“He called earlier and told me to assign it to you,” George said. “He’d already heard from someone high up in the police hierarchy and thought you’d be the best one to handle the job.”

“Now that’s ironic,” Jack said. It didn’t make sense. The deputy chief as well as the chief himself were always complaining about Jack’s lack of diplomacy and appreciation of the political and social aspects of being a medical examiner.

“If you don’t want the infectious case, I’ve got an overdose you can do,” George said.

“I’ll take the infectious case,” Jack said. He did not like overdoses. They were repetitious and the office was inundated with them. There was no intellectual challenge.

“Fine,” George said. He made a notation on his master list.

Eager to get a jump on the day, Jack stepped over to Vinnie and bent the edge of his paper down. Vinnie regarded him morosely with his coal-black eyes. Vinnie was not pleased. He knew what was coming. It happened almost every day.

“Don’t tell me you want to start already?” Vinnie whined.

“The early bird gets the worm,” Jack said. The trite expression was Jack’s stock response to Vinnie’s invariable lack of early-morning enthusiasm. The comment never ceased to further provoke the mortuary tech even though he knew it was coming.

“I wish I knew why you couldn’t come in when everyone else does,” Vinnie grumbled.

Despite appearances Jack and Vinnie got along famously. Because of Jack’s penchant for coming in early, they invariably worked together, and over the years they’d developed a well-oiled protocol. Jack preferred Vinnie over all the other techs, and Vinnie preferred Jack. In Vinnie’s words, Jack did not “dick around.”

“Have you seen Dr. Montgomery yet?” Jack asked as they headed for the elevator.

“She’s too intelligent to come in here this early,” Vinnie said. “She’s normal, which you’re not.”

As they passed through communications Jack caught sight of a light on in Sergeant Murphy’s cubbyhole office. The sergeant was a member of the NYPD Bureau of Missing Persons. He’d been assigned to the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner for years. He rarely arrived much before nine.

Curious whether the ebullient Irishman was already there, Jack detoured and glanced inside. Not only was Murphy there, he wasn’t alone. Sitting across from him was Detective Lieutenant Lou Soldano of homicide, a frequent visitor to the morgue. Jack knew him reasonably well, particularly since he was a good friend of Laurie’s. Next to him was another plain-clothes gentleman whom Jack did not recognize.

“Jack!” Lou called out when he caught sight of him. “Come in here a minute. I want you to meet someone.”

Jack stepped into the tiny room. Lou got to his feet. As usual, the detective appeared as if he’d been up all night. He hadn’t shaved—the sides of his face looked as if they had been smeared with soot—and there were dark circles under his eyes. On top of that, his clothes were disheveled, the top button of his once white shirt was open, and his tie was loosened.