8:55 p.m., Monday
Manhattan
Lou pulled into the morgue loading dock and parked his car to the side. There was only one van in the drive instead of the usual two, so he could have pulled right up to the entrance, but figuring the other van would be back soon, he didn’t want to be in the way.
He put his police identification card on the dash and got out. Lou could have kicked himself for pushing Laurie as he had on the phone. When was he going to learn to back off? Criticizing Jordan was sure only to make her more defensive about the man. He must have really set her off this time. He could understand why she hadn’t picked up the phone when he’d called back, but even if she was mad he would have thought she’d have called him back. When she hadn’t gotten back to him after half an hour, Lou decided to head over to the medical examiner’s office to talk to her in person. He hoped she hadn’t left.
Lou passed the security office and glanced in through the window. He was a little surprised to see that no one was there, but he assumed that the security guard was making his rounds. Farther down the hall, Lou checked the mortuary office, but it was empty as well.
Lou scratched his head. The place seemed deserted. It was dead quiet, he thought with a laugh. He checked his watch. It wasn’t that late, and wasn’t this place supposed to be open around the clock? After all, people died twenty-four hours a day. With a shrug of his shoulders, Lou walked to the elevators and rode up to Laurie’s floor.
As soon as he stepped off the elevator he could tell that she wasn’t there. Her door was closed and the room was dark. But he wasn’t about to give up. Not yet. He remembered her having said something about some laboratory results. Lou decided to see if he could find the right lab and maybe then Laurie. He took the elevator down one floor, unsure of where to find the appropriate lab. At the end of the fourth-floor hall he saw a light. Lou walked the length of the hall and peered in the open door.
“Excuse me,” he said to the youthful man in a white lab coat stooped over one of the room’s major pieces of heavy equipment.
Peter looked up.
“I’m looking for Laurie Montgomery,” Lou said.
“You and everyone else,” Peter said. “I don’t know where she is now, but half an hour ago she went down to the morgue to look at a body in the walk-in cooler.”
“Someone else been looking for her?” Lou asked.
“Yeah,” Peter said. “Two men I’d never seen before.”
“Thanks,” Lou said. He turned back toward the elevator and hustled down the hall. He didn’t like the sound of two strangers looking for Laurie, not after what she’d said about two alleged plainclothes policemen coming to her apartment.
Lou went straight to the morgue level. Exiting the elevator, he was surprised he still hadn’t seen a soul besides the guy in the lab. With growing concern, he hurried down the long hall to the walk-in cooler. Finding its door partially ajar only added to his unease.
With mounting dread he pulled the door the rest of the way open. What he saw was far worse than he could have imagined. Inside the cooler, bodies were strewn helter-skelter. Two gurneys were tipped on their sides. Several of the sheets covering the bodies had been pulled aside. Even after a few days’ experience in the autopsy room, he still didn’t have the stomach for this. And whatever had happened to Laurie, this body-strewn battleground was hardly an auspicious sign.
Lou spotted a purse among the wreckage. Pushing gurneys aside, he picked it up to check for ID. He snapped open the wallet. The first thing he saw was Laurie’s photo on her driver’s license.
As he rushed from the cooler, Lou’s concern turned to fear, especially if his current theory about all the gangland-style murders was correct. Frantically he looked for someone, anyone. There was always someone available at the morgue. Seeing the light in the main autopsy room, he ran down to it and pushed open the doors, but no one was there either.
Turning around, Lou dashed back to the security office to use the phone. Entering the room, he immediately saw the guard’s body on the floor. He knelt down and rolled the man over. The man’s unseeing eyes stared up at him. There was a bullet hole in his forehead. Lou checked for a pulse, but there wasn’t any. The man was dead.
Standing up, Lou snatched up the phone and dialed 911. As soon as an operator answered he identified himself as Lieutenant Lou Soldano and requested a homicide unit for the city morgue. He added that the victim was in the security office but that he would not be able to wait for the unit to arrive.
