Jack and Laurie then ran out of the histology lab, down the stairs, and back to Laurie’s office. As he punched in the numbers for Dr. Harold Bingham, the OCME chief, Jack could already see the problems that lay ahead: It was a high-profile case involving prominent medical researchers and the cause of death and the manner of death had been missed. At least they’d found it now, but that was unlikely to appease Bingham. It was Bingham who would have to report the findings to the various government agencies and deal with them, a job that Jack was thankful he did not have to do.

While Jack was calling Bingham, Laurie called Lou Soldano on his cell.

“Lou, it’s Laurie. Can you talk?” She dispensed with any pleasantries.

“Hey, Laurie, nice to hear your voice,” Lou said, his tone becoming wary. “What’s happening?”

“We have a situation here at the office. It seems we have a case of polonium poisoning. Remember that case in London four or five years ago?”

“Of course I do!” Lou said gravely.

Laurie took Lou through what she knew—about the mysterious medical student arriving with her Geiger counter, about how she was upset not to find the researchers’ bodies but able to test the tissue Jack had saved, and about her extreme reaction at the findings.

“If you’re right and it’s a copycat of that Russian guy and you mention the words ‘KGB’ and ‘radiation,’ this is going to be a shit storm, pardon my French. All the alphabet agencies, the media . . . And if the Russians are involved, it’s serious trouble. You gotta keep a lid on it.”

“Jack’s on the phone to Bingham right now. I’ll call the PR people and get them in lockdown mode.”

“Appreciate it, Laurie. Now we gotta find this girl. Any reason to think she’s not going back up to Columbia?”

“Hold on a second, Lou, Chet just walked in.” Laurie turned to McGovern.

“Chet, the woman, she say where she was going?”

“No, she half jogged down Thirtieth Street, heading west. I assumed she was heading back up to Columbia. Why are you asking? What’s going on, Laurie?”

Laurie ignored Chet.

“I’d guess she’s heading back to the subway, Lou. Ten, fifteen minutes ago now.”

“Lou? Are you talking to Lou Soldano?” Laurie waved him off. Jack was standing in the corner, on the phone with a finger in his other ear and saying a lot of “yessirs” and “nosirs.”

“I’ll put out an APB if you can give me a description. You said she seemed scared?”

“Very. She couldn’t wait to get out of here,” Laurie said.

“Sounds like she knows more than she should. So how would you describe her?”

“Maybe five-six, slim, about what, one-ten? Black hair, just down to the shoulder. Lovely skin.”

“ ‘Lovely skin’ ain’t a description, Laurie.”