Authors: Robin Cook
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Suspense Fiction, #Fiction - Espionage, #Thriller, #Detective and mystery stories, #Espionage, #Onbekend, #Medical, #Medical novels, #New York (N.Y.), #Forensic pathologists, #Equatorial Guinea, #Forensic pathologists - Fiction, #Robin - Prose & Criticism, #Equatorial Guinea - Fiction, #Cook, #New York (N.Y.) - Fiction
Chromosome 6 (27 page)
Levitz gave no indication he was aware of these movements. He shook hands stiffly with Jack and then
retreated behind the vast expanse of his desk. "I'm very busy," Dr. Levitz said. "But, of course, I always have time for the police." "I'm not the police," Jack said. "I'm Dr. Jack Stapleton from the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner of New York."
Dr. Levitz's head twitched as did his sparse mustache. He appeared to swallow. "Oh," he commented. "I wanted to talk to you briefly about one of your patients," Jack said. "My patients' conditions are confidential," Dr. Levitz said, as if by rote. "Of course," Jack said. He smiled. "That is, of course, until they have died and become a medical examiner's case. You see, I want to ask you about Mr. Carlo Franconi." Jack watched as Dr. Levitz went through a number of bizarre motions, making Jack glad the man had not gone into brain surgery.
"I still respect my patients' confidentiality," he said. "I can understand your position from an ethical point of view," Jack said. "But I should remind you that we medical examiners in the State of New York have subpoena power in such a circumstance. So, why don't we just have a conversation? Who knows, we might be able to clear things up." "What do you want to know?" Dr. Levitz asked. "I learned from reading Mr. Franconi's extensive hospital history that he'd had a long bout with liver problems leading to liver failure," Jack said. Dr. Levitz nodded, which caused his right shoulder to jerk several times. Jack waited until these involuntary movements subsided.
"To come right to the point," Jack said, "the big question is whether or not Mr. Franconi had a liver transplant."
At first Levitz did not speak. He merely twitched. Jack was determined to wait the man out. "I don't know anything about a liver transplant," Dr. Levitz said finally. "When did you see him last?" Jack asked. Dr. Levitz picked up his phone and asked one of his assistants to bring in Mr. Carlo Franconi's record. "It will just be a moment," Dr. Levitz said. "In one of Mr. Franconi's hospital admissions about three years ago, you specifically wrote that it was your opinion that a transplant would be necessary. Do you remember writing that?" "Not specifically," Dr. Levitz said. "But I was aware of a deteriorating condition, as well as Mr.
retreated behind the vast expanse of his desk. "I'm very busy," Dr. Levitz said. "But, of course, I always have time for the police." "I'm not the police," Jack said. "I'm Dr. Jack Stapleton from the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner of New York."
Dr. Levitz's head twitched as did his sparse mustache. He appeared to swallow. "Oh," he commented. "I wanted to talk to you briefly about one of your patients," Jack said. "My patients' conditions are confidential," Dr. Levitz said, as if by rote. "Of course," Jack said. He smiled. "That is, of course, until they have died and become a medical examiner's case. You see, I want to ask you about Mr. Carlo Franconi." Jack watched as Dr. Levitz went through a number of bizarre motions, making Jack glad the man had not gone into brain surgery.
"I still respect my patients' confidentiality," he said. "I can understand your position from an ethical point of view," Jack said. "But I should remind you that we medical examiners in the State of New York have subpoena power in such a circumstance. So, why don't we just have a conversation? Who knows, we might be able to clear things up." "What do you want to know?" Dr. Levitz asked. "I learned from reading Mr. Franconi's extensive hospital history that he'd had a long bout with liver problems leading to liver failure," Jack said. Dr. Levitz nodded, which caused his right shoulder to jerk several times. Jack waited until these involuntary movements subsided.
"To come right to the point," Jack said, "the big question is whether or not Mr. Franconi had a liver transplant."
At first Levitz did not speak. He merely twitched. Jack was determined to wait the man out. "I don't know anything about a liver transplant," Dr. Levitz said finally. "When did you see him last?" Jack asked. Dr. Levitz picked up his phone and asked one of his assistants to bring in Mr. Carlo Franconi's record. "It will just be a moment," Dr. Levitz said. "In one of Mr. Franconi's hospital admissions about three years ago, you specifically wrote that it was your opinion that a transplant would be necessary. Do you remember writing that?" "Not specifically," Dr. Levitz said. "But I was aware of a deteriorating condition, as well as Mr.
Franconi's failure to stop drinking."
