Page 44 of Unnatural Death

“For a while the life insurance company was calling,” he says. “But I’ve not heard anything in weeks.”

“What I need you to do is to reach out to the investigator and ask if there are any updates. His name is Wally Jonas and he’s with the Prince William County P.D. Tell him I’d like to finalize the manner of death on Mike Abel’s autopsy report and death certificate but can’t until we’ve answered more questions.”

“I’m on it!” Fabian walks off, glancing up at the helicopters every other second.

“You cut him too much slack, Doc.” Marino is unfastening the straps and bungee cords lashing the second rescue basket to the skid. “If the tractor death might have anything to do with the Mansons? You shouldn’t want Fabian anywhere near it.”

“It can’t be just you and me doing everything. And what if people hadn’t given us a chance when we were getting started?”

“I got no problem with Fabian,” Lucy says. “And you know me. I’ve got problems with most people.”

Marino and I lift one of the pouched bodies as Lucy begins humming the wicked witch theme fromThe Wizard of Oz.

“Flying broom at our three o’clock and closing in,” she says sotto voce as I detect heels clicking toward us aggressively.

Maggie Cutbush is headed our way like a heat-seeking missile, her haughty face masked by designer sunglasses. She’s buttoned up in a tight skirt suit the bright red of danger, the stiletto heels of her shoes weaponlike.

“Doctor Scarpetta? Please explain what you think you’re doing.” She has a London accent that I’d find charming if I didn’t know her. Since I fired her last summer, she’s more pinched than pretty, her hair dyed as black as tar and cut severely short.

“In case you didn’t notice, we’re busy,” Lucy says to her. “You need to leave.”

“Not so fast.” She says it like an order.

“What do you want, Maggie?” I ask.

“People are most upset with you roaring in here like this and placing the safety of everyone in jeopardy.” She starts her litany. “We don’t have a helipad or any suitable place for an aircraft to operate safely. You had no right to authorize such a thing. I’m sure people will file all kinds of complaints.”

“I have no doubt you’ll encourage it.” I’m helping Lucy carry empty rescue baskets and straps off to the side where they won’t get blown when she takes off next. “And I’m not the one who authorized anything. I’m not the pilot.”

“The Secret Service doesn’t need your permission,” Lucy adds.

“There’s no