“Nothing like that,” Lou volunteered. “It’s just an unusual connection. The victim, Carlo Franconi, had taken the place of a midlevel crime hoodlum named Pauli Cerino. Cerino’s position had become vacant after Cerino was thrown in the slammer, mostly due to Laurie’s persistence and hard work.”

“And yours, too,” Laurie added as the elevator jerked to a stop and the doors opened.

“Yeah, but mostly yours,” Lou said.

The three got off on the basement level and headed in the direction of the mortuary office.

“Did the Cerino case involve that series of overdoses you’ve made reference to?” Jack asked Laurie.

“I’m afraid so,” Laurie said. “It was awful. The experience terrified me, and the problem is some of the characters are still around, including Cerino, although he’s in jail.”

“And not likely to be released for a long time,” Lou added.

“Or so I’d like to believe,” Laurie said. “Anyway, I’m hoping that doing the post on Franconi might provide me with some closure. I still have nightmares occasionally.”

“They sealed her in a pine coffin to abduct her from here,” Lou said. “She was taken away in one of the mortuary vans.”

“My God!” Jack said to Laurie. “You never told me about that.”

“I try not to think about it,” Laurie said. Then without missing a beat she added: “You guys wait out here.”

Laurie ducked into the mortuary office to get a copy of the list of refrigerator compartments assigned to the cases that had come in the previous night.

“I can’t imagine getting closed in a coffin,” Jack said. He shuddered. Heights were his main phobia but tight, confining spaces came a close second.

“Nor can I,” Lou agreed. “But she was able to recover remarkably. An hour or so after being released she had the presence of mind to figure out how to save us both. That was particularly humbling since I’d gone there to save her.”

“Jeez!” Jack said with a shake of his head. “Up until this minute I thought my getting handcuffed to a sink by a couple of killers who were arguing over who was going to do me in was the worst-case scenario.”

Laurie came out of the office waving a sheet of paper. “Compartment one eleven,” she said. “And I was right. The body wasn’t X-rayed.”

Laurie took off like a power walker. Jack and Lou had to hustle to catch up with her. She made a beeline for the proper compartment. Once there she slipped the autopsy folder under her left arm and used her right hand to release the latch. In one, smooth, practiced motion, she swung open the door and slid out the tray on its ball bearings.

Laurie’s brow furrowed.

“That’s odd!” she remarked. The tray was empty save for a few bloodstains and hardened secretions.

Laurie slid the tray back in and closed the door. She rechecked the number. There’d been no mistake. It was compartment one eleven.

After looking at the list once again to make certain she’d not misread the number, she reopened the compartment door, shielded her eyes from the glare of the overhead lights, and peered into the depths of the dark interior. There was no doubt: the compartment did not contain Carlo Franconi’s remains.