10
MARCH 25, 2010
THURSDAY, 2:30 p.m.
THURSDAY, 2:30 p.m.
Laurie took off her coat and hung it on the
back of her office door, then pushed the door closed. At least for
a while she wanted to be out of contact with the rest of the world.
She’d just returned from a rather rowdy lunch in her honor at a
nearby restaurant called the Waterfront Ale House. Feeling as she
did, she would have preferred not to have gone, but she couldn’t
refuse, since the lunch was celebrating her return to work, and
Jack had been the organizer. Most of the MEs had shown up, filled
with good cheer and laughter. For Laurie it had been exhausting to
act as happy as everyone else. The day was not going nearly as well
as she’d hoped, with only one case with no identity and no cause or
manner of death. And she couldn’t stop thinking about JJ and
Leticia. Laurie had stopped calling when Leticia asked, saying
Laurie was interfering with her ability to pay adequate attention
to JJ. “If there’s the slightest problem, I’ll call you,” Leticia
had insisted earlier. “Please relax and do your work. Everything is
going to be fine.”
Laurie sat down at her spotlessly clean desk. She
stared at the phone for a moment. “Screw it!” she said abruptly,
then angrily punched in Leticia’s number. “Nobody’s going to tell
me I can’t call about my child!”
The phone rang more times than Laurie expected and
caused instant alarm, compounded by Leticia being out of breath
when she finally answered. “Sorry,” Leticia said. “I was pushing JJ
up a steep hill when the phone began to ring. I wanted to make it
to the top.”
“Sounds like you two are in the park,” Laurie said
with a combination of guilt and relief.
“You got that right. He loves it, and it couldn’t
be a nicer day.”
“Sorry to be a bother,” Laurie said.
Leticia didn’t respond.
“Everything okay?”
“Everything is just fine,” Leticia answered.
“Did he have his lunch?”
“No, I’m denying him food and water,” Leticia said,
then laughed. “Just kidding. He ate a big lunch and now he’s
sleeping. He couldn’t be better. Now get back to work.”
“Aye, aye, madam,” Laurie said.
After a few more parting comments, Laurie hung up
the handset.
Then she looked at her desk and noted again the
lack of reminders about pending cases. All there was was the single
case file of her unidentified patient. She pondered how little she
knew of the man and how sad it was that he was all alone in the
cooler downstairs. She wondered where his wife was, and if she
missed him. Laurie chewed her cheek and tried to think if there was
some way to learn anything more, anything at all about her lonely,
unidentified corpse.
Suddenly she snatched up the case folder and dumped
out its contents to find Cheryl’s note. What she was suddenly
interested in was the time of the 911 call. After she found it,
five-thirty-seven p.m., she turned on her monitor and searched
through her address book for the 911 call center out in Brooklyn.
With a mind-set of excitement, which she tried to suppress, she
dialed and asked to be connected to her old contact, Cynthia
Bellows.
When she got Cynthia’s voicemail, she left a
message, then gave Detective Ron Steadman another try. If he was
still resistant, she’d go to Lou Soldano. She imagined that Lou,
having recently made captain, could certainly light a fire under
the man.
To Laurie’s surprise, he answered after a couple of
rings and sounded like a different man—maybe not much friendlier
but significantly more awake. Laurie reintroduced herself and asked
if he remembered her from her call that morning.
“Vaguely,” Ron said. “What was it about?”
“An unidentified Asian corpse from the Fifty-ninth
Street station that came in last evening.”
“Now I remember! You were giving me a hard time
about not rushing out and single-handedly solving the identity
crisis. What’s up? Did someone suddenly show up and make the
ID?”
“I wish,” Laurie said. “No ID yet, so I thought I’d
view the tapes from the subway platform cameras.”
Ron did not respond immediately. Then, with some
exasperation, he said, “Why would you want me to have to call
around for tapes on a natural-death case, especially one that’s not
yet twenty-four hours old? That’s a lot of work for nothing if a
family member shows up in the next couple of hours.”
