"My labs? What're you meaning to imply, Lucas?"
"These items and those sent to my place-autopsy slices of human organs as far as I can tell-may've originated in-house as a sick joke against me and Meredyth."
"That would be in the worst taste imaginable."
"Yeah, tasted bad at my place too."
"What kind of package did this fiend send you?"
Lucas described the packaging as identical down to the Styrofoam-lined interior that soaked up much of the liquid residue coming off the warm contents. "The hand-printing job and the scripted poems appear the work of the same person, so I'm wondering the same thing you are right about now."
"Which is?" The slight Chinese M.E. looked piqued that Lucas should suggest that his thoughts could be read.
"Are the body parts from the same victim, and who is the victim? And could the victim have been a resident of your morgue?"
"I'll hang anyone who might have taken human tissues and organs from our labs, Lucas. There will be no mercy for such actions. No one working under my direction can take such despicable liberties. It can't happen, not in my morgue."
"Come on, Leonard. You know who I have in mind. Scratch the surface of the man and what've you got?"
"You want me to question Frank Patterson about this?"
"Just watch him carefully, and I'll keep my eye on Detective Feldman."
"Itch? Itch and his friend Frank. Scratch the surface, you say. Should we say it is a game of itch and scratch? You can't truly believe it, Lucas. That they could be so stupid, so irresponsible, so…"
"Despicable?"
"Exactly."
"Hey, only a hunch, but the two of them've become quite chummy lately, and Feldman's done worse, and he's a bad influence on Frank."
"I hope you're wrong. Meantime, analysis of the tissues will tell us something about the victim or victims- certainly whether or not all the tissues come from the same female and how long she's been dead."
"You already know she's a she?"
"Eyes are small but mature, feminine eyes, my guess."
"You're the best, Chang."
"I still must treat this as a crime, Lucas, and a possible murder, and not a stupid-ass practical joke. And since law- enforcement officials have been targeted, we will work around the clock until we have answers for you, Detective."
Houston, like most major American cities, had passed tough laws against people who targeted the homes and families of police and firemen, so prevalent had crimes against law-enforcement officials become, anything from stalking to attempted murder of police in their homes.
Chang was now examining the poem, holding it up to the light with a pair of tweezers. "Poor dear Meredyth," he said to Lucas. "The idea that such a monster as the kind we deal with gains entry this way…in her home…."
"Yeah, I felt the same way at my place."
"Screwy poem, but I'm no literary critic." He ordered Hoskins to slip the poein into a glassine case, careful not to smudge prints that might show up under a blue light.
"There was a CD left with the contents as well," Lucas informed the M.E., adding, "and ahhh, Meredyth placed it in her machine and played it."
"Where is the player?"
Lucas pointed it out. Chang pressed the play button and listened to a few bars of the old but popular tune, the singer's enthusiastic melody honoring "the time of my life."
Chang ejected the CD, slipped it into a plastic bag, and placed this into his black valise. "All this reminds me of that fan of mine who broke into my house a year ago." Chang gripped the back of his head and rubbed it in thought, looking rather Woody Allen — ish in clothes too baggy for his slight build. "This… this has to be unnerving for both of you."
"Like I said, Leonard, my first instinct was to think it a scam, you know, put together by some of the lunatics down at the precinct. At the moment, that suggestion has soothed Dr. Sanger somewhat."
"The lesser of two evils, you think?"
"Exactly."
"Feldman, hmmm…" He rubbed his chin in thought, trying to picture Arnie Feldman behind the prank. "Suppose you are wrong about Feldman. Suppose this is the work of some lunatic after all."
"Then we've got a real nutcase on our hands, don't we, Doc?"
"Perhaps in the meantime, while I am examining the eyes, teeth, and tissues, you might start an investigation with Missing Persons."
"I can put in the necessary calls."
"The eyes are fresh but with no ice crystals, Lucas. If it were from a corpse in the morgue, and this was done recently, there would be traces of ice. Whoever the victim is, her eyes are still pliable and firm. Not dry and breaking down from exposure to the elements or exposure to freezing."
"And that spells?"
"If not a recent-very recent-cadaver tampering, as you suggest, then a very, very recent missing persons case perhaps."
"I see. The death is recent, which might point to a recent disappearance, a recent-"
"— abduction-killing," Chang finished for him.
Lucas stepped away from Chang and into the kitchen, mulling over what Chang had said. He remembered Meredyth's request for iced tea, and he found it in the fridge, grabbed a clean glass and ice, and filled it to the brim. When he returned to the living room and passed through to the terrace, he found that Dr. Chang had gone out to talk with Meredyth. Lucas stepped into the middle of their conversation, the ice in her tea signaling his arrival.
Chang stood at the terrace rail, staring out at Houston's joyful skyline as it was being gobbled up by a fog. He seemed to be studying the clear demarcation where the blankness of night met the artificial orange glow of the city lights, lights that softly pushed back at space only to create a twilight meeting ground in between. The final effect created a swelling, growing smokiness around the tall buildings of downtown Houston. The effect seemed both real and unreal at once, composed as it was of reflecting colorful lights in battle with bleakness.
Chang seemed to be taking in the strange view as he consoled the psychiatrist. "My lab will work day and night to bring this lunatic to justice, whoever he may be, Dr. Sanger, be assured, and I am so sorry that you were put through this horror."
"Thank you, Dr. Chang, Leonard."
"I can't imagine the kind of brain we are dealing with, to send the eyes ripped from a young woman to terrorize a beautiful person like yourself, Meredyth. If you wish, of course, Kim and I will make room for you at our house for the night."
Meredyth sniffled. "That's so sweet of you, Leonard. But it won't be necessary. I can use my parents' home in Clover Leaf."
"Yes, and how are they enjoying their new place, Colony in the Glade? Father getting in a lot of golf there? Mother using the gym, maybe the pool?"
"They're in Paris."
"Really?"
"Anniversary."
"Long time since we last dined together, all of us."
Lucas now leaned over her and handed Meredyth the glass of iced tea, and she quickly grabbed it up and drank heartily while Chang informed her of the gender of the eyes. "They are those of a young woman, likely out of her teens, most certainly younger than forty. The teeth appear to be consistent with this finding as well."
"How can you be so sure?" she asked, setting her glass down.
"I'll know better once we have examined them under microscopic lens, of course."
"But how do you know the eyes belong to a woman?" pressed Meredyth. "I mean, it's not as if they had eyelashes attached."
"They are fully mature orbs, but slightly smaller than those of most males, so unless we are dealing with stunted growth or a male dwarf, which is highly unlikely, I am eighty- or ninety-percent certain they are the eyes of a middle-aged or a young woman in her late teens or early twenties."
"An educated guess," commented Lucas.
"One most likely corroborated by closer analysis, blood and serum tests, and DNA typing. And I intend, at Lucas's suggestion, to see if there is a match in DNA typing to any recent visitors to my autopsy rooms, morgue, or labs. If there is any sort of nonsense going on behind my back, I will determine it and prosecute anyone found to be involved."