“If it’s anyone’s fault, it is mine,” Kashmira said, not particularly convincingly. “I shouldn’t have scheduled things so tightly. But we can make this short. We really only need a simple decision from you, and we can do the rest. We just need to know if you intend to embalm or cremate. Just tell us! We’ll make it happen.”

Jennifer rubbed her eyes and audibly sighed. “I could have done that from L.A.”

“Yes, you could have,” Kashmira agreed.

Jennifer opened her eyes, blinking enough to get the foreign body sensation to disappear, then regarded the expectant Mrs. Varini. “Okay, I need to see my grandmother. That’s why I came.”

“Are you certain?”

“Of course I’m certain!” Jennifer snapped before she could control herself. She hadn’t meant to be quite so demonstrable. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

“She is here for sure. I just wasn’t certain you’d want to see her. It’s been since Monday evening.”

“She’s been in a cooler, hasn’t she?”

“Yes certainly. I just thought maybe a young girl like yourself would not want—”

“I’m twenty-six and a fourth-year medical student,” Jennifer interjected irritably. “I don’t think you have to worry about my sensibilities.”

“Very well,” Kashmira said. “As soon as you finish your coffee, we’ll have you see your grandmother.”

“I’ve had enough coffee. I’m starting to get jittery.” Jennifer pushed her half-filled cup and saucer back from the edge of the table and stood up. While Kashmira did the same, Jennifer paused for a moment to let a touch of dizziness pass.

Using one of the silent, ultramodern elevators, they descended a floor to the basement level, where there were mechanical rooms, a modern staff cafeteria, a staff locker room, and various and sundry storerooms. Down the central corridor and past the cafeteria was a freight dock. A single elderly guard in an oversized uniform sat in a straight-backed chair tipped against the wall.

There were two coolers, both sited on the elevator side from the cafeteria. Without comment, Kashmira led Jennifer to the nearer one and struggled to open it. Jennifer lent a hand. It certainly wasn’t a mortuary cooler, as Kashmira had admitted. The interior was filled with shelving that ran from the floor to the ceiling along the cooler’s forty-foot length. A quick glance from Jennifer told her that it contained mostly sealed foodstuff but also some sealed medical supplies that needed refrigeration. In the center was a hospital gurney whose occupant was completely covered with a clean hospital sheet. The cooler’s smell was mildly cloying.

“There’s not a lot of space,” Kashmira said. “Perhaps you’d like to go in yourself.”