“How do I get copies of the tapes, or whatever form
they come in?” Laurie persisted. She heard Ron take in a deep
breath.
“You really want to go through with this?”
“I do. The nine-one-one caller said the victim
might have had a seizure, but he wasn’t certain. It would be
important to confirm it. It would point toward a neurological cause
of death rather than a circulatory cause, meaning we’d look harder
at the brain even though on gross there was nothing.”
“Jesus, lady . . .” Ron began.
“The name is Laurie Stapleton,” Laurie
interrupted.
“I got a hundred-plus cases here on my desk that
are all unsolved and that need my attention. This really isn’t the
best use of my time—the case isn’t even a day old.”
“How much work effort does it take?” Laurie
questioned, hoping not to be denied.
“I got to get in touch with officers at the
Brooklyn Special Investigation Unit and tell them what I
need.”
“Okay,” Laurie said. “Is that it?”
“I suppose,” Ron said, a bit embarrassed at how
simple Laurie’s request really was.
“How do you get the information?”
“As an e-mail. I’ll burn a disk or two for you.
It’s a lot of data.”
“Could you just forward it as an e-mail attachment
to me?”
“I know it sounds funny, but I’m not permitted to
do that. But I can give you a disk if you’re who you say you
are.”
“When could you do it?”
“Now, if I reach the right people. What period of
time at the subway station are you looking for?”
“I guess about a half-hour centered on the
nine-one-one call at five-thirty-seven p.m., so let’s say five-ten
to five-fifty-five.”
“Okay,” Ron said. “All nine cameras?”
“Might as well be thorough.”
“That’s over six hours of watching time. Are you up
to it?”
“Funny you should ask. I happen to have a lot of
time on my hands. How soon would you have it in hand?”
“Let me make the call to the Transit Bureau Special
Investigation Unit. I’ll knock it right out as soon as they send it
to me. Maybe within the hour.”
“My goodness,” Laurie commented. She’d found over
the years that city servants were never quite so accommodating. Ron
had gone from one extreme to the other.
“I’ll call you right back. Is it a deal?”
“Absolutely,” Laurie said, but before hanging up,
she added, “I hope you don’t take offense, but you’re a different
person than you were this morning, and it’s meant as a
compliment.”
“This morning you caught me before coffee and my
Red Bull.”
No sooner had Laurie disconnected when the phone
rang. Picking it back up, she found herself talking with Cynthia
Bellows out at the 911 call center. After some small talk, Laurie
described the details of the case and said she’d like to contact
the 911 caller.
“Do you have the time of the call?” Cynthia asked.
“That makes it a lot easier.”
Laurie gave the time.
“Okay, I got it here on the screen,” Cynthia said,
“and let’s see what we have. Actually, we have three calls, though
I suppose you want only the first. The other two callers were told
that the incident had already been reported and that police and the
EMT had been dispatched.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Laurie said. As Laurie
reached for a pen and paper, she heard the click of her
call-waiting. Excusing herself and asking Cynthia to hold on for a
moment, Laurie changed lines, and as she had expected, it was
Ron.
“Good news, my friend,” Ron said. “I got right
through to the guys at the Special Investigation Unit. Apparently,
there are two more cameras besides the nine of the new security
system. For the old system, that includes the two nonrecording
cameras used for the train’s engineer and conductor to make sure
all doors are clear, plus two more recording cameras at the fare
booth and at the elevator.”
Feeling anxious about Cynthia hanging on the other
line, Laurie interrupted Ron and asked if she could call him right
back.
“No need,” Ron said. “I just wanted to let you know
there’d be two additional feeds. I should have the material in a
few minutes, and I’ll have the disks burned so you can come get
them any time you want.”
“Terrific,” Laurie said. “Your precinct is on West
Fifty-fourth Street?”
“Three-oh-six West Fifty-fourth. I’ll see you when
I see you. I’ll be here until five.”
