Thrusting his chair back from his desk, Jack jumped up. Throwing open his door, he ran down to Laurie’s office. He wanted her to be the first to know the news, since botulism had been her suggestion. Unfortunately, her office was empty. She was undoubtedly down in the autopsy room.

Back at his desk, Jack’s mind churned over whom to call first. With a delicious sense of reprisal, he settled on Randolph Sanders. It took a few moments to get the doctor on the line. He’d been in the middle of an autopsy. Jack had insisted to the operator it was an emergency. When Randolph finally answered, his voice had an understandable urgency.

“Ah, hello, Randolph,” Jack said buoyantly. “This is your favorite colleague, Jack Stapleton.”

“I was informed this was an emergency,” Randolph growled.

“And indeed it is,” Jack said. “Just this moment I’ve been informed that your case, Connie Davydov, which we had reason to discuss yesterday, apparently succumbed to a rather large dose of botulinum toxin.”

A pregnant pause ensued.

“How was this determined?” Randolph demanded.

“By my personal persistence,” Jack said. “I went to the funeral home, where the director graciously allowed me to take some appropriate body fluid samples.”

“I’d not heard that had occurred,” Randolph said with a voice that had lost a good deal of its edge.

“Really?” Jack questioned. “I’d assumed you had. Nevertheless, as a favor to you, since we hold each other in such high esteem, I’m calling you rather than rushing down and informing Dr. Harold Bingham.”

“I appreciate that,” Randolph managed.

“Of course there is a practical aspect,” Jack said. “Connie Davydov is a Brooklyn case. I would assume you’d like to get the body back as soon as possible. I’ll also leave in your capable hands the chore of alerting the proper authorities.”

“Of course,” Randolph said. “Thank you.”

“Not at all,” Jack said, thoroughly enjoying himself. “It’s nice to know we can help each other out on occasion.”

Jack disconnected. He couldn’t suppress a broad smile. Revenge had been sweet. It had been easy to tell just how much Randolph had been squirming.

Next, Jack put in a call to Warren. Jack briefly explained what he’d found concerning Connie and asked for Flash’s work number. It took Warren a few minutes, but he found it and gave it to Jack.

Flash worked at a moving and storage company, and it took a few minutes for him to be located. When he finally came on the line he was out of breath. He’d been moving boxes around the storage facility.

“I got the answer about Connie,” Jack said after he’d identified himself. “As Warren suggested yesterday, I think you’re going to have to take your anger out on the basketball court and not Connie’s husband.”

“He didn’t kill her?”