“Yes, but only by phone,” Kevin said. “She was the one who called in the death to communications, and I spoke to her briefly. When I got to the MMH, she’d left. I did get to talk with the night ED supervisor, Dr. Phillips, who told me about what he’d heard and allowed me to read all the ED’s notes, including Dr. Sidoti’s write-up. What I got out of all of it was that the ED team really pulled out all the stops on the resuscitation attempt and were really bummed it wasn’t successful. I didn’t mention this in the report, but they tried for several hours and were reluctant to give up. I don’t know if that is helpful.”
“During your investigation did you get the feeling that Dr. Sue Passero was well liked?”
“Absolutely,” Kevin said. “I believe that’s why they continued the resuscitation long after it was obvious it wasn’t going to work.”
“How about with the hospital administration? Did you get any sense of her reputation with them?”
“No, not at all,” Keven said with a shake of his head. “There was no need to talk to the administrator on call.”
“What about the two nurses who originally started the resuscitation in the garage? Did you talk with either of them?”
“Indeed I did,” Kevin said. “I talked with Ronnie Cavanaugh at length, who’s one of the MMH’s night nursing supervisors. If you want to talk to anyone yourself about the case, he’s the one I’d recommend, and not just because he’s the one who initially found the patient slumped in her car. He’s a sharp dude. I’ve dealt with him in the past on quite a few occasions because he’s the individual who makes the vast majority of the night-shift death calls from the MMH, most of which don’t require our making a site visit because he’s so thorough, and he knows what we are looking for.”
Kevin’s praise of Ronnie Cavanaugh reminded Jack of Dr. Sidoti’s equally as complimentary comments as well as her recommendation Jack should chat with him if he wanted any more details. Although at the time Jack had thought trying to meet with him would be difficult since he worked at night, he recalled Dr. Sidoti saying that the man made a habit of coming into the ED an hour or so early. Suddenly Jack had the idea of stopping by there on his way home when he planned on picking up the folders Virginia said she’d leave for him at the information desk. It seemed like a reasonable plan provided the man showed up early enough for Jack to get home around seven.
“You didn’t mention the name of the other nurse involved in the initial CPR. Was there a reason?”
“I didn’t think it was important,” Kevin said. “I got all I needed and more from Ronnie Cavanaugh. And she didn’t stay in the ED during the resuscitation attempt. Her major contribution was to call the ED while Ronnie started the CPR. I can certainly get her name if you think it is important.”
“It wouldn’t hurt,” Jack said. He didn’t mention that he already knew her name.
“Well, is that it?” Kevin asked after a pause. “If so, I’ve got to get my act together here.”
“One other question,” Jack said. “In your report you described Ronnie as saying he’d seen some improvement initially, but you didn’t explain what the improvement was.”
“Oh, sorry,” Kevin said. “My bad! I should have been more specific. It was that the patient’s cyanosis improved. I thought it was an interesting point because it suggested to Ronnie that the resuscitation might work, but probably the brain went too long without oxygen.”
“All right, thank you,” Jack said, getting to his feet. “If you think of anything else at all, don’t hesitate to give me a call, and I’ll do the same if I think of any more questions.”
“Will do,” Kevin said as he also stood. The two men touched elbows, smiling at employing the pandemic method of greeting and saying goodbye.
Leaving the Medical Legal Investigation Department, Jack eyed the bank of elevators but then remembered that Forensic Biology Director Naomi Grossman’s office was just down the hall. As desperate as he was, he couldn’t help himself from stopping in with the hope of getting some information, even if only preliminary, about the possibility of a channelopathy. What he did get was a chuckle out of Naomi, accusing him of expecting the impossible since he’d delivered the samples only hours earlier. But his visit wasn’t totally in vain. It evoked a call from Naomi to one of her laboratory supervisors to remind the team that the case was of particular interest to the chief, Laurie Montgomery. On the same call, she asked that a rapid screening test be done, which wouldn’t be final, meaning defining a specific channelopathy, but would merely determine if a channelopathy existed. Jack was ecstatic, believing he’d saved himself days, if not weeks.
Pleased with himself, he descended in the elevator to the main floor and headed back toward the freight receiving dock. This time when he passed the doors into the auditorium, he stopped. Curious about how Laurie was making out and if the presentation to the incoming mayor was still in progress, he pushed open the door and stuck his head inside.
The auditorium was large enough to seat several hundred people, but Jack estimated there were only about twenty or thirty currently, all seated way down by the lectern in the first couple of rows. Since the lights were significantly dimmed, they were mere silhouettes. With so few people, Laurie could have used the conference room in the old OCME building where the weekly Thursday medical examiner meetings were held. But the old conference room didn’t have the high-tech audiovisual equipment the new auditorium had, which she was using to full advantage. At the moment, Laurie was in the middle of a professionally made PowerPoint presentation about the enormous benefits the NYC OCME provided to the city.
Careful to avoid making any noise, Jack let the auditorium doors close. He’d seen the presentation a number of times and had participated in creating it. Besides, with so much on his mind, he knew he wouldn’t be able to just sit there and listen. Instead, he trusted Laurie would tell him how it all went that evening. Knowing how nervous she’d been, he hoped it was going well.
Chapter 15
Tuesday, December 7, 4:12 p.m.
Even the short bike ride from 26th Street to 30th Street gave Jack a chance to partially clear his head. Although he hadn’t learned anything by taking the time to go to the high-rise, the effort had helped to at least devise a plan of attack, as he was now committed to meeting with the nursing supervisor, Ronald Cavanaugh, or Ronnie, as he seemed to be known. If Jack wasn’t able to run into the man in the Emergency Department for whatever reason, he decided he’d arrange to talk to him by phone at the very least. Although he knew from experience, when you don’t know what you don’t know, it was far better to interview someone in person, because there had been times when Jack had learned more from an individual’s behavior and expressions than from their answers. One way or the other, he was going to make sure he chatted with the man.
After waiting for the traffic light to change, Jack rode across First Avenue and started down 30th Street, passing the OCME on his left. Turning in between several OCME Sprinter vans, he saw something he didn’t expect: a nondescript, black Chevy Malibu, which he recognized as Lou Soldano’s. Jack saw Lou frequently but not often twice in the same day. Getting off his bike and walking it, Jack came alongside the vehicle and noticed it wasn’t empty. Lou was sitting in the driver’s seat with his head back, mouth ajar, obviously fast asleep. Although he was surprised to see Lou, he wasn’t surprised to see him sleeping. The man notoriously burned the candle at both ends, especially on nighttime homicides, like the Seton case, and frequently took catnaps whenever the opportunity presented itself.