Laurie thanked Ron profusely, then switched back to
Cynthia, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry,” Laurie began.
“No problem,” Cynthia said graciously. “Do you have
something to write on?”
The caller’s name was Robert Delacroix. After
thanking Cynthia and disconnecting, Laurie dialed Robert Delacroix
immediately. While waiting for the call to go through, she wrote
the number on a three-by-five card and added it to the case file.
When she got his outgoing message, she left her cell phone number
with the request that he call her back as soon as possible. She
explained that she was a medical examiner but was leaving her
mobile number, not her office number, as she was on her way to the
police station.
With that taken care of, Laurie headed outside to
catch a cab for the Midtown North to meet up with Ron. While she
sat in traffic, Laurie’s mind turned to JJ and how well he was
apparently doing in Leticia’s care. Suddenly her mobile phone rang.
It was Robert Delacroix.
Laurie thanked the man for calling and thanked him
also for acting as a responsible citizen and making the 911 call in
the first place. “Too many New Yorkers are capable of just walking
past someone in distress,” Laurie continued.
“At first I assumed someone had already called,
like I guess a lot of people generally think. But then I said,
Hell, there’s no reason why not to call even if I’m not the
first.”
“As I mentioned on your voicemail, I’m a medical
examiner,” Laurie said.
“I guess the man on the subway platform
died.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“That’s too bad. He looked young.”
“Can I ask you exactly what you saw?”
“Well, it wasn’t much. I mean, it all happened so
quickly. The train had been delayed, and the platform was really
crowded. When the doors opened, there was a surge forward, making
it difficult for the people trying to get off the train.”
“So there was a little pushing and shoving.”
“I’d say a lot of pushing and shoving. Anyway, out
of the corner of my eye, no more than three or four feet away, I
saw this Asian man, he was kinda bucking, like his head was going
back and forth.”
“You thought he was having a seizure or
something—at least that’s what you said.”
“That’s how I described it to the operator. I said
to myself, It’s so damn crowded the man is having a seizure and he
can’t even fall down. I mean, we were all packed together and
pushing forward because everyone was afraid they weren’t going to
get on the train.”
“I get the picture,” Laurie said. “Did you try to
help?”
“Not really. He was to my left at that point. I’m
not even sure I could have gotten to him if I’d tried. I was being
pushed ahead by the people behind me. And to be truthful, I thought
the people right next to him were attempting to help. In fact, when
I got to the train’s door, I tried to look back. At first I
couldn’t even see him because he wasn’t all that tall.”
“We’re here, lady,” the cabdriver said, looking at
Laurie in the rearview mirror.
“Can you hold on?” Laurie asked Robert, a little
flustered at her predicament. “I’m in a taxi and have to pay and
get out.”
“I can wait,” Robert assured her.
Laurie paid the driver and climbed from the cab to
stand in front of the Midtown North Precinct, its flag snapping in
the breeze and a bevy of cop cars parked every which way.
“I’m back,” Laurie said. “You were saying
...”
“I was saying that as I was boarding, I got a
fleeting look at the man lying on the platform. Standing by him
were two other Asians. But it was truly fleeting, because I was
looking through a bunch of other riders pushing to get on the
train, some of whom didn’t make it. I was also getting my cell
phone out.”
“At that time, did it look like the man was still
seizing?”
“It happened so fast, with such a limited view, but
if I had to guess, I’d say no. I was also dialing the nine-one-one
operator to get the call in before the doors closed, and I lost the
little signal I had.”
“Look,” Laurie said. “I really appreciate your
being willing to talk with me. You have my number if anything else
comes to mind, anything at all.”
“I will,” Robert said. “Actually, now that you’ve
made me relive the moment, I feel guilty at having boarded the
train. Maybe I should have tried a little harder to see if I could
have helped.”
“Don’t torture yourself,” Laurie said. “You made a
nine-one-one call so medical help could arrive.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
Laurie disconnected her call and then climbed the
steps into the busy precinct.