"But you never mentioned it again," Jack said. "I found that surprising when it was easy to see a gradual but relentless deterioration in his liver function tests over the next couple of years." "A doctor can only do so much to influence his patient's behavior," Dr. Levitz said. The door opened and the deferential receptionist brought in a fat folder. Wordlessly she placed it on Dr. Levitz's desk and withdrew.
Dr. Levitz picked it up and, after a quick glance, said that he'd seen Carlo Franconi a month previously. "What did you see him for?"
"An upper respiratory infection," Dr. Levitz said. "I prescribed some antibiotic. Apparently, it worked." "Did you examine him?"
"Of course!" Dr. Levitz said with indignation. "I always examine my patients." "Had he had a liver transplant?"
"Well, I didn't do a complete physical," Dr. Levitz explained. "I examined him appropriately in reference to his complaint and his symptoms."
"You didn't even feel his liver, knowing his history?" Jack asked. "I didn't write it down if I did," Dr. Levitz said. "Did you do any blood work that would reflect liver function?" Jack asked. "Only a bilirubin," Dr. Levitz said.
"Why only a bilirubin?"
"He'd been jaundiced in the past," Dr. Levitz said. "He looked better, but I wanted to document it." "What was the result?" Jack asked.
"It was within normal limits," Dr. Levitz said. "So, except for his upper respiratory infection, he was doing quite well," Jack said. "Yes, I suppose you could say that," Dr. Levitz said. "Almost like a miracle," Jack said. "Especially as you've already mentioned the man was unwilling to curb his alcohol intake."
"Perhaps he finally had stopped," Dr. Levitz said. "After all, people can change." "Would you mind if I looked at his record?" Jack asked.
"But you never mentioned it again," Jack said. "I found that surprising when it was easy to see a gradual but relentless deterioration in his liver function tests over the next couple of years." "A doctor can only do so much to influence his patient's behavior," Dr. Levitz said. The door opened and the deferential receptionist brought in a fat folder. Wordlessly she placed it on Dr. Levitz's desk and withdrew.
Dr. Levitz picked it up and, after a quick glance, said that he'd seen Carlo Franconi a month previously. "What did you see him for?"
"An upper respiratory infection," Dr. Levitz said. "I prescribed some antibiotic. Apparently, it worked." "Did you examine him?"
"Of course!" Dr. Levitz said with indignation. "I always examine my patients." "Had he had a liver transplant?"
"Well, I didn't do a complete physical," Dr. Levitz explained. "I examined him appropriately in reference to his complaint and his symptoms."
"You didn't even feel his liver, knowing his history?" Jack asked. "I didn't write it down if I did," Dr. Levitz said. "Did you do any blood work that would reflect liver function?" Jack asked. "Only a bilirubin," Dr. Levitz said.
"Why only a bilirubin?"
"He'd been jaundiced in the past," Dr. Levitz said. "He looked better, but I wanted to document it." "What was the result?" Jack asked.
"It was within normal limits," Dr. Levitz said. "So, except for his upper respiratory infection, he was doing quite well," Jack said. "Yes, I suppose you could say that," Dr. Levitz said. "Almost like a miracle," Jack said. "Especially as you've already mentioned the man was unwilling to curb his alcohol intake."
"Perhaps he finally had stopped," Dr. Levitz said. "After all, people can change." "Would you mind if I looked at his record?" Jack asked.
"Yes, I would mind," Dr. Levitz said. "I've already stated my ethical position about confidentiality. If you
want these records, you will have to subpoena them. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be obstructive." "That's quite all right," Jack said agreeably. He stood up. "I'll let the state's attorney's office know how you feel. Meanwhile, thanks for your time, and if you don't mind, I'll probably be talking with you in the near future. There's something very strange about this case, and I intend to get to the bottom of it." Jack smiled to himself, as he undid the locks on his bike. It was so obvious that Dr. Levitz knew more than he was willing to say. How much more, Jack didn't know, but certainly it added to the intrigue. Jack had an intuitive sense that not only was this the most interesting case he'd had so far in his forensics career, it might be the most interesting case he'd ever have. Returning to the morgue, he stashed his bike in the usual location, went up to his office to drop off his coat, then went directly to the DNA lab. But Ted wasn't ready for him. "I need a couple more hours," Ted said. "And I'll call you! You don't have to come up here." Disappointed but undeterred, Jack descended a floor to histology and checked on the progress of his permanent microscopic sections on what was now labeled the Franconi case. "My god!" Maureen complained. "What do you expect, miracles? I'm rushing your slides through ahead of everybody else, but still you'll be lucky to get them today." Still trying to keep his spirits up and his curiosity at bay, Jack rode the elevator down to the second floor and sought out John DeVries in the lab.
"The assays for cyclosporin A and FK506 are not easy," John snapped. "Besides, we're backed up as it is. You can't expect instant service with the budget I have to work with." "Okay!" Jack said agreeably, as he backed out of the lab. He knew that John was an irascible individual, and if aroused, he could be passive aggressive. If that happened, it might be weeks before Jack got the test results.
Descending yet another floor, Jack went into Bart Arnold's office and implored the man to give him something since he'd struck out every place else. "I've made a lot of calls," Bart said. "But you know the situation with voice mail. You almost never get anyone on the phone anymore. So, I got a lot of messages out there, waiting for callbacks." "Jeez," Jack complained. "I feel like a teenage girl with a new dress, waiting to get asked to the prom." "Sorry," Bart said. "If it's any consolation, we did manage to get a blood sample from Franconi's mother. It's already up in the DNA lab."
"Was the mother asked whether her son had a liver transplant?" "Absolutely," Bard said. "Mrs. Franconi assured the investigator that she didn't know anything about a transplant. But she did admit that her son had been much healthier lately." "To what did she attribute his sudden health?" Jack asked.
want these records, you will have to subpoena them. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be obstructive." "That's quite all right," Jack said agreeably. He stood up. "I'll let the state's attorney's office know how you feel. Meanwhile, thanks for your time, and if you don't mind, I'll probably be talking with you in the near future. There's something very strange about this case, and I intend to get to the bottom of it." Jack smiled to himself, as he undid the locks on his bike. It was so obvious that Dr. Levitz knew more than he was willing to say. How much more, Jack didn't know, but certainly it added to the intrigue. Jack had an intuitive sense that not only was this the most interesting case he'd had so far in his forensics career, it might be the most interesting case he'd ever have. Returning to the morgue, he stashed his bike in the usual location, went up to his office to drop off his coat, then went directly to the DNA lab. But Ted wasn't ready for him. "I need a couple more hours," Ted said. "And I'll call you! You don't have to come up here." Disappointed but undeterred, Jack descended a floor to histology and checked on the progress of his permanent microscopic sections on what was now labeled the Franconi case. "My god!" Maureen complained. "What do you expect, miracles? I'm rushing your slides through ahead of everybody else, but still you'll be lucky to get them today." Still trying to keep his spirits up and his curiosity at bay, Jack rode the elevator down to the second floor and sought out John DeVries in the lab.
"The assays for cyclosporin A and FK506 are not easy," John snapped. "Besides, we're backed up as it is. You can't expect instant service with the budget I have to work with." "Okay!" Jack said agreeably, as he backed out of the lab. He knew that John was an irascible individual, and if aroused, he could be passive aggressive. If that happened, it might be weeks before Jack got the test results.
Descending yet another floor, Jack went into Bart Arnold's office and implored the man to give him something since he'd struck out every place else. "I've made a lot of calls," Bart said. "But you know the situation with voice mail. You almost never get anyone on the phone anymore. So, I got a lot of messages out there, waiting for callbacks." "Jeez," Jack complained. "I feel like a teenage girl with a new dress, waiting to get asked to the prom." "Sorry," Bart said. "If it's any consolation, we did manage to get a blood sample from Franconi's mother. It's already up in the DNA lab."
"Was the mother asked whether her son had a liver transplant?" "Absolutely," Bard said. "Mrs. Franconi assured the investigator that she didn't know anything about a transplant. But she did admit that her son had been much healthier lately." "To what did she attribute his sudden health?" Jack asked.
"She says he went away to a spa someplace and came back a new man."
"Did she happen to say where?" Jack questioned. "She didn't know," Bart said. "At least that's what she told the investigator, and the investigator told me that she thought she was telling the truth." Jack nodded as he got to his feet. "Figures," he said. "Getting a bona fide tip from the mother would have been much too easy."
"I'll keep you informed as soon as I start getting callbacks," Bart said. "Thanks," Jack said.
Feeling frustrated, Jack walked through communications to the ID room. He thought maybe some coffee would cheer him up. He was surprised to find Lieutenant Detective Lou Soldano busily helping himself to a cup.
"Uh-oh," Lou said. "Caught red-handed." Jack eyed the homicide detective. He looked better than he had in days. Not only was the top button of his shirt buttoned, but his tie was cinched up in place. On top of that, he was close shaven and his hair was combed.
"You look almost human today," Jack said. "I feel that way," Lou said. "I got my first decent night's sleep in days. Where's Laurie?" "In the pit, I presume," Jack said.
"I gotta pat her on the back again for making that association with your floater after watching the video," Lou said. "All of us down at headquarters think it might lead to a break in this case. Already we've gotten a couple of good tips from our informers because it's stimulated a lot of talk in the streets, especially over in Queens."
"Laurie and I were surprised to see it in the papers this morning," Jack commented. "That was a lot faster than we expected. Do you have any idea who was the source?" "I was," Lou said innocently. "But I was careful not to give any details other than the fact that the body had been identified. Why, is there a problem?" "Only that Bingham went mildly ballistic," Jack said. "And I was hauled in as the culprit." "Gosh, I'm sorry," Lou said. "It didn't dawn on me it could cause a problem here. I guess I should have run it by you. Well, I owe you."
"Forget it," Jack said. "It's already patched up." He poured himself some coffee, shoveled in some sugar, and added a dollop of cream.
"At least it had the desired effect on the street," Lou said. "And we learned something important already.
"Did she happen to say where?" Jack questioned. "She didn't know," Bart said. "At least that's what she told the investigator, and the investigator told me that she thought she was telling the truth." Jack nodded as he got to his feet. "Figures," he said. "Getting a bona fide tip from the mother would have been much too easy."
"I'll keep you informed as soon as I start getting callbacks," Bart said. "Thanks," Jack said.
Feeling frustrated, Jack walked through communications to the ID room. He thought maybe some coffee would cheer him up. He was surprised to find Lieutenant Detective Lou Soldano busily helping himself to a cup.
"Uh-oh," Lou said. "Caught red-handed." Jack eyed the homicide detective. He looked better than he had in days. Not only was the top button of his shirt buttoned, but his tie was cinched up in place. On top of that, he was close shaven and his hair was combed.
"You look almost human today," Jack said. "I feel that way," Lou said. "I got my first decent night's sleep in days. Where's Laurie?" "In the pit, I presume," Jack said.
"I gotta pat her on the back again for making that association with your floater after watching the video," Lou said. "All of us down at headquarters think it might lead to a break in this case. Already we've gotten a couple of good tips from our informers because it's stimulated a lot of talk in the streets, especially over in Queens."
"Laurie and I were surprised to see it in the papers this morning," Jack commented. "That was a lot faster than we expected. Do you have any idea who was the source?" "I was," Lou said innocently. "But I was careful not to give any details other than the fact that the body had been identified. Why, is there a problem?" "Only that Bingham went mildly ballistic," Jack said. "And I was hauled in as the culprit." "Gosh, I'm sorry," Lou said. "It didn't dawn on me it could cause a problem here. I guess I should have run it by you. Well, I owe you."
"Forget it," Jack said. "It's already patched up." He poured himself some coffee, shoveled in some sugar, and added a dollop of cream.
"At least it had the desired effect on the street," Lou said. "And we learned something important already.
The people who killed him were definitely not the same people who took his body and mauled it."
"Doesn't surprise me," Jack said.
"No?" Lou questioned. "I thought that was the general consensus around here. At least that's what Laurie said."
"She now thinks the people that took the body did it because they didn't want anyone to know he'd had a liver transplant," Jack said. "I still favor the idea it was done to conceal the individual's identity." "Really," Lou said pensively, sipping his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense to me. You see we're reasonably sure the body was taken on orders from the Lucia crime family, the direct competitors of the Vaccarros, who we understand had Franconi killed." "Good grief!" Jack exclaimed. "Are you sure about that?" "Reasonably," Lou said. "The informer who divulged it is usually reliable. Of course, we don't have any names. That's the frustrating part."
"Just the idea that organized crime is involved is appalling," Jack said. "It means that the Lucia people are somehow involved in organ transplants. If that doesn't make you lose sleep, nothing will." "Calm down!" Raymond yelled into the phone. The moment he'd been about to leave the apartment, the phone had rung. When he heard it was Dr. Daniel Levitz on the line, he'd taken the call. "Don't tell me to calm down!" Daniel shouted back. "You've seen the papers. They have Franconi's body! And already a medical examiner by the name of Dr. Jack Stapleton has been in my office asking for Franconi's records."
"You didn't give them, did you?" Raymond asked. "Of course not!" Daniel snapped. "But he condescendingly reminded me that he could subpoena them. I'm telling you, this guy was very direct and very aggressive, and he vowed to get to the bottom of the case. He suspects Franconi had a transplant. He asked me directly." "Do your records have any information at all about his transplant or our program?" Raymond asked. "No, I followed your suggestions in that regard to the letter," Daniel said. "But it's going to look very strange if anybody looks at my records. After all, I'd been documenting Franconi's deteriorating status for years. Then all of a sudden, his liver function studies are normal without any explanation, nothing! Not even a comment. I'm telling you there'll be questions, and I don't know whether I can handle them. I'm very upset. I wish I'd never gotten involved in all this." "Now let's not get carried away," Raymond said with a calmness that he himself did not feel. "There's no way Stapleton could get to the bottom of the case. Our concern about an autopsy was purely hypothetical and based on an infinitesimally small chance someone with the IQ of Einstein could figure out the source of the transplant. It's not going to happen. But I appreciate your calling me about Dr. Stapleton's visit. As it turns out, I'm on my way this very minute to have a meeting with Vinnie Dominick. With his resources, I'm sure he'll be able to take care of everything. After all, to a large measure, he's responsible for the present situation."
"Doesn't surprise me," Jack said.
"No?" Lou questioned. "I thought that was the general consensus around here. At least that's what Laurie said."
"She now thinks the people that took the body did it because they didn't want anyone to know he'd had a liver transplant," Jack said. "I still favor the idea it was done to conceal the individual's identity." "Really," Lou said pensively, sipping his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense to me. You see we're reasonably sure the body was taken on orders from the Lucia crime family, the direct competitors of the Vaccarros, who we understand had Franconi killed." "Good grief!" Jack exclaimed. "Are you sure about that?" "Reasonably," Lou said. "The informer who divulged it is usually reliable. Of course, we don't have any names. That's the frustrating part."
"Just the idea that organized crime is involved is appalling," Jack said. "It means that the Lucia people are somehow involved in organ transplants. If that doesn't make you lose sleep, nothing will." "Calm down!" Raymond yelled into the phone. The moment he'd been about to leave the apartment, the phone had rung. When he heard it was Dr. Daniel Levitz on the line, he'd taken the call. "Don't tell me to calm down!" Daniel shouted back. "You've seen the papers. They have Franconi's body! And already a medical examiner by the name of Dr. Jack Stapleton has been in my office asking for Franconi's records."
"You didn't give them, did you?" Raymond asked. "Of course not!" Daniel snapped. "But he condescendingly reminded me that he could subpoena them. I'm telling you, this guy was very direct and very aggressive, and he vowed to get to the bottom of the case. He suspects Franconi had a transplant. He asked me directly." "Do your records have any information at all about his transplant or our program?" Raymond asked. "No, I followed your suggestions in that regard to the letter," Daniel said. "But it's going to look very strange if anybody looks at my records. After all, I'd been documenting Franconi's deteriorating status for years. Then all of a sudden, his liver function studies are normal without any explanation, nothing! Not even a comment. I'm telling you there'll be questions, and I don't know whether I can handle them. I'm very upset. I wish I'd never gotten involved in all this." "Now let's not get carried away," Raymond said with a calmness that he himself did not feel. "There's no way Stapleton could get to the bottom of the case. Our concern about an autopsy was purely hypothetical and based on an infinitesimally small chance someone with the IQ of Einstein could figure out the source of the transplant. It's not going to happen. But I appreciate your calling me about Dr. Stapleton's visit. As it turns out, I'm on my way this very minute to have a meeting with Vinnie Dominick. With his resources, I'm sure he'll be able to take care of everything. After all, to a large measure, he's responsible for the present situation."
As soon as he could, Raymond got off the phone. Appeasing Dr. Daniel Levitz wasn't doing anything for
his own anxiety. After advising Darlene what to say in the unlikely chance Taylor Cabot called back, he left the apartment. Catching a taxi at the corner of Madison and Sixty-fourth, he instructed the cabbie how to get to Corona Avenue in Elmhurst. The scene at the Neopolitan Restaurant was exactly the same as it had been the day before, with the addition of the stale smell of a couple of hundred more cigarettes. Vinnie Dominick was sitting in the same booth and his minions were lounging on the same bar stools. The obese bearded man was again busily washing glassware.
Raymond lost no time. After coming through the heavy red velvet drape at the door, he made a beeline for Vinnie's booth and slid in without invitation. He pushed forward the crumpled newspaper, which he'd painstakingly smoothed out, across the table. Vinnie gazed down at the headlines nonchalantly. "As you can see, there's a problem," Raymond said. "You promised me the body was gone. Obviously, you screwed up."
Vinnie picked up his cigarette, took a long drag, then blew the smoke at the ceiling. "Doc," Vinnie said. "You never fail but to amaze me. You either have a lot of nerve or you're crazy. I don't tolerate this kind of disrespect even from my trusted lieutenants. Either you reword what you just said to me or get up and get yourself lost before I get really pissed." Raymond swallowed hard while he got a finger between his neck and his shirt and adjusted his collar. Remembering to whom he was speaking gave him a chill. A mere nod from Vinnie Dominick could find him bobbing around in the East River.
"I'm sorry," Raymond said meekly. "I'm not myself. I'm very upset. After I saw the headlines, I got a call from the CEO of GenSys, threatening the whole program. I also got a call from Franconi's doctor, who told me he'd been approached by one of the medical examiners. An ME named Jack Stapleton dropped by his office wanting to see Franconi's records." "Angelo!" Vinnie called out. "Come over here!" Angelo ambled over to the booth. Vinnie asked him if he knew a Dr. Jack Stapleton at the morgue. Angelo shook his head.
"I've never seen him," Angelo said. "But Vinnie Amendola mentioned him when he called this morning. He said Stapleton was all fired up about Franconi because Franconi is his case." "You see, I've gotten a few calls myself," Vinnie said. "Not only did I get a call from Vinnie Amendola who's still sweating it because we leaned on him to help us get Franconi out of the morgue. I also got another call from my wife's brother who runs the funeral home that took the body out. Seems that Dr. Laurie Montgomery paid a visit and was asking about a body that doesn't exist." "I'm sorry that this has all gone so badly," Raymond said. "You and me both," Vinnie said. "To tell you the truth, I can't understand how they got the body back. We went to some effort knowing the ground was too hard to bury it out in Westchester. So we took it
his own anxiety. After advising Darlene what to say in the unlikely chance Taylor Cabot called back, he left the apartment. Catching a taxi at the corner of Madison and Sixty-fourth, he instructed the cabbie how to get to Corona Avenue in Elmhurst. The scene at the Neopolitan Restaurant was exactly the same as it had been the day before, with the addition of the stale smell of a couple of hundred more cigarettes. Vinnie Dominick was sitting in the same booth and his minions were lounging on the same bar stools. The obese bearded man was again busily washing glassware.
Raymond lost no time. After coming through the heavy red velvet drape at the door, he made a beeline for Vinnie's booth and slid in without invitation. He pushed forward the crumpled newspaper, which he'd painstakingly smoothed out, across the table. Vinnie gazed down at the headlines nonchalantly. "As you can see, there's a problem," Raymond said. "You promised me the body was gone. Obviously, you screwed up."
Vinnie picked up his cigarette, took a long drag, then blew the smoke at the ceiling. "Doc," Vinnie said. "You never fail but to amaze me. You either have a lot of nerve or you're crazy. I don't tolerate this kind of disrespect even from my trusted lieutenants. Either you reword what you just said to me or get up and get yourself lost before I get really pissed." Raymond swallowed hard while he got a finger between his neck and his shirt and adjusted his collar. Remembering to whom he was speaking gave him a chill. A mere nod from Vinnie Dominick could find him bobbing around in the East River.
"I'm sorry," Raymond said meekly. "I'm not myself. I'm very upset. After I saw the headlines, I got a call from the CEO of GenSys, threatening the whole program. I also got a call from Franconi's doctor, who told me he'd been approached by one of the medical examiners. An ME named Jack Stapleton dropped by his office wanting to see Franconi's records." "Angelo!" Vinnie called out. "Come over here!" Angelo ambled over to the booth. Vinnie asked him if he knew a Dr. Jack Stapleton at the morgue. Angelo shook his head.
"I've never seen him," Angelo said. "But Vinnie Amendola mentioned him when he called this morning. He said Stapleton was all fired up about Franconi because Franconi is his case." "You see, I've gotten a few calls myself," Vinnie said. "Not only did I get a call from Vinnie Amendola who's still sweating it because we leaned on him to help us get Franconi out of the morgue. I also got another call from my wife's brother who runs the funeral home that took the body out. Seems that Dr. Laurie Montgomery paid a visit and was asking about a body that doesn't exist." "I'm sorry that this has all gone so badly," Raymond said. "You and me both," Vinnie said. "To tell you the truth, I can't understand how they got the body back. We went to some effort knowing the ground was too hard to bury it out in Westchester. So we took it
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