Cure (2010) sam-10 Read online

  “Everything okay?”

  “Everything is just fine,” Leticia answered.

  “Did he have his lunch?”

  “No, I’m denying him food and water,” Leticia said, then laughed. “Just kidding. He ate a big lunch and now he’s sleeping. He couldn’t be better. Now get back to work.”

  “Aye, aye, madam,” Laurie said.

  After a few more parting comments, Laurie hung up the handset.

  Then she looked at her desk and noted again the lack of reminders about pending cases. All there was was the single case file of her unidentified patient. She pondered how little she knew of the man and how sad it was that he was all alone in the cooler downstairs. She wondered where his wife was, and if she missed him. Laurie chewed her cheek and tried to think if there was some way to learn anything more, anything at all about her lonely, unidentified corpse.

  Suddenly she snatched up the case folder and dumped out its contents to find Cheryl’s note. What she was suddenly interested in was the time of the 911 call. After she found it, five-thirty-seven p.m., she turned on her monitor and searched through her address book for the 911 call center out in Brooklyn. With a mind-set of excitement, which she tried to suppress, she dialed and asked to be connected to her old contact, Cynthia Bellows.

  When she got Cynthia’s voicemail, she left a message, then gave Detective Ron Steadman another try. If he was still resistant, she’d go to Lou Soldano. She imagined that Lou, having recently made captain, could certainly light a fire under the man.

  To Laurie’s surprise, he answered after a couple of rings and sounded like a different man—maybe not much friendlier but significantly more awake. Laurie reintroduced herself and asked if he remembered her from her call that morning.

  “Vaguely,” Ron said. “What was it about?”

  “An unidentified Asian corpse from the Fifty-ninth Street station that came in last evening.”

  “Now I remember! You were giving me a hard time about not rushing out and single-handedly solving the identity crisis. What’s up? Did someone suddenly show up and make the ID?”

  “I wish,” Laurie said. “No ID yet, so I thought I’d view the tapes from the subway platform cameras.”

  Ron did not respond immediately. Then, with some exasperation, he said, “Why would you want me to have to call around for tapes on a natural-death case, especially one that’s not yet twenty-four hours old? That’s a lot of work for nothing if a family member shows up in the next couple of hours.”

  “How do I get copies of the tapes, or whatever form they come in?” Laurie persisted. She heard Ron take in a deep breath.

  “You really want to go through with this?”

  “I do. The nine-one-one caller said the victim might have had a seizure, but he wasn’t certain. It would be important to confirm it. It would point toward a neurological cause of death rather than a circulatory cause, meaning we’d look harder at the brain even though on gross there was nothing.”

  “Jesus, lady . . .” Ron began.

  “The name is Laurie Stapleton,” Laurie interrupted.

  “I got a hundred-plus cases here on my desk that are all unsolved and that need my attention. This really isn’t the best use of my time—the case isn’t even a day old.”

  “How much work effort does it take?” Laurie questioned, hoping not to be denied.

  “I got to get in touch with officers at the Brooklyn Special Investigation Unit and tell them what I need.”

  “Okay,” Laurie said. “Is that it?”

  “I suppose,” Ron said, a bit embarrassed at how simple Laurie’s request really was.

  “How do you get the information?”

  “As an e-mail. I’ll burn a disk or two for you. It’s a lot of data.”

  “Could you just forward it as an e-mail attachment to me?”

  “I know it sounds funny, but I’m not permitted to do that. But I can give you a disk if you’re who you say you are.”

  “When could you do it?”

  “Now, if I reach the right people. What period of time at the subway station are you looking for?”

  “I guess about a half-hour centered on the nine-one-one call at five-thirty-seven p.m., so let’s say five-ten to five-fifty-five.”

  “Okay,” Ron said. “All nine cameras?”

  “Might as well be thorough.”

  “That’s over six hours of watching time. Are you up to it?”

  “Funny you should ask. I happen to have a lot of time on my hands. How soon would you have it in hand?”