Slamming the phone down, Lou raced to the morgue loading dock and jumped into his car. Starting the engine, he backed up with a screech of his tires, leaving two lines of rubber on the morgue’s driveway. He had no other choice than to head directly for Paul Cerino’s. It was cards-on-the-table time. He slapped his emergency light on the car’s roof and arrived at Cerino’s Queens address after twenty-three minutes of hair-raising driving.
Racing up the front steps of the Cerino home, he reached into his shoulder holster and unsnapped the leather band securing his .38 Smith and Wesson Detective Special. He rang the bell impatiently. Judging by all the lights blazing, someone had to be home.
Lou knew that he was operating on a hunch that depended on his theory about the gangland slayings being correct. But at the moment it was all he had, and his intuition told him that time was of the utmost importance.
An overhead light came on above Lou’s head. Then he had the feeling that someone was looking at him through the peephole. Finally the door opened. Gloria was standing there dressed in one of her plain housedresses.
“Lou!” Gloria said pleasantly. “What brings you here?”
Lou shoved past her and into the house. “Where’s Paul?” he demanded. He looked into the living room, where Gregory and Steven were watching TV.
“What’s the matter?” Gloria asked.
“I have to talk with Paul. Where is he?”
“He’s not here,” Gloria said. “Is there something wrong?”
“Something’s very wrong,” Lou said. “Do you know where Paul is?”
“I’m not positive,” Gloria said. “But I heard him on the phone with Dr. Travino. I think he said something about going down to the company.”
“You mean at the pier?” Lou asked.
Gloria nodded. “Is he in danger?” Gloria asked. Lou’s distress was infectious.
Lou was already half out the door. Calling over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll take care of it.”
Back in his car, Lou started the engine and made a sweeping U-turn in the middle of the street. As he accelerated he caught sight of Gloria standing on her stoop, anxiously clutching her hands to her chest.
Laurie’s first sensation was nausea, but she didn’t vomit, although she retched. She woke up in stages, becoming progressively aware of movement and uncomfortable bumps and jostling. She also became aware of dizziness, as if she were spinning, and a terrible sense of air hunger, as if she were smothering.
Laurie tried to open her eyes, only to realize with a terrible shock that they were already open. Wherever she was, it was pitch black.
When she was more awake, Laurie tried to move, but when she did, her legs and arms immediately hit up against a wooden surface. Exploring with her hands, she quickly determined that she was in a box! A wave of frightful claustrophobia passed through her like a cold wind as she realized she’d been sealed into a Potter’s Field coffin! At the same time the memory of what happened at the medical examiner’s office flooded back with searing clarity: the chase; those two horrible men; the dead guard, the poor janitor murdered in cold blood. And then another horrid thought occurred to her: what if they were planning to bury her alive!
Gripped with terror, Laurie tried to draw up her knees, straining against the top of the coffin. Then she tried to kick, but it was all to no avail. Either something extremely heavy was on the lid or it had been nailed firmly down.
“Ahhhh,” Laurie cried as the coffin jarred severely. It was then that she realized she was in some sort of vehicle.
Laurie tried screaming but only succeeded in hurting her own ears. Next she tried pounding the underside of the lid with her fists, but it was difficult in the confined space.
Abruptly the jarring stopped. The vibration of the engine also stopped. Then there was the distant sound as if the doors of the vehicle had opened. Laurie felt the coffin move.
“Help!” Laurie cried. “I can’t breathe!”
She heard voices, but they weren’t speaking with her. In a wave of desperate panic, Laurie again tried to pound the underside of the lid as tears came. She couldn’t help herself. She’d never been so terrified in her life.
Laurie knew she was being carried for a time. She hated to think where they were taking her. Would they really bury her? Would she hear the dirt raining down on the lid?
With a final thump the coffin was put down. It hadn’t hit ground. It sounded like wood.
Laurie gasped for air between sobs as a cold sweat appeared on her forehead.
Lou wasn’t exactly sure where the American Fresh Fruit Company was, but he knew it was in the Green Point pier area. He’d been there once years before and was hoping it would come back to him.
