. “Did you find out if your victim yesterday had a seizure?”
“Yes, I believe he did.”
18
MARCH 26, 2010
FRIDAY, 9:10 a.m.
The huge 747-400 banked gracefully on its approach into New York City’s JFK airport. A few minutes later it touched down onto the tarmac on runway 13R with hardly a jolt, another perfect landing of Flight 853 from Tokyo to New York by way of the North Pole. Once the plane’s momentum had been brought to the appropriate speed, the captain exited the runway and began the lengthy taxi to the terminal.
It had been a long flight for Hisayuki Ishii, and he stretched his arms and legs. Luckily, he had been able to sleep on and off for nearly eight hours and felt reasonably well despite having been incarcerated for more than half a day in an aluminum cylinder. Of course, having been in first class had helped. Vaguely he wondered if his two lieutenants, Chong Yong and Riki Watanabe, had fared as well a few rows back in business class.
The protracted flight had provided Hisayuki a rare opportunity to just think. His normal days were generally so full that it was a luxury to be able to concentrate. He hadn’t come up with any particularly new ideas in relation to the current problems, just a clearer idea of what to do. Since Satoshi and family were now gone, it was the lab books he needed to get, which was what he’d thought at the beginning of the flight, and he was now more convinced. The lab books provided the legal basis of contesting the Kyoto University patents. Of course, the other issue of critical concern was the relationship with the Yamaguchi-gumi, the real reason he’d made the snap decision to fly to New York the morning after he’d met with the Yamaguchi-gumi
With those thoughts in mind, Hisayuki took out his cell phone and placed a call to Hideki. As the phone rang, he glanced out the plane’s window. As high off the ground as he was, it seemed that the huge plane was crawling forward slowly, tempting him to complain to the staff, as he was impatient to arrive. Of course, he didn’t, but the thought made him realize how tense he was concerning the situation and about learning what changes had occurred since he’d been in the air and out of touch:
