Imagine what wed find if we could see everything, Manny commented. Too bad the Freedom of Information Act doesnt mean what it says. She looked at Jake. He was frowning, preoccupied. What is it?
Im remembering Pete. He testified for the army in the case of a doctor accused of using curare on his patients, five of whom died. Harrigan was called by the prosecution. But under cross examination by the defense, he surprisingly said he didnt think the curare caused the deaths. He later told me something I consider gospel: Science doesnt take sides. The doctor was acquitted. It says here that curare was one of the drugs the government used in experiments.
No matter how angry you are, no matter how much it
looks
like there were secret experiments performed at Turner, we still need scientific evidence.
She curtsied. Yes, your lordship.
They worked through the afternoon, Jake leaving only for a while, to make a brief visit to Sam. They found nothing that directly related to Turner. Jakes cell phone rang. Manny couldnt overhear the conversation, but Jake seemed pleased. He stood. Commissioner Melody said I could go back home later today. Theres a mason coming to fix the wall at five. It wont be habitable, but Ill get some fresh clothes and pick you up for dinner around seven-thirty. Okay?
She smiled to hide a spasm of alarm.
Ill be alone. Everyone I pass, everyone I talk to, will seem threatening now.
Id like to meet you there instead. See that they put your house back right. Well eat dinner in your neighborhood then go back to my place.
I like her place, Jake thought. Sounds good.
* * *
Its as if nothing ever happened here, thought Manny, walking up the steps to the brownstone. The hole had been bricked in, the damaged cars had been removed, the air was clear of smoke, the street was quiet.
Jake opened the door before she had a chance to knock. Looking for me out the window? she asked.
As a matter of fact, I was looking for anyone who might be looking for you. Melody released my building as a crime scene and removed the guards. This place is unprotected.
She fought back an impulse to turn and run. Then come home with me. My building has a doorman. Well be safer there.
Give me half an hour.
Why? Arent you scared?
Well be safe in the cellar.
The
cellar
?
When I saw Sam today by the way, hes okay and will be out of Lenox Hill in a day or two he told me he made the sheriff wait outside for a few extra minutes before removing Harrigans items. As he was on the phone with me, he saw a box that caught his eye. Pete had written my name on it, so he figured it contained things he wanted me to have mementos from our days together. So he put the box next to the safe, under the autopsy aprons. I want to go through it before we leave.
Sometimes he can be infuriating. Were in danger, and he wants to go through
mementos? Cant it wait?
Maybe it isnt just mementos. There may be something in it we need, some clue as to what Pete wanted to share with me before he died.
Why not take the box with us?
Too dangerous. Someone could be watching us even now. Besides, you want to walk into a restaurant carrying specimen jars?
Stubborn but cute.
Okay, lets get it over with.
* * *
The light in the cellar was harsh, reminding Manny of the autopsy room at Baxter Community Hospital. Jake put on a pair of gloves, pried open the box, and lifted out an opaque plastic container. Manny leaned in to read the label:
Specimen 2005, Adam Gardiner. ALCOHOLISM. TUBERCULOSIS. HIV/AIDS. Skin from anterior right thigh. Male, age 41. Date of autopsy 1-29-2005.
Strange, Jake said. This is the name of someone who died decades ago, a case Pete and I were discussing when I last saw him alive. He screwed open the top.
Manny jumped back. Whats that smell? And what are those little creatures floating in the fluid?
He reverted to professor mode. The smells formaldehyde, and the creatures are maggots. Most people hate them, but God must like them he made so many. Forensic scientists love them because they tell us a lot about decedents: what they were eating, time of death, what drugs they were taking, even their DNA. Its pretty simple you can grind them up in any kitchen blender and then do any laboratory tests needed.
I think thats disgusting.
The hands that touched me last night touched maggots? I have to get over that?
Why arent they dead if theyve been in formaldehyde?
For one thing, formaldehyde kills the bacteria that would normally kill maggots. Thats the reason its such a good preservative. For years, many brands of womens nail polish contained formaldehyde.
Manny looked at her once perfectly manicured fingers.
Formaldehyde?
Charming picture, maggots in a blender. Remind me to bring my own Waring over if ever I should cook here in the future now that I know what you do with yours.
Still, Jake said, its a peculiar thing for him to leave for me. Unless
His hands are trembling.
Manny, about to make some wisecrack, changed her mind. Unless what?
Unless he was hiding something he wanted me, and only me, to find after he died.
So he picked a place so disgusting no one else would look in it?
Precisely.
He was right. Only people named Jake or Damien would want to put a hand in there, even though gloved. Jakes gloved hand was already in. Manny turned away.
Ive got it! His dripping hand emerged from the container holding a waterproof bag with an envelope inside it.
Is it alive? Manny asked, her head still averted.
Its a manila envelope. Look.
She turned back. Jake had opened the bag and withdrawn the envelope.
Whats in it?
Ill tell you in a minute. Jakes name was written on the envelope. It was definitely meant for me. Thats Petes handwriting.
Manny wished she shared Jakes excitement.
It wont relate to Turner. Probably has to do with a case they shared.
Open it.
Jake already had. Inside was a photograph and a folded piece of paper. He handed the picture to Manny and unfolded the paper. Theres something stamped on the top. He squinted. PROPERTY OF THE PSYCHOANALYTIC ACADEMIE FOR THE BETTERMENT OF LIFE.
Now Mannys hands were shaking. Excitement buzzed in her bloodstream like electricity. Yes! Lorna told me I was the second person to visit the Academie. I didnt think anything of it at the time. But Harrigan must have been the first.
Its a dental chart, Jake said, his voice full of wonder, signed by dental students from Columbia. Renko was right. They were apprentices. Timothy Iras and Martin Lowell. He could barely breathe. They performed four fillings at Turner: November and December, 1963. The patients name was Isabella de la Schallier, DOB 13 July 1945. Manny, the mandible showed four fillings. It cant be a coincidence. This is
her
chart. The woman. Skeleton Four.
Shock hit Manny with the force of a bomb blast.
Isabella de la Schallier. I d la S. The initials on the wall in the Solitude Room. Harrigan found her bones!
But if thats true, it means
Jake looked at her, his eyes dark with understanding. Pete Harrigan knew the name of Skeleton Four but said nothing about it. He shook his head, as though to rid it of demons. Whats in the photograph?
Manny looked at it for the first time. Its a picture of a picnic at Turner from the
Baxter County Daily Gazette.
I saw one like it when I went through the files at the Academie. There seem to be doctors and patients out for a stroll. Why would Harrigan hide something like that?
Let me see it. Jake practically snatched the clipping from her hand to hold it under the light. His shoulders slumped and he covered his face with his hands. I cant believe it.
What?
Tell me!
Jake pointed to a young doctor walking by the side of a young woman. Thats Pete in the picture. Pete was at Turner.
He was there!
And the patient, Manny whispered, as sure of this as she was of any hard evidence she had ever used in a trial, is Isabella de la Schallier.
WELL, Lorna Meissen knows who I am, said Manny, standing with Jake in front of a thin middle-aged woman who was guarding the reception desk as if it contained gold. I was here early last week looking at the archives of the Turner Psychiatric Hospital.
Im sorry, Ms. Manfreda, but without written approval from our director, Mr. Parklandius, no one is allowed access to our records.
I went through this last time, maam, with Ms. Meissen. You are a designated governmental repository for public documents. I am entitled as a member of the public to see them.
Not anymore, Ms. Manfreda, and Ms. Meissen is no longer in our employ.
Cruella DeVille.
We have a new directive, confirmed by our lawyers, that all patient records, no matter how old, are confidential. None can be released without an authorization from the patient or a ruling from the Privacy Board in Washington, D.C.
But the records have been public a long time.
Thats irrelevant. Archival records are now subject to privacy laws. As a lawyer, you should know that.
I know nothing of the sort.
Dont hit her.
Perhaps Mr. Parklandius can straighten this out, Jake said benignly. Is he here?
Im afraid not. Her desk phone rang. She listened to the caller silently, then reddened. It seems Mr. Parklandius
is
in. Hes expecting you in the reading room.
The ride up in the open elevator cage was as eerie to Manny as the last. She clutched the same Vuitton bag she had carried then as though it were a buoy. The papers she had borrowed were inside. Wonder how he knew we were here, she said. And how they knew I was a lawyer.
Jake grinned. Lawyers have a special odor, even you. I can smell one coming from fifty feet.
She elbowed him in the ribs. Youre a fine one to talk about smells. Why Parklandiuss change of heart, do you think?
Because he found out you were a
good
lawyer?
Or because he knows what youll do to his corpse if I kill him.
They walked past the closed door of Mr. Parklandiuss office and entered the reading room. It was empty, but the same files Manny had looked through before were again set out on the table. Jake opened the file for 1964 and riffled through it. Heres the picture of the picnic, he said, comparing the one Pete had left for him, only its been cropped. Pete and the woman arent in it.
Mysterious, Manny said. Somebody must have known Harrigan took the original and substituted the cropped one. Too bad theres no photo credit. We might be able to lay our hands on an eyewitness.
A tall lanky man with graying hair and yellow-tinted glasses marched into the room. Ms. Manfreda, Dr. Rosen, so nice of you to visit. He did not extend his hand. Im Charles Parklandius.
How did you know my name? Jake asked.
You were on the front page of the paper yesterday. You see, your notoriety has reached as far as Poughkeepsie. There was no friendliness in his manner. As for you, Ms. Manfreda, the board voted last night to authorize me to ask the police to issue a warrant for your arrest.
She stared at him. He avoided her eyes. Arrest? Whatever for?
Theft. Theres a picture missing from our files: a photograph from the
Baxter County Daily Gazette.
Another had been substituted, but its been cropped, and we want the original back.
Jake extended the picture. Ms. Manfreda didnt take it, he said. The photograph was found among the belongings of Dr. Peter Harrigan, the former chief medical examiner for New York City who died at his home in Turner two weeks ago. We are returning it to you.
Its true I took an architectural plan when I was last here, Manny said, opening her tote bag. I did so inadvertently, and I apologize. She placed it on the table. Call off the cops.