  “Let me make the call to the Transit Bureau Special Investigation Unit. I’ll knock it right out as soon as they send it to me. Maybe within the hour.”

  “My goodness,” Laurie commented. She’d found over the years that city servants were never quite so accommodating. Ron had gone from one extreme to the other.

  “I’ll call you right back. Is it a deal?”

  “Absolutely,” Laurie said, but before hanging up, she added, “I hope you don’t take offense, but you’re a different person than you were this morning, and it’s meant as a compliment.”

  “This morning you caught me before coffee and my Red Bull.”

  No sooner had Laurie disconnected when the phone rang. Picking it back up, she found herself talking with Cynthia Bellows out at the 911 call center. After some small talk, Laurie described the details of the case and said she’d like to contact the 911 caller.

  “Do you have the time of the call?” Cynthia asked. “That makes it a lot easier.”

  Laurie gave the time.

  “Okay, I got it here on the screen,” Cynthia said, “and let’s see what we have. Actually, we have three calls, though I suppose you want only the first. The other two callers were told that the incident had already been reported and that police and the EMT had been dispatched.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Laurie said. As Laurie reached for a pen and paper, she heard the click of her call-waiting. Excusing herself and asking Cynthia to hold on for a moment, Laurie changed lines, and as she had expected, it was Ron.

  “Good news, my friend,” Ron said. “I got right through to the guys at the Special Investigation Unit. Apparently, there are two more cameras besides the nine of the new security system. For the old system, that includes the two nonrecording cameras used for the train’s engineer and conductor to make sure all doors are clear, plus two more recording cameras at the fare booth and at the elevator.”

  Feeling anxious about Cynthia hanging on the other line, Laurie interrupted Ron and asked if she could call him right back.

  “No need,” Ron said. “I just wanted to let you know there’d be two additional feeds. I should have the material in a few minutes, and I’ll have the disks burned so you can come get them any time you want.”

  “Terrific,” Laurie said. “Your precinct is on West Fifty-fourth Street?”

  “Three-oh-six West Fifty-fourth. I’ll see you when I see you. I’ll be here until five.”

  Laurie thanked Ron profusely, then switched back to Cynthia, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry,” Laurie began.

  “No problem,” Cynthia said graciously. “Do you have something to write on?”

  The caller’s name was Robert Delacroix. After thanking Cynthia and disconnecting, Laurie dialed Robert Delacroix immediately. While waiting for the call to go through, she wrote the number on a three-by-five card and added it to the case file. When she got his outgoing message, she left her cell phone number with the request that he call her back as soon as possible. She explained that she was a medical examiner but was leaving her mobile number, not her office number, as she was on her way to the police station.

  With that taken care of, Laurie headed outside to catch a cab for the Midtown North to meet up with Ron. While she sat in traffic, Laurie’s mind turned to JJ and how well he was apparently doing in Leticia’s care. Suddenly her mobile phone rang. It was Robert Delacroix.

  Laurie thanked the man for calling and thanked him a
lso for acting as a responsible citizen and making the 911 call in the first place. “Too many New Yorkers are capable of just walking past someone in distress,” Laurie continued.

  “At first I assumed someone had already called, like I guess a lot of people generally think. But then I said, Hell, there’s no reason why not to call even if I’m not the first.”

  “As I mentioned on your voicemail, I’m a medical examiner,” Laurie said.

  “I guess the man on the subway platform died.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “That’s too bad. He looked young.”

  “Can I ask you exactly what you saw?”

  “Well, it wasn’t much. I mean, it all happened so quickly. The train had been delayed, and the platform was really crowded. When the doors opened, there was a surge forward, making it difficult for the people trying to get off the train.”

  “So there was a little pushing and shoving.”

  “I’d say a lot of pushing and shoving. Anyway, out of the corner of my eye, no more than three or four feet away, I saw this Asian man, he was kinda bucking, like his head was going back and forth.”

  “You thought he was having a seizure or something—at least that’s what you said.”

  “That’s how I described it to the operator. I said to myself, It’s so damn crowded the man is having a seizure and he can’t even fall down. I mean, we were all packed together and pushing forward because everyone was afraid they weren’t going to get on the train.”

  “I get the picture,” Laurie said. “Did you try to help?”

  “Not really. He was to my left at that point. I’m not even sure I could have gotten to him if I’d tried. I was being pushed ahead by the people behind me. And to be truthful, I thought the people right next to him were attempting to help. In fact, when I got to the train’s door, I tried to look back. At first I couldn’t even see him because he wasn’t all that tall.”

  “We’re here, lady,” the cabdriver said, looking at Laurie in the rearview mirror.

  “Can you hold on?” Laurie asked Robert, a little flustered at her predicament. “I’m in a taxi and have to pay and get out.”

  “I can wait,” Robert assured her.

  Laurie paid the driver and climbed from the cab to stand in front of the Midtown North Precinct, its flag snapping in the breeze and a bevy of cop cars parked every which way.

  “I’m back,” Laurie said. “You were saying ...”

  “I was saying that as I was boarding, I got a fleeting look at the man lying on the platform. Standing by him were two other Asians. But it was truly fleeting, because I was looking through a bunch of other riders pushing to get on the train, some of whom didn’t make it. I was also getting my cell phone out.”

  “At that time, did it look like the man was still seizing?”

  “It happened so fast, with such a limited view, but if I had to guess, I’d say no. I was also dialing the nine-one-one operator to get the call in before the doors closed, and I lost the little signal I had.”

  “Look,” Laurie said. “I really appreciate your being willing to talk with me. You have my number if anything else comes to mind, anything at all.”

  “I will,” Robert said. “Actually, now that you’ve made me relive the moment, I feel guilty at having boarded the train. Maybe I should have tried a little harder to see if I could have helped.”

  “Don’t torture yourself,” Laurie said. “You made a nine-one-one call so medical help could arrive.”

  “That’s nice of you to say.”

  Laurie disconnected her call and then climbed the steps into the busy precinct.

  11

  MARCH 25, 2010

  THURSDAY, 2:45 p.m.

  Louie felt energized as he neared his restaurant. He’d used the bus ride from Rikers Island to consider Paulie’s advice, and by the time he got back to his car he’d decided to follow Paulie’s suggestions. It was now clear in his mind that there was a time to avoid violence, and there was a time in which violence was the only solution. And this was one of those situations. At the same time, he was convinced he was right about not taking out Hideki. There were too many negatives, including the concern of losing the Japanese income stream and flow of crystal meth, even short-term. Instead, the disappearance of Susumu Nomura and Yoshiaki Eto was the perfect message to everyone, but most specifically to Hideki. The plan wasn’t necessarily going to be easy, but it was doable. Accordingly, Louie had started by calling Hideki and requesting a meeting at the Venetian for three-thirty to go over the evening’s plans, to which Hideki had immediately agreed.

  Louie parked his car in his spot at the rear of the restaurant and walked in the back door. He knew all the guys would still be there, because after he’d made the call to Hideki to set up the meeting for that afternoon, he’d called Carlo.

  “Did you get to see Paulie?” Carlo had asked. “And do we have a plan for tonight with the two crazy-ass Japs?”

  “Yes to both questions,” Louie had said. “We have a plan but with different rules of engagement.”

  “How so?” Carlo had asked, not trying to hide his disappointment.

  “You’ll know soon enough,” Louie had snapped back. “Why I’m calling is to make sure you guys are still there when I return.”

  “We’re here,” Carlo had said.

  After walking through a short hallway containing the restrooms, Louie pounded open the swinging door leading into the kitchen, catching Benito off guard as he sat on the countertop, shooting the breeze with the chef, John Franco. Guiltily, Benito dropped his feet to the floor and stood. Louie glared at him for a moment but quickly decided he was too busy to ream him out for behavior the health department would hardly condone. “Did the guys eat?”

