Rather than wake Lou immediately, Jack took his bike inside and secured it. He then came back out to the street. Knowing that sometimes Lou would wake up with a start, ready for combat, he very quietly rapped on the driver’s-side window. When Lou didn’t stir, he knocked harder. Finally, he pounded against the glass with the base of a closed fist, which finally had the desired effect. Lou straightened up, blinked a few times, then opened the car door.
“What year is it?” Lou asked, trying to be humorous. “Sorry! I was told by security that you’d just gone out, so I took the opportunity for a few winks.”
“How am I so lucky?” Jack asked rhetorically. “I usually don’t get to see you twice in the same day.”
“I know, but I needed to talk with you. Something unexpected came up.”
“Like what?”
“This might take a few minutes to explain,” Lou said. “What say we head up to your palatial office?”
“Be my guest,” Jack said, pointing toward the loading dock.
As they were rising in the slowpoke back elevator, Lou yawned loudly, smacked his lips, and said that he hadn’t felt as tired since yesterday. Jack dutifully laughed.
Inside Jack’s office, after Lou took off his winter coat and Jack took off his corduroy jacket, Jack shoved his desk chair in Lou’s direction. With its casters on the slick floor, it thumped decisively into Lou, who grabbed it and sat down backward, resting his forearms on the backrest. Jack leaned his rump against the L portion of his desk and placed his hands on his hips, staring at Lou expectantly. In his mind, Lou was not acting like himself, and Jack was intrigued.
“Well, what’s up?” Jack questioned.
Lou cleared his throat and asked him if he’d given the case that Lou had witnessed that morning any more thought.
“You mean the Seton case?” Jack questioned. “No, I haven’t. To be honest, the Sue Passero case has been dominating my mind. Why do you ask?”
“There’s been a development you should know about.”
“Oh?” Jack said. “And what might that be?”
“A suicide note has turned up.”
“Really?” Jack questioned with disbelief. This was unexpected. In his forensically oriented mind, Jack was confident that the death had been a homicide. It was nearly but perhaps not totally impossible for Sharron Seton to have shot herself considering the bullet’s path. “I’m rather surprised, to say the least. Has it been authenticated?”
“Yes, preliminarily by a handwriting expert in the crime lab.”
“Why wasn’t it found during the initial investigation?”
“It was found in the wife’s appointment book.”
“By whom?”
“The husband, Paul Seton.”
“Have you seen it?”
“Yes, I have,” Lou said. “It struck me as authentic as well. It seems that Sharron Seton has suffered with depression most of her life, for which she has been treated since she was a teenager. She was on a whole pharmacopoeia of medications that were constantly being adjusted up and down. Apparently becoming pregnant was something she couldn’t deal with and said as much in the note. Paul claims he didn’t know she was pregnant. All he knew was that her depression had taken a serious turn for the worse of late, and she was refusing to see her therapist, which they had been arguing about, and which was why he was lately sleeping in the guest room more often than not.”
“I guess this puts more of an onus on your investigative team,” Jack said.
“No doubt,” Lou said. “What I’m wondering is if this new information will influence your feelings about the manner of the death and how you will sign it out. Obviously, that is going to be critical.”
“Not really,” Jack said, groaning inwardly. “From a forensic point of view and the preponderance of evidence I can show, it’s a homicide, not a suicide.” The writing was on the wall that the case would involve a lengthy trial, reminding him how much he hated trials.
“I think the defense attorney is going to request another autopsy,” Lou said. “Does that bother you?”
“Not in the slightest,” Jack said. “It’s certainly within the defendant’s rights. I get the feeling you want this Paul Seton fellow acquitted.”
“Obviously,” Lou said. “But only if he didn’t do it.”
“If there was no break-in, he did it or was an accessory,” Jack said. “The only other possibility is that he did it in collusion with his wife. Maybe he was convinced it was in his wife’s best interests, but she couldn’t do it herself.”
Lou half laughed and waved Jack off with his hand. “That’s creative but unlikely.”
“From my perspective, it’s at least a possibility, no matter how small the probability. Nonetheless, I’m signing the case out as a homicide, though, suicide note or not. Sorry, my friend.”
“That’s okay, you have to do what you have to do. I was hoping the suicide note might change your mind. Be that as it may, let’s move on as long as I am here. What’s the story with the Passero case that had you bamboozled this morning to the point of suspecting uxoricide?”
“What the hell does uxoricide mean?”
“Wife killing,” Lou said. “When you’ve been involved with murder as long as I have, you hear all the words for it, even the Latin ones.”
“You’ll be happy to know, I’m leaning away from the husband,” Jack said with a self-deprecating smile. “But I’m still confused. Even after an autopsy, I’m without a cause or mechanism of death, and if anything, the situation is bothering me more now than it did when you and I talked earlier. I have to confess to you and you alone that I even took the time to go over to the Manhattan Memorial to do a little investigating. I talked to the doc who headed up the team that tried to resuscitate her, as well as a few other people.”
“Uh-oh!” Lou voiced. “Am I sensing you are back to playing detective? You aren’t supposed to be let out of your cage to investigate anything.”
“I know it’s frowned upon,” Jack said with a guilty smile. “And generally, it is not needed because we have such a talented Medical Legal Investigation team.”
“I happen to know directly from the big boss that it’s more than frowned upon.”
“Well, maybe so, but I’m counting on you not to mention it to the big boss,” Jack said. “Besides, the dangerous part of being a detective is when it comes down to who, whereas I’m merely caught up in how. If, when I figure out the how and it points to a who, you will be the first to know.”
“Excuse me,” Lou said. “Now you’re splitting hairs. If there is a who involved, they’re not going to take kindly to you looking into a how. Believe me! Good God! How do I allow myself to get into these weird conversations with you? For your own good, stay here in your fortress and keep away from the MMH. I distinctly remember having to save your ass over there. Besides, I happen to know that you have more than enough work to keep you busy 24/7 right here. But let’s move on. I’ve been thinking all day about what you told me this morning about Laurie, the kids, and your mother-in-law. If you want my advice, mothers always seem to know what’s best for their children. It’s in their genes. Don’t make waves!”
“That’s easier said than done,” Jack responded. “Part of the problem is that Laurie is adapting so well to being chief here at the OCME that she is bringing home the same my way or the highway attitude. Under those conditions it is becoming difficult not to make waves.”