Uncoiling his tall frame from a breakroom chair, he strolled to the counter and poured himself another cup of what had purportedly once been coffee (the lab results weren't back yet). He turned and looked at the table and chair he'd just vacated, and considered sitting back down and closing his eyes for what he hoped would be a short nap…only he didn't have Catherine's ability to quickly recharge, nor was the caffeine in his bloodstream likely to cooperate.
Instead, he would go check with David about the autopsy on Vivian Elliot.
Assistant coroner David Phillips often worked alongside Dr. Robbins in the morgue, but when Warrick peeked in, Robbins was in the midst of an autopsy with Nick and Sara looking on and providing whatever assistance might be necessary-no David. And Warrick could see just enough of the corpse's face on the table to know she wasn't their woman from Sunny Day; this corpse was young, if a corpse could be said to possess youth.
Warrick moved on in his search, which didn't take long-the assistant coroner was two doors down in X-ray.
As Warrick walked in, David was adjusting the placement of the X-ray tube over Vivian Elliot's remains. An X-ray had a multiplicity of uses where live bodies were concerned; and Warrick had seen such machines used even on dead bodies, to locate bullets or other foreign objects.
But the CSI wasn't sure he knew what David was up to, using the thing with the late Vivian Elliot….
"Hey," Warrick said.
"Hey," David said. He smiled, glad for the living company apparently, and gestured. "Step into my booth…."
"Said the spider to the fly?"
"Or not. And don't worry: That glow-in-the-dark rumor you hear is a buncha b.s."
"I'm coming, teacher," Warrick said.
David led Warrick into the control booth and hit a switch. Soon David shut it down, and moved quickly out into the main room to remove that film from under Vivian's body and to place another a little farther down.
"I could use a hand," David asked.
Warrick joined David. "I don't suppose you mean applause."
"No," David said, with his nervous smile.
Warrick turned Vivian slightly so David could get the film under her. "What are you up to, David?" he asked. "Not playing another hunch, are ya?"
"Not exactly. More…trying to confirm a theory."
"Which is?"
"That someone at Sunny Day injected Mrs. Elliot with air, causing an embolism that sent her heart into seizure…after which she died."
Frowning and nodding, Warrick said, "You think the killer did that, to make the death look like a heart attack?"
"I do-and this is something a bad guy could get away with…if the good guys weren't looking for it."
Warrick raised one eyebrow and gave David half a smirk. "First you think the woman was murdered, because you've been called out to that nursing home too many times…."
"Yes, that…but also, that none of the last four people who died at Sunny Day had any family to notify, remember."
"I remember…and now you're telling me the murder weapon is air."
"Well, here's another fact for you…."
"Facts are good. We like facts a lot better than hunches."
"I know you do. The others have all been heart attacks, too."
Warrick felt his skepticism fading and his interest rising; the facts were beginning to pile up like a winner's chips, and something in David's earnestness made Warrick want to trust the assistant coroner's instincts.
After all, a "hunch" from an expert, the "instincts" of a professional, could be as valid as a physician's diagnosis.
"The theory is really pretty simple," David began. "The killer injects a fairly large syringe full of air into the victim. In Mrs. Elliot's case, the IV catheter gave the killer an injection site that wouldn't even be noticed. The air embolism reaches the heart and the muscle seizes. The outward symptoms are that the victim is having a heart attack, but the truth is…she's been murdered."
"Dispose of the needle," Warrick said, "and it's like you were never there."
"That perfect crime you hear so much about."
"Not so perfect."
David frowned. "Where's the flaw?"
Warrick grinned. "Somebody smart like you, David, can see right through it."
David beamed, but Warrick didn't let him bask in the praise, asking, "What do you hope to accomplish with the X-ray?"
With a gesture toward Vivian Elliot, who posed under the X-ray's eye, David said, "The cardiovascular system is a closed system. Despite the fact that there's over 60,000 miles of arteries, veins, and capillaries, the air bubble will show up on an X-ray. If there's an air bubble, Vivian Elliot was murdered. If not…I've wasted a lot of valuable time, and this poor woman is still dead."
"Dead not murdered."
"Dead but not murdered…. Only, doesn't this woman have a right for us to make a serious effort to find her cause of death?"
Warrick gave David the complete and profound answer the assistant coroner was hoping for: "Yes."
They moved the body and took more X-rays. Working in silence for a while, they finished their task in a relatively short order.
Holding up the last undeveloped X-ray, Warrick said, "Is this the only way to find out if she was murdered by an air bubble?"
Shrugging a little, David said, "There is one other way, but I don't think Doctor Robbins would ever go for it."
"Well, try me."
David's eyes flicked wide. "Well…you crack the chest and fill the cavity with water. If there's an air embolism, it'll leak out, and the ME will see bubbles in the water."
"That's nasty," Warrick said.
"So is murder."
"Good point."
"I've heard about this technique, but I've never actually seen anyone do it in practice. The X-rays are still our best bet."
"Well," Warrick said, "let's take these vacation pics to one-hour photo, and see if our next trip's gonna be to track down a murderer…."
Catherine stretched her arms wide, yawning herself awake. The windowless office was pitch-black, the only light coming in under the crack of the door. She checked the iridescent dial of her watch and realized she'd slept five more minutes than the twenty she'd planned. Blessed with an uncanny internal clock, Catherine seldom had use for an alarm and only wore a watch for confirmation of what her body was already telling her.
She reached over to switch on her desk lamp. When her eyes had adjusted to the light, her gaze came into focus on the framed picture of her daughter Lindsey. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl smiled at her and Catherine smiled back. Not long ago, she might have felt a twinge of guilt over the many hours she spent away from the child.
But she had come to terms with her single-parent status, and dedication to her job was something to feel pride about, not shame. Catherine's nightshift work actually made it possible for her to spend more time with Lindsey than many a working mom…although in doubleshift marathons like this one, that notion was put to the test.
At a counter in her office, Catherine reached at random for one of the brown bags of evidence from Vivian Elliot's room. After breaking the seal, she realized she'd picked up the one filled with sheets. She set that aside, saving that for the layout room where she'd have more space. For now, she selected the bag containing Vivian Elliot's personal belongings; inside was a smaller bag of valuables as well, which she'd picked up from the Sunny Day office.
She carefully emptied the contents of the smaller bag onto the counter: three rings, a watch, a gold cross necklace, a wallet, and a cell phone. A few years ago, the cell phone might have surprised her, with a woman of Vivian's age; but now the whole world seemed to have one, and many seniors in fact carried cells for I've-fallen-and-can't-get-up emergencies.