  “Yes, they did,” Benito answered smartly.

  “Is there any of the pasta left?”

  “I have the sauce,” John Franco said. “I’ll have fresh pasta in ten minutes.”

  Without answering, Louie pushed through the swinging doors leading into the dining room. Carlo, Brennan, Arthur, and Ted were sitting around the table, poker chips and dollar bills piled up in the table’s center. Empty espresso cups littered the table’s periphery. Carlo slid out from the booth so Louie could slide into his usual spot.

  “So how was Paulie?” Carlo asked after Louie had nodded a greeting to each of his henchmen.

  “Weird,” Louie said. “He’s lost a lot of weight. Plus, he’s found God.”

  “You mean he’s become a Bible banger?” Carlo questioned.

  “I don’t really know,” Louie admitted. “He said he’d found the Lord and then talked like the old Paulie Cerino. The issue didn’t come up again until almost the end of our talk, and then only briefly. It might be an act for the parole board. I think he’s getting desperate about not getting parole.”

  “So what’s the plan for tonight?” Carlo asked.

  Louie then told them about his conversation with Paulie, trying to remember all the details, such as the clever idea of the diversionary explosion concept to convince Hideki that Louie was serious about helping with the break-in. The only time he paused was when Benito brought out Louie’s pasta and placed the steaming plate under his nose. Benito poured him a glass of Barolo and another of sparkling water.

  “Will there be anything else?” Benito asked.

  Louie waved the waiter off without responding, and as soon as Benito was out of earshot, he went back to his conversation with Paulie and Paulie’s suggestions, most specifically about getting rid of both Susumu and Yoshiaki.

  “So we’re going on the offensive here?” Carlo asked. He was pleased and happy to show it.

  “Most definitely,” Louie responded. “In this business, sometimes you need to use violence to keep the peace. We can’t have the likes of those two wandering around shooting whomever and wherever they please. It gives us all a bad name. At the same time, when you use violence you have to limit the fallout, which brings us to the morgue issue. You
all understand that, don’t you?”

  No one spoke, causing Louie to repeat the question.

  “I guess so,” Carlo said. As the head enforcer, Carlo was expected to speak for the group.

  “The point is that it is important Satoshi’s death continues to be thought of as a natural death. We would be accomplices if it were considered a homicide, and we don’t want that.”

  “Surely not,” Carlo agreed.

  “Paulie was also insistent about this medical examiner, Laurie Montgomery. We have to make sure she’s not associated with the case. If she is, we have to do something to get her off the case. It’s as simple as that.”

  “What exactly do we do if she is on the case?” Carlo asked.

  “Paulie didn’t have any suggestions. He was just insistent she not be involved. But we’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it.”

  “Now let’s go back to Susumu Nomura and Yoshiaki Eto,” Carlo said. “We’re supposed to pick them up as if we are going to help them break into iPS USA but whack them instead.”

  “That’s it,” Louie said. “And I don’t want their bodies found. Drive them way out to the tip of Brooklyn, way out near the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. I want them in the ocean, not the bay.”

  Carlo looked at Brennan and shrugged, wondering if his partner had any questions.

  “How are we going to pick them up?” Brennan asked. “Like last night, in front of their apartments on the Lower East Side?”

  “No,” Louie said. “There’s always the chance someone will spot you hanging around their neighborhood. I want to arrange a pickup in a public place. Do you have any preference?

  Carlo and Brennan exchanged a glance.

  “Come on, guys, give me a location. Hideki’s going to be here at three-thirty, and I want to have this planned out.”

  “How about Union Square in front of the Barnes and Noble bookstore,” Brennan said. “There are always enough people loitering around the area.”

  “That’s settled,” Louie said, taking another bite of his pasta. “What time should we say for them to be in Union Square?”

  “Well,” Brennan said. “If we’re supposed to be breaking into a Midtown Fifth Avenue office building, it shouldn’t be too early.”