Chapter 3
New York, New York
John Stapleton, or Jack as he was known to the world, reacted by reflex as if he were a coiled spring.
Almost the exact moment his smartphone stirred and began to sound its wake-up alarm, his hand shot out from beneath the bedsheet and snatched the instrument up from the night table.
In an instant, even before he was completely awake and conscious of time and place, he’d turned it off.
Only then did he focus on what he was holding, comprehend what it was, and quietly lay it back down on the night table.
Gently pushing himself up on an elbow, he looked over at Laurie Montgomery Stapleton, his wife, who was lying next to him.
His frantic effort to turn the alarm off as soon as possible was born of his desire not to bother her since she could sleep for another half hour or so before her trio of alarms sounded.
As per usual, she’d not stirred. Her ability to sleep through his alarm in the morning never failed to impress him because he was just the opposite when it came to any alarm whatsoever.
Both Jack and Laurie were doctors with a subspecialty in forensic pathology who had been working for longer than they liked to admit at the Office of Chief Medical Examiner, OCME, in New York City, the largest such organization in the world and one of the oldest. Currently Laurie was officially the chief medical examiner, although a number of months previously she’d asked the deputy chief, Dr. George Fontworth, with the mayor’s blessing, to take over most of the day-to-day responsibilities of being the chief so that she could refresh her forensic pathology knowledge, which was her real love.
But things had not worked out quite as she’d planned because simultaneously with her wish to rejuvenate her professional medical credentials, the political demands of being chief peaked with the need for a new autopsy building, which she could not in good conscience hand off to George, as dealing with the involved personalities required significant interpersonal tact, which wasn’t George’s strength.
The result was that she wasn’t getting nearly as much practical experience doing autopsies and reading the literature as she wanted and was more than a bit frustrated.
Jack stood up and set out. The central air-conditioning made the bare oak flooring feel cold to his feet as he rounded the end of the bed en route to take his morning wake-up shower.
But halfway he paused and looked back down at his wife.
He couldn’t help but feel sorry for her being caught up in time-sensitive negotiations for a new, very needed NYC morgue.
The issue had become a huge deal because they were about to be kicked out of the building where the current morgue was located and moved into new quarters in the massive $1.
6-billion Kips Bay health science research center that would soon be built four blocks south on First Avenue.
The problem was that there was a scramble for space and location within the new complex by other competing city organizations, which required Laurie to enter into continuing nonstop negotiations in hopes of getting what was needed.
Whatever the outcome, there was little doubt that it was going to seriously affect the function of the OCME for the next century.
Jack wished there was something he could do to help her get off the treadmill she was on, but he couldn’t think of anything.
In many ways the problem was that she was ultimately too damn responsible for her own good.
If he were the chief, a position he never would have accepted, he’d spend a day or two making his points and then just turn the whole mess over to the bureaucrats and be done with it.
Unfortunately there was no way Laurie would do anything similar.
Shrugging his shoulders at her honorable personality and accepting his own limitations, Jack continued on into the bathroom.
Two minutes later he was standing under the showerhead and letting the water pound against the top of his head with his eyes closed.
This morning routine had a symbolic aspect, washing away the previous day’s problems and preparing him to face the new day.
Then to his utter surprise he became aware that he wasn’t alone.
Opening his eyes he saw that Laurie had joined him in the double shower and turned on the second one.
“What the hell! I don’t believe this!” he shouted loud enough to be heard over the sound of the two powerful showerheads. “How come you’re up so early? What’s up?”
“I told you last night that I have what I hope will be the final early morning meeting at eight with Miss Waters, the dean of Hunter-Bellevue School of Nursing, in her office. The OCME transport team is picking me up in about a half hour from now. Don’t you remember?”
Jack inwardly grimaced at this latest minor faux pas on his part.
Now that she mentioned it, he did remember her telling him.
Unfortunately she’d told him right after he’d come home completely exhausted from his almost nightly pickup basketball session.
He was relieved that she didn’t call him out on this latest memory gaffe, something which often did irk her.
