Having slept just a couple of hours, Jack thought he’d be exhausted. But, at least initially, that hadn’t been the case. After an exhilarating cold shower and a bite to eat, Jack had cycled to the OCME in near-record time.

As keyed up as he was with newfound knowledge about alternative medicine, Jack immersed himself in his work, signing out several pending cases before grabbing an unwilling Vinnie to start work in the autopsy room. By the time Jack had come by Chet’s office he’d finished three autopsies, which included a shooting at a bar in the East Village and two suicides, one of which Jack found definitely suspicious and about which he’d already put in a call to his buddy, Lieutenant Detective Lou Soldano.

“Hey,” Chet called out again. “Anybody home? This is ridiculous. It’s like having a conversation with a zombie. I just told you the name of that VAD case of mine, and you look like you’re back having another petit mal seizure. Didn’t you sleep last night?”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, squeezing his eyes together and then blinking rapidly. “You’re right about me not getting much sleep last night, and I’m running on nervous energy. Tell me again the name!”

“Why so interested?” Chet questioned, writing the name on a piece of notepaper and handing it to Jack.

“I’m looking into alternative medicine in general, and chiropractic VAD in particular. What did you find when you looked into VAD back then?”

“You mean above and beyond the fact that no one wanted to hear about it?”

“You mean besides your chief?”

“When I presented the case on grand rounds, it ignited a kind of debate, with half the audience for and half against chiropractic, and those who were for it were really for it. It was an emotional issue that took me by surprise, especially that my boss was such a fan.”

“You said you’d gathered four or five cases. Do you think you could find their names as well? It would be interesting to unofficially compare the incidence of VAD between New York City and L.A.”

“Finding the name of my own case was relatively easy; finding the others is asking for a miracle. But I’ll check. How are you going to look into it around here?”

“Have you checked your e-mail lately?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“When you do, there’s one from me. I sent an e-mail to all the city MEs, looking for cases. Later this afternoon I’m going to go over to records and see if I can find any there as well.”

Suddenly, Jack’s BlackBerry buzzed. Always concerned it might be Laurie and a crisis at home, he snatched it out of its holster and glanced at the LCD screen. “Uh-oh!” he said. It wasn’t Laurie. It was the chief, Harold Bingham, calling from the front office downstairs.