Chapter 30 Strategy Relies on Information
Strategy Relies on Information
Nothing that gets us or her in trouble.
Frankie needs to get to the medical examiner’s office before Nico fully questions her loyalty.
He referred to whatever wasn’t listed on the medical examiner’s report as Pandora’s box, which means something significant and troublesome was omitted.
If June was no longer pregnant, then a pregnancy wasn’t what he meant.
What did he intend to hide? The pills, Frankie guesses, but right now she doesn’t feel safe assuming anything.
Repeatedly Nico’s lied to cover things up, and so the best shot she has at determining the truth might just be finding out what was so problematic that it had to be left off the report.
Strategy, after all, relies on information.
Not only that, but she now understands what else is at stake: Nico’s own culpability.
The Los Angeles County Department of Medical Examiner is east of the Los Angeles River, in a large brick building decorated with tan concrete cornices and embellishments.
Frankie takes the stairs two at a time and bypasses the front desk, finding the ME’s office at the end of the hall.
As she knocks, she pushes the door open, and the man, Cyrus Ekhdahl—as the nameplate on his desk announces—looks up.
“Cyrus,” Frankie says. “I’m sure you remember me. Frankie. I work with Nico.”
He glances behind her as if expecting Nico himself, then nods. “Sure.”
“We have a slight situation. Nothing to worry about, but there’s a reporter who’s doing her due diligence and then some. So he sent me to talk about the report in a way we couldn’t over the phone.”
Cyrus doesn’t look worried. “Nothing’s in there that shouldn’t be.”
She says good a few times and then gets to the point. “The pills. That’s our only real concern.”
“No mention of the pills.” Then he corrects himself. “Other than the one. We wrote down the number one but omitted the two.”
Frankie hazards a guess, and forces a laugh. “One pill or twenty-one, what’s the difference?”
He gives a lopsided smile. “Exactly.”
Relief—that many pills means Nico wasn’t lying. A thought rips through her mind: This really could be over. Maybe the last curveball was thrown.
But then the man continues.
“Not that it matters, anyhow. You got a gunshot victim, nobody’s asking for a list of what was undigested or partially digested. We’re fine.”
It takes her a second. Undigested. Partially digested. All the relief she felt is gone. If the pills weren’t totally digested, does that mean they didn’t kill her? “You mean not everything was absorbed?”
“Of what we found, not entirely, but no way to be sure without looking into it more thoroughly.”
“And you didn’t do that?”
Now he looks at her, curious. “We were told to respect her privacy. She’d just been shot. Why get into that baloney?”
Just then, someone knocks on his door and pushes it open. His secretary, with a coffee. She notices Frankie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. Can I get you one?”
Rattled, Frankie manages to say no, and only remembers to thank her as the secretary closes the door.
If June was alive, it means her heart was still pumping.
Frankie turns to Cyrus. “I’m so sorry. I’m not good at this.
But if someone’s shot when they’re already dead, there’s not that much blood, is there? ”
Cyrus takes a sip of coffee, then pats the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Why would someone shoot a dead person?”
She laughs. “Oh, I know. I’m just making sure, because in this case, there was a lot of blood listed on the police report, and we were there. It sure looked like a lot. At least I thought it was a lot, but that’s why I’m checking. Did you see that report?”
“’Course I saw it. Heart pumps five liters of blood per minute at rest, so yes, a lot of blood is to be expected. And yes, there was a lot of it.”
“Right. So what was listed on the report, that was actually what was there, right?”
“From what I remember.”
“And what was there made sense for someone who’d been killed by a gunshot?”
Now he’s getting annoyed, “Of course it did. I told you already.”
She wipes her forehead, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Good. Because there’d have been a lot less blood if she was already dead, if her heart wasn’t beating.”
As she knew it would be, it’s too much. “Yes, yes. For the last time, yes. Anyone reads the reports, and all of it works together because it’s all true, and no, it doesn’t look like a dead person was shot, which would make no sense anyhow.”
Frankie feels sick. She needs to get out of here.
But now he’s watching her. “Why the third degree?”
“It’s this reporter. Like I said. She’s got doctors she’s asking. I had to make sure it’s consistent with being killed by a bullet.”
“It’s consistent.”
Forcing a smile, she stands and thanks him, still reeling.
Was June’s death a fix that went horribly wrong?
Maybe she was dying, maybe she was seconds away from being completely gone, but June was alive when Nico shot her.