heavy five-o'clock shadow. It was apparent he'd not been to bed that night.
"Considering the reporters out in reception, I suppose we shouldn't be surprised to see you," Jack said. "How the hell are you, Lou?"
"As good as can be expected after spending most of the night out in the harbor. It's not something I'd recommend."
Lou had been Laurie's friend initially. Laurie and Lou had even dated after solving a case together, but their brief romance hadn't worked out. When Jack had come on the scene and ended up dating Laurie, Lou had been a strong advocate of their relationship. He'd even been part of their wedding the previous June. They were all good friends.
Laurie went to Lou and briefly touched cheeks before heading to the coffeepot.
Jack sat in a club chair next to Lou's and elevated his bum leg on the corner of the desk. Laurie called out to ask if Jack wanted any coffee. Jack gave her a thumbs-up sign.
"What's up?" Jack asked Lou. Since Lou had become a strong advocate of the contribution medical forensics played in homicide cases, he was a frequent visitor to the morgue, although he hadn't been there for more than a month. From experience, Jack knew that when he did come, there was a high probability it would be an interesting case. The previous day, Jack had had three routine autopsies, two natural deaths and one accidental. There'd been little challenge. Lou's presence augured that things might be different.
"It's been a busy night," Lou said. "There are three homicides I need help with. From my perspective, the most important one is a floater that we hauled out of the Hudson River."
"Do you have an ID on the victim?" Jack asked. Laurie came over and put Jack's coffee mug down. He mouthed a thank-you.
"Nope, not a clue, at least so far."
"Are you sure it was a homicide?"
"Absolutely. He was shot in the back of the head at close range with a small-caliber bullet."
"Sounds straightforward from a medical forensics point of view," Jack said with some disappointment.
"But not from mine," Lou said. "The body is that of a well-dressed Asian man, not some street person. What scares me is that this might be an organized crime-related hit. We know there's been some friction between the established crime syndicates and some up-and-coming Asian, Russian, and Hispanic gangs, particularly in regard to recreational drugs. If some kind of crime war over territory breaks out, a lot of innocent people get killed. I'm hoping you or Laurie could find something, some kind of break so we can nip this in the bud, before all hell breaks loose."
"I'll do my best," Jack said. "What else?"
"The next one's a sad story. A detective sergeant in Special Fraud, and a good guy, has a daughter who has been arrested for killing her good-for-nothing boyfriend with a baseball bat last night. His name is Satan Thomas, if you can believe it. She's been a disaster for the detective since she was a preteen, always hooking up with the dregs for boyfriends and into drugs and you name it. Anyhow, she denies killing the guy and says the boyfriend was using the baseball bat to trash the apartment. She even claims he came after her, which he'd done in the past. By the way, Satan's delightful family is camped out in the waiting room."
"You mean he'd been physically abusive to her."
"Apparently. She claims that when she fled, he was still busting up the place."
"Did it look like he died of blunt trauma?"
"Oh, yeah! I'm afraid it looks like he got bashed in the forehead with the bat."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Sounds bad for your detective friend, and even more so for the daughter." Jack felt depressed. Two out of three autopsies were going to be straightforward. Reluctantly, he asked for the details on the third case.
"This one is similar to the last, but it's the girl who got whacked. She, too, was in an abusive relationship, according to her parents, the Barlows, who are also still in the waiting room. Apparently, Sara Barlow and her boyfriend got
"Considering the reporters out in reception, I suppose we shouldn't be surprised to see you," Jack said. "How the hell are you, Lou?"
"As good as can be expected after spending most of the night out in the harbor. It's not something I'd recommend."
Lou had been Laurie's friend initially. Laurie and Lou had even dated after solving a case together, but their brief romance hadn't worked out. When Jack had come on the scene and ended up dating Laurie, Lou had been a strong advocate of their relationship. He'd even been part of their wedding the previous June. They were all good friends.
Laurie went to Lou and briefly touched cheeks before heading to the coffeepot.
Jack sat in a club chair next to Lou's and elevated his bum leg on the corner of the desk. Laurie called out to ask if Jack wanted any coffee. Jack gave her a thumbs-up sign.
"What's up?" Jack asked Lou. Since Lou had become a strong advocate of the contribution medical forensics played in homicide cases, he was a frequent visitor to the morgue, although he hadn't been there for more than a month. From experience, Jack knew that when he did come, there was a high probability it would be an interesting case. The previous day, Jack had had three routine autopsies, two natural deaths and one accidental. There'd been little challenge. Lou's presence augured that things might be different.
"It's been a busy night," Lou said. "There are three homicides I need help with. From my perspective, the most important one is a floater that we hauled out of the Hudson River."
"Do you have an ID on the victim?" Jack asked. Laurie came over and put Jack's coffee mug down. He mouthed a thank-you.
"Nope, not a clue, at least so far."
"Are you sure it was a homicide?"
"Absolutely. He was shot in the back of the head at close range with a small-caliber bullet."
"Sounds straightforward from a medical forensics point of view," Jack said with some disappointment.
"But not from mine," Lou said. "The body is that of a well-dressed Asian man, not some street person. What scares me is that this might be an organized crime-related hit. We know there's been some friction between the established crime syndicates and some up-and-coming Asian, Russian, and Hispanic gangs, particularly in regard to recreational drugs. If some kind of crime war over territory breaks out, a lot of innocent people get killed. I'm hoping you or Laurie could find something, some kind of break so we can nip this in the bud, before all hell breaks loose."
"I'll do my best," Jack said. "What else?"
"The next one's a sad story. A detective sergeant in Special Fraud, and a good guy, has a daughter who has been arrested for killing her good-for-nothing boyfriend with a baseball bat last night. His name is Satan Thomas, if you can believe it. She's been a disaster for the detective since she was a preteen, always hooking up with the dregs for boyfriends and into drugs and you name it. Anyhow, she denies killing the guy and says the boyfriend was using the baseball bat to trash the apartment. She even claims he came after her, which he'd done in the past. By the way, Satan's delightful family is camped out in the waiting room."
"You mean he'd been physically abusive to her."
"Apparently. She claims that when she fled, he was still busting up the place."
"Did it look like he died of blunt trauma?"
"Oh, yeah! I'm afraid it looks like he got bashed in the forehead with the bat."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Sounds bad for your detective friend, and even more so for the daughter." Jack felt depressed. Two out of three autopsies were going to be straightforward. Reluctantly, he asked for the details on the third case.
"This one is similar to the last, but it's the girl who got whacked. She, too, was in an abusive relationship, according to her parents, the Barlows, who are also still in the waiting room. Apparently, Sara Barlow and her boyfriend got
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