Instead, to his relief, she concentrated on her shower.
Five minutes later they were both finished and stepped out into the bathroom proper to begin toweling off.
“After today’s meeting, do you see yourself doing more autopsies like you’d hoped?” Jack asked, trying to change the issue to something she’d find more appealing as he dried his back.
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Laurie said. “We’ll have to see. I am hoping that we’ll come to an agreement this morning, at least between us and Hunter College, which is the last sticking point for getting the new morgue in the best location in the new science center. We’re close. There’s no question.”
After hanging up his towel, Jack stepped into the changing room to start dressing.
Meanwhile Laurie, facing the mirror over her sink, turned her attention to her hair. “It’s so different with the kids gone!” she called while getting out the hair dryer. Before switching it on, she added: “I have to tell you: It’s hard for me to adjust, especially it being only the second morning.”
“You got that right,” Jack called back through the open bathroom door loud enough to be heard.
That Sunday the whole family had driven up to the Catskill Mountains to visit two different summer camps.
At the first, they had deposited Jack Junior—or JJ—who was now fourteen and in the eighth grade, and then at the second it had been Emma, who was now age eight and had been in a specialized school for almost a year.
Although JJ had been to camp every summer since he was seven, this was the first time for Emma.
Since she was on the autistic spectrum, Jack and Laurie both had their fingers crossed that the camp experience was going to work out.
Yet they were hopeful since they had been encouraged by Emma’s behavior therapist, who’d been very much in favor of the plan, and so far they’d not heard of any problems.
“And with Dorothy and Caitlin gone at the same time, it’s like a different planet around here,” Jack added, still yelling.
Dorothy Montgomery was Laurie’s mother, who had been living with them for the last several years, following the death of Laurie’s emotionally distant, cardiac surgeon father.
Dorothy was currently visiting a friend out in the Hamptons.
Caitlin O’Connell, their live-in nanny, was off on her yearly two-week vacation visiting family on the West Coast.
“Truly,” Laurie agreed as she continued to blow-dry her long, thick auburn hair, which she considered her best feature. It took significant effort to deal with it each morning, but she thought it well worth it.
When finished dressing in his summer uniform of stone-colored khaki trousers, chambray shirt, and knit tie, he stepped back into the bathroom just as Laurie was putting away the dryer.
“When I came in from basketball last night did I tell you the news about Warren? I can’t remember.”
“I don’t think so,” Laurie said as she leaned toward the mirror and began to apply a small amount of makeup. “What’s up with Warren?”
Warren, an athletic Black man in his early thirties and a natural born leader, lived in the neighborhood and played basketball as often as Jack on the court just across the street from Jack and Laurie’s townhouse.
This was the court that Jack had paid to have renovated with new backboards and outdoor lighting.
According to Jack, Warren was the best player of the thirty or so local men, women, boys, and girls who showed up on a reasonably regular basis for pickup games, mostly during the spring, summer, and fall.
Jack, Laurie, and Warren had become quite good friends and had even all gone on a wild trip to West Africa that they still frequently reminisced about.
“He told me last night that he has a new girlfriend who he wants us to meet. What do you think? Are you up for it? I told him that I thought the timing was good because JJ and Emma were off at camp.”
“I’m sorry to hear he’s given up on the last one,” Laurie said. “I rather liked her. But, sure, we can get together with them, provided it doesn’t turn into a late night unless it’s Friday or Saturday. But you know that. What’s her name?”
“Oops,” Jack said, making an exaggerated painful expression. “I was afraid you’d ask. To be truthful, I don’t remember. But I’ll ask him tonight.”
“No need,” Laurie said, finishing with her makeup. “I’ll meet her when I meet her, so say yes. Try to pick a weekend.”
“Will do,” Jack said as he headed out of the changing room on his way down to the kitchen.
“I’ll make some coffee then be on my way.
” Jack made it a point, come rain or shine, to be on his bike by quarter of seven to get to the OCME well before any of the other medical examiners, or MEs as they liked to refer to themselves.