For a few minutes after Craig had disappeared upstairs, Jack and Alexis sat at the table, lost in their own thoughts. Jack was the first to speak after reaching out and picking up the scotch bottle. "Mixing this hard stuff and a strong hypnotic is not a good idea."
"I can't argue with that."
"Have you been at all worried about Craig injuring himself?"
"You mean overdosing?"
"Yes, either intentionally or otherwise." Jack could remember his own struggles with self-destructive thoughts during his years of fighting depression.
"Of course I've thought about it, but that's one aspect of narcissism in his favor. The devotees generally don't hurt themselves. Also, his depression has been far from incapacitating, and he has been cycling regularly through periods of normalcy – like tonight, for instance. He probably wouldn't admit it, but I think you have raised his spirits by being here. It means you care, and he respects you."
"That's nice. But what's he been taking for sleep? Do you know?"
"Just the usual. I've kept close tabs. I'm embarrassed to say, I've even been counting the pills behind his back."
"You shouldn't be embarrassed. That's being prudent."
"Whatever," Alexis said. She stood up. "I think I'll head upstairs, check on the girls, and turn in myself. I hate to abandon you, but if Leona Rattner testifies tomorrow, it's going to be particularly taxing for me, too."
"No problem," Jack said. He got to his feet as well. "I'm tired myself, although I want to read over some of the depositions again. I keep thinking I might be missing something that would be key to keep in mind if and when I do the autopsy."
"I certainly don't envy you working on someone who's been buried for almost a year. How do you do this kind of work day in, day out? Isn't it repulsive?"
"I know it sounds unpleasant, maybe even ghoulish, but it's actually fascinating. I learn something every day, and I don't have any problem patients."
"Don't remind me about problem patients," Alexis said. "Talk about self-inflicted wounds; that's a prime example!"
The silence of the big house settled over Jack after Alexis said good night and climbed the stairs. For a few minutes, he reflected on Alexis's curiously emotional response to Patience Stanhope being a problem patient and how Alexis was willing to say she was glad Patience was gone. She'd even alluded to thinking that Patience Stanhope had had something to do with Craig's moving out. Jack shook his head. He didn't know what to think. Instead, he finished the beer he'd been nursing, then went down to his room to retrieve the case file and his cell phone. With those in hand, he made his way back to the study where he'd inadvertently spent the night. The room had a comfortable, familiar feel.
After getting himself situated in the same reading chair he'd been in the night before, Jack flipped open his cell phone. He felt ambivalence about calling Laurie. He wanted to hear her voice, but he was not excited about dealing with her inevitable resentment when he told her about the possible exhumation and autopsy. It was already Tuesday night, which meant there were only two more full days before Friday. The other problem was that Jack had phoned Calvin during the day to say he wasn't going to be at the OCME on Wednesday and that he'd keep him informed. There was a chance Calvin had said something to Laurie, so she'd be miffed hearing things secondhand.
As the call went through, Jack wiggled to get as comfortable as possible, and his eyes swept over the shelving that filed the opposite wall. His line of sight stopped on a large, black, old-fashioned doctor's bag next to a portable ECG machine.
"The busy traveler at last," Laurie said brightly. "I was hoping it would be you."
Jack launched into an immediate apology for calling late but explained that he wanted to wait until a decision had been made. "What kind of decision?"
Jack took a breath. "A decision to do an autopsy on the patient whose death is the basis of Craig's lawsuit."
"An autopsy?" Laurie questioned with consternation. "Jack, this is Tuesday night. The wedding is one thirty on Friday. I don't have to tell you that's right around the corner."
"I know there's a time crunch here. I'm keeping it in mind. Don't worry!"
"Are you doing the autopsy in the morning?"
"I don't think so, but there's a chance, I suppose. The problem is that the body is still in the ground."
"Jack!" Laurie whined, pulling out his name like taffy. "Why are you doing this to me?"
Jack gave Laurie the details of the case, everything he'd learned from the file, and then everything that had happened that day sans the episode with Franco. Laurie listened without interrupting until Jack was finished. Then she completely surprised Jack. She said, "Would you like me to fly up and assist you with the case?"
Wishing he could reach across the miles and give her a hug of appreciation, Jack said, "Thank you for your offer, but there's no need. It will not be a difficult case unless there's been a lot of water intrusion."
"Let me know. I'm certain as a team we could do it quickly."
After a bit of loving small talk and a promise to call as soon as he knew more, Jack flipped his phone closed. He was about to pull the case file into his lap when his eyes again spotted the doctor's bag. Jack got up and went over to the shelf. As he had implied to Alexis, he didn't think house calls were an appropriate use of a doctor's time, since they were limited to what could be done without the diagnostic tools available in a well-equipped doctor's office. But remembering the reference in the case file about a bedside assay kit for biomarkers to confirm heart attack, the thought passed through his mind that he might be outdated. In truth, Jack had not even heard about such a kit and was curious to see one. He pulled the bag from the shelf and placed it on Craig's desk. He turned on the goosenecked lamp and opened the bag. It opened like a fishing tackle box, with a number of small, chock-full compartments in trays on the top that opened to the sides. Below was the main space, with a collection of instruments including blood-pressure cuff, ophthalmoscope, and otoscope. Jack pulled out the ophthalmoscope. Just holding the instrument brought back a flood of memories.
Replacing the ophthalmoscope, Jack looked through the plethora of other material, including IV fluid, IV lines, thermometer, emergency medication, hemostats, culture media, and bandages. In the bottom, far corner of the bag he found the biomarker kit. He pulled it out and read the exterior. Hoping for an insert that might be more informative, he opened the box. The insert was directly on top.
After reading the insert, Jack realized he'd have to reassess his evaluation of house calls. With such products, including new and accurate ways of determining diabetic status, a physician could be quite effective in a home environment, especially with the portable ECG machine Jack had seen next to the doctor's bag.
Jack replaced the insert and then the biomarker assay kit. When he did so, he noticed some debris, including an empty atropine vial and an empty epinephrine vial. He wondered if they could have been from the time Craig had been treating Patience Stanhope. From the record, both medications had been used. Then Jack found something that made him sure they were. He found a small sample bottle of the antidepressant Zoloft with Patience Stanhope's name and the notation #6: one pill at hour of sleep. Jack opened the bottle and glanced in at the five pale blue tablets. Replacing the lid, Jack put the bottle back. Next, he lifted out the atropine and epinephrine vials. Both were empty.
Hearing what he thought were footsteps coming down the front steps caused Jack a pang of guilt about snooping into private property, even if just in a doctor's bag. It was a clear violation of the trust extended to him as a guest. With a bit of panic, he quickly replaced the vials, closed the bag, and jammed it back onto the shelf. He dashed across the room, leaped back into the club chair, and pulled the case-file material onto his lap.