When he got to the waterfront district, he took his emergency light down and turned it off. He continued on Greenpoint Avenue until he could go no further, then turned north on West Street, the whole time scanning the abandoned warehouses for some sign of life.
He was beginning to feel discouraged and progressively desperate until he saw a road marked Java Street. The name rang a bell. Lou turned left onto it, heading ever closer to the river. A block down stood a high chain-link fence. Over the open gate was a sign bearing the name of Cerino’s company. Several cars were parked on the inside of the gate. Lou recognized one as Cerino’s Lincoln Continental. Beyond the cars was a huge warehouse that extended out over the pier. Above and behind the warehouse Lou could see the very top of the superstructure of a ship.
Lou drove through the gate and parked next to Cerino’s car. A wide overhead door to the warehouse was open. Lou could just make out the rear of a van parked in the darkness within. He shut off his engine and got out. All he could hear was the distant screech of some sea gulls.
Lou checked his gun but left it in his holster. He tiptoed over to the open door and peered in for a better look at the van. When he saw HEALTH AND HOSPITAL CORP. on its side, he was encouraged. Glancing around in the darkness of the warehouse, Lou saw nothing but the vague outlines of stacks of bananas. No one was in sight, but toward the end of the pier, in the direction of the river, perhaps a hundred yards away, he could see a glow of light.
Lou debated calling for backup. Proper police procedure required such a move, but he feared there wasn’t time. He had to be certain Laurie wasn’t in immediate danger.
Once he did that, he could take the time to call for help.
Avoiding the central corridor through the bananas, Lou worked his way laterally until he found another corridor that led out the pier. Groping ahead, he moved in the general direction of the light.
It took him about five minutes to get abreast of the light. Carefully he again moved laterally until he could see that the light was coming from a windowed office. Inside were people. Lou recognized Cerino immediately.
Inching even closer, Lou got a better view of the interior. Most important, he saw Laurie. She was sitting in a straight-back chair. Lou could even see that her forehead gleamed with perspiration.
Sensing that Laurie was all right momentarily, Lou began to carefully retrace his steps. Now he wanted to use his radio in his car to call in some backup. With as many people as there were in the office, he wasn’t about to play hero and go barging in.
Back at his car, Lou climbed in and picked up his police radio. He was about to speak when he felt the press of cold metal against the back of his neck.
“Get out of the car,” a voice commanded.
Lou turned slowly and looked up into Angelo’s gaunt face.
“Out of the car.”
Lou carefully replaced the microphone and got out onto the asphalt.
“Face the car,” Angelo ordered.
Angelo quickly frisked Lou, removing his gun when he found it.
“OK,” Angelo said. “Let’s go down to the office. Maybe you’d like to go on a little cruise, too.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Laurie said. She was trembling. The coffin she’d been in was off to the side. She was terrified that they were going to force her back into it.
“Please, Doctor,” Travino said. “I’m a doctor myself. We speak the same language. All we want to know is how you figured it out. How did you guess that these cases were not the garden-variety overdoses you people see day in, day out?”
“You must be thinking of someone else,” Laurie said. She tried to think, but it was difficult with her terror. Yet she had the idea that the reason she was still alive was because they were desperate to know how she’d solved the case. Consequently she didn’t want to tell them anything.
“Let me at her,” Tony pleaded.
“If you don’t talk with the doctor,” Paul said, “I’ll have to let Tony have his way.”
At that moment the door to the warehouse proper opened and Lou Soldano was propelled inside the office. Angelo followed, his gun held at his side. “Company!” he said.
“Who is it, Angelo?” Paul demanded. His patch was still in place over his operated eye.
“It’s Lou Soldano,” Angelo said. “He was about to use his radio.”
“Lou?” Cerino echoed. “What are you doing here?”
“Keeping an eye on you,” Lou said. Looking at Laurie, he asked, “Are you all right?”
Laurie shook her head. “As well as can be expected,” she said through tears.
Angelo grabbed a chair and set it next to Laurie’s. “Sit down!” he barked.
Lou sat down, his eyes glued to Laurie. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
“Travino,” Paul said angrily, “this whole affair is getting too complicated. You and your big ideas.” Then to Angelo he said: “Get someone outside to make sure Soldano was alone. And get rid of his car. To be on the safe side let’s assume he had a chance to call in before we got him.”
Angelo snapped his fingers at several of the low-level hoodlums who’d accompanied Paul. The men immediately left the office.
“Want me to take care of the detective?” Tony asked.
Paul waved him away. “The fact that he is here means he knows more than he ought to know,” he said. “He’s going on the cruise, too. We’ll have to talk with him just like we have to talk with the girl. But for the moment let’s get them on the Montego Bay quickly. I’d prefer if the crew saw as little as possible. What do you suggest?”
“Gas!” Angelo said.
“Good idea,” Paul said. “Tony, you’re on.”
Tony leaped at the opportunity to prove himself in Paul’s presence. He got out a couple of plastic bags and the gas cylinder. As soon as he had the first bag inflated, he tied it off and started on the second while the first slowly floated toward the ceiling.
One of the hoodlums came back and reported that no one else was around and that Soldano’s car had been taken care of.
A sudden vibrating blast from the Montego Bay’s ship’s horn made everybody jump. The ship was just on the other side of the uninsulated wall of the office. Paul cursed.
Tony had let go of the second bag and some of the gas escaped into the room.
“Is that stuff bad for us?” Cerino questioned, smelling the gas.
“No,” Dr. Travino said.
In the confusion, Laurie turned to Lou. “Do you have your cigarettes with you?” she asked.
Lou looked at her as if he’d not heard correctly. “What are you talking about?”
“Your cigarettes,” she repeated. “Give them to me.”
Lou reached into his jacket pocket. As he was about to pull out his hand, another hand grabbed his wrist. It was the hoodlum who’d reported on his car.
The thug glared at Lou and pulled Lou’s hand from his jacket. When he saw that Lou was only holding a pack of cigarettes with matches under the cellophane, he let go of Lou’s arm and stepped back.
Still baffled, Lou handed the cigarettes to Laurie.
“Are you alone?” Laurie asked in a whisper.
“Unfortunately,” Lou whispered back. He tried to smile at the thug who’d grabbed his wrist. The man was still glaring at him.
“I want you to have a cigarette,” Laurie said.
“I’m sorry,” Lou said. “I’m not interested in smoking at the moment.”
“Take it!” Laurie snapped.
Lou looked at her in bewilderment. “All right!” he said. “Whatever you say.”
Laurie took one of the cigarettes out of the pack and stuck it into Lou’s mouth. Then she slipped out the matches. Tearing out a match, she glanced up at the hoodlum who was watching them so intently. His expression hadn’t changed.
Laurie shielded the match and struck it. Lou leaned toward her with the cigarette between his lips. But Laurie didn’t light it. Instead she used the match to fire the entire pack of matches. Once the pack started to flare, she tossed it toward Tony and his plastic bags. In the same motion she fell sideways off her chair, tackling a surprised Lou in the process. Together they fell to the floor.
The resulting explosion was severe, especially around Tony and upwards toward the ceiling, where the escaped ethylene had layered and the second bag had positioned itself. The concussion of the blast blew out all the office windows as well as the door and all the overhead lights, sparing only a lamp on the desk. Tony was consumed by the fireball. Angelo was thrown against the wall, where he sagged to a sitting position, his eardrums blown out. His hair was singed to his scalp, and he suffered some internal damage to his lungs. All the others were knocked momentarily senseless to the floor and superficially burned. A few managed to push themselves up on all fours, groaning and totally befuddled.
On the floor, Laurie and Lou were relatively spared, having been below any of the layered ethylene, although both had suffered some minor burns and mild ear damage from the severe deflagration. Laurie opened her eyes and released her grip around Lou’s middle.
“Are you all right?” she questioned. Her ears were ringing.
“What the hell happened?” Lou said.
Laurie scrambled to her feet. She pulled Lou’s arm to get him to his feet. “Let’s get out of here!” she said. “I’ll explain it later.”
Together they stepped around and over moaning people strewn about the floor. They coughed in the acrid smoke.
Beyond the blown-out door of the office, their feet crunched over shattered glass. Down the corridor of bananas, they saw a flashlight bobbing in the dark. Someone was running toward them.
Lou yanked Laurie laterally away from the office in the direction from which he’d originally come. As they huddled behind a stack of bananas, the running footfalls drew closer. Soon another one of Cerino’s thugs stood gasping at the threshold of the office. For a moment he stood there with his mouth open in amazement. Then he went to his boss’s aid. Paul was sitting on the floor in front of the desk, holding his head.
“This is our chance,” Lou whispered. He held on to Laurie as they worked their way back toward the entrance of the warehouse. The going was slow because of the dark and the fact that they wanted to stay away from the main corridor in case there were other Cerino people in the area.
It took them almost ten minutes before they could see the vague outline of the opening of the overhead door. In front of it was the black silhouette of the morgue van. It was still parked where it had been when Lou had entered.
“My car is probably gone,” Lou whispered. “Let’s see if the keys are in the van.”
They approached the van cautiously. Opening the driver’s side door, Lou felt along the steering column. His fingers hit the keys, still dangling from the ignition.
“Thank God,” he said. “They’re here. Get in!”
Laurie climbed in the passenger side. Lou was already behind the wheel.
“As soon as I start this thing,” Lou whispered urgently, “we’re out of here fast. But we might not be in the clear. There might be some shooting, so how about you going in the back and lying down.”
“Just start the van!” Laurie said.
“Come on,” Lou said. “Don’t argue.”
“You’re the one who’s arguing,” Laurie snapped. “Let’s go!”
“Nobody’s going nowhere!” a voice said to Lou’s left.
With a sinking feeling, Laurie and Lou looked out the window on Lou’s side. A number of faceless men in hats were standing in the dark. A flashlight snapped on and played over Lou’s face, then over Laurie’s. They each blinked in its glare.
“Out of the truck,” the same voice ordered. “Both of you.”
With hopes dashed, Laurie and Lou climbed back out of the van. They could not see the men for the bright light shining at them, but there seemed to be three.
“Back to the office,” the same voice commanded.
Discouraged, Laurie and Lou led the way back. Neither of them said a word. Neither wanted to think about Cerino’s fury.
The scene at the office was still chaotic. Smoke still hung heavily in the air. One of Cerino’s goons had helped his boss into the desk chair. Angelo was still sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He looked confused, and a trickle of blood was dripping down his chin from the corner of his mouth.
An additional light had been turned on, and the extent of the damage was more apparent. Laurie was surprised by the amount of charring. That old pharmacology text hadn’t been kidding: when it said ethylene was flammable it meant flammable. She and Lou were lucky not to have been injured more severely.
Laurie and Lou were given the same seats they’d occupied only minutes before. Sitting down, Laurie got a glimpse of Tony’s burned remains. She grimaced and looked away.
“My eye hurts,” Paul wailed.
Laurie closed her eyes, not wanting to think what the consequences were to be of her having ignited the ethylene.
“Someone help me,” Cerino cried.
Laurie’s eyes opened again. Something was wrong. No one was moving. The three men who’d accompanied them back to the office were ignoring Cerino. In fact they were ignoring everyone.
“What’s happening?” Laurie whispered to Lou.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Something weird is going on.”
Laurie looked up at the three men. They appeared nonchalant, picking at their nails, adjusting their ties. They hadn’t lifted a finger to help anyone. Looking in the other direction, Laurie saw the man who’d run back into the office just after she and Lou had gone out. He was sitting in a chair with his head in his hands, looking at the floor.
Laurie heard the sound of footsteps approaching. It sounded as if whoever was coming had metal taps on his heels. Out the blasted doorway, Laurie saw beams from several flashlights bobbing toward them.
Presently a rather dapper, darkly handsome man came to the blown-out door. He stopped to survey the scene. He was dressed in a dark cashmere coat over a pin-striped suit. His hair was slicked back from his forehead.
“My God, Cerino,” he said with derision. “What a mess you have made!”
Laurie looked at Cerino. Cerino didn’t answer; he didn’t even move.
“I don’t believe it,” Lou said.
Laurie’s head spun around. She looked at Lou and saw the shock registered on his face. “What’s happening?” she asked.
“I knew something weird was going on,” Lou said.
“What?” Laurie demanded.
“It’s Vinnie Dominick,” Lou said.
“Who’s Vinnie Dominick?” Laurie asked.
Vinnie shook his head, surveying what was left of Tony, then walked over to Lou. “Detective Soldano,” Vinnie said. “How convenient that you’re here.” He pulled a cellular phone from his coat pocket and handed it to the detective. “I imagine you’d like to contact your colleagues to see if they’d be so good as to come over here. I’m sure the D.A. would like to have a long talk with Paul Cerino.”
In the background Laurie was aware of the three men who had been lounging around before Vinnie Dominick arrived. They were now going around the room collecting guns.
One of them brought Lou’s over to Vinnie, having retrieved it from Angelo. Vinnie proceeded to give it back to Lou.
In disbelief Lou looked down at the phone in one hand and his gun in the other.
“Come on, Lou,” Vinnie said. “Make your call. Unfortunately I’ve got another appointment, so I can’t be around when the men in blue arrive. Besides I’m kind of a shy sort of guy and I wouldn’t feel comfortable with all the acclaim the city would want to throw my way for saving the day. Obviously you know what Mr. Cerino has been up to, so you don’t need my help there. But if you don’t, don’t hesitate to give me a call. You know how to get ahold of me, I’m sure.”
Vinnie started for the door, motioning for his men to follow him. As he passed Angelo he turned back to Lou. “You’d better call an ambulance for Angelo here,” he said. “He doesn’t look so good.” Then, looking down at Tony, he added: “The mortuary van out there will be fine for this dog turd.” With that, he left.
Lou handed Laurie his gun while he used the cellular phone to call 911. He identified himself to the 911 operator and gave the address. When he was finished, he took back his gun.
“Who is this Vinnie character?” Laurie asked.
“He’s Cerino’s main rival,” Lou said. “He must have found out what Cerino was up to and this is his way of turning him in. Very effective, I’d say, with us here as witnesses. It’s also a clever way to get rid of his competition.”
“You mean Vinnie knew Cerino was behind all these overdoses?” Laurie asked. She was stunned.
“What are you talking about? Vinnie must have figured out that Cerino was killing off patients ahead of him on Jordan Scheffield’s corneal-transplant waiting list.”
“Oh, my God!” Laurie exclaimed.
“What now?” Lou asked. After the night he’d been having, he wasn’t ready for much more.
“It’s twice as bad as I thought it was,” Laurie said. “The drug overdoses were really homicides to get eyes. Cerino was having people killed who’d signed up with the Manhattan Organ Repository for organ donation.”
Lou glanced at Cerino. “He’s more of a sociopath than I could ever have imagined. My God, he was working both sides of the problem: supply and demand.”
Cerino lifted his head from his hands. “What was I supposed to do? Wait like everybody else? I couldn’t afford to wait. In my business, every day I couldn’t see, I risked death. Is it my fault the hospitals don’t have enough corneas?”
Laurie tapped Lou on the shoulder. He turned to face her.
“There’s a strange irony to this whole affair,” Laurie said, shaking her head. “We argued with one another about whose series was more socially relevant and therefore more important, your gangland-style murders or my upscale overdoses, only to learn that they were intimately connected. They were just two sides of the same horrid affair.”
“You can’t prove a thing,” Cerino growled.
“Oh, really?” Laurie said.