By Robin Cook
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It’s been quite a morning,” Lou said as they exited the autopsy room. ” “I was surprised you tolerated two,” Laurie said. They paused outside the locker room. “I’ll go through the microscopic material on Frank DePasquale, and I’ll let you know if anything interesting turns up. The only thing that I think might be interesting is the eye. ” Lou said. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Laurie looked into the lieutenant’s dark eyes. She had a feeling he wanted to ask her something else, but couldn’t seem to get it out.
There were still a few media people hanging around for more word on the “preppy murder II” case. Yesterday’s Central Park murder had made the front page of the tabloids and the local morning news. Just shy of the inner door, Laurie stopped. Over on one of the vinyl couches she spotted Bob Talbot deep in conversation with another reporter. After a moment’s hesitation Laurie strode over to the couch. “Bob, I’d like to talk to you a moment,” she said. ” Bob eagerly got to his feet and stepped aside with Laurie.
If she’d been chief she would have been equally as angry. As she approached the front steps, she wondered what the day would bring. One aspect of her work she particularly enjoyed was its unpredictability. ” She had no idea what kinds of cases and what kinds of intellectual puzzles she’d encounter that day. Just about every time she was on autopsy, she dealt with something she’d never seen, sometimes something she’d never even read about. It was a job that meant continual discovery. This morning the reception area was relatively quiet.
Blindsight by Robin Cook