Page 18 of Return of the Spider
Sampson shrugged. “They’ll handle that in the office. But I wouldn’t hold out much hope for an answer coming from the school. My gut says this was random.”
“Or there’s a psycho involved who’s running under the radar.”
“You’re Mr. Happy these days.”
“Just giving you the spectrum of possibilities.”
“Based on your PhD research, Dr. Cross?”
“That’s correct. And you probably shouldn’t refer to me as Dr. Cross.”
“Why not?” John said, taking the ramp for the FourteenthStreet Bridge. “You have a doctorate. And it adds a little mystery that might unsettle someone we’re talking to.”
“What, you think it’ll make people think I can read their minds?”
“That would help,” he said and chuckled. “Can you imagine?”
“Walking around with even more voices in my head? Pass.”
The radio squawked. It was Chief Pittman’s assistant, ordering us to meet the chief at the ME’s office. The ME had put a rush on Conrad Talbot’s autopsy.
“Meaning Chief Pittman pressured the ME to put a rush on it,” Sampson commented after I hung up.
“Could be.”
We entered the offices of the medical examiner twenty minutes later. Chief Pittman was already there waiting, along with Detectives Corina Straub Diehl and Edgar Kurtz.
“You were supposed to come to my office right after you notified the families,” Pittman growled. “The three of us were waiting.”
Sampson got that look in his eye that I knew meant he might be about to say the wrong thing, so I jumped in first. “Apologies, Chief. After we spoke to the families, we went to the Charles School so we could talk to students and staff before the media got hold of the story.”
The chief of detectives said, “The mediahasgotten hold of the story. They’re already teasing it for the evening news.”
Kurtz, a tree stump of a man with a shiny bald head, squinted and asked, “What did you learn about Talbot from his family and friends?”
I said, “Conrad was the all-around good guy, seemed to cartwheel and soar through life. No public beefs. Started datingAbby Howard about a year ago. It will all be in our reports by the end of the day.”
Sampson said, “One thing. Although I believe this shooting is most likely a random event, we told the student body there would be an anonymous tip line established for information about Conrad and Abby.”
Pittman’s eyebrows rose. “A tip line specifically for the school?”
We nodded.
Detective Corina Diehl said, “It’s not a bad idea. Kids might open up to us.”
Pittman’s nostrils flared as he studied us both. “Do it. Contact tech as soon as this autopsy’s done.”
At that moment, Emily Chin, the chief medical examiner, came through the autopsy suite’s double doors and said, “Okay, we’re ready for you, Chief.”
The chief of detectives looked over at me. “You’ve seen a few of these, Cross?”
“Only one so far,” I said.
“Rookie,” Kurtz said. “Just don’t leave your lunch near me.”
“Promise,” I said, and I followed Sampson and Dr. Chin through the double doors and into a hallway that reeked of antiseptic.
She took us through the first door on the left into an autopsy room. The corpse lay beneath a green cloth on a stainless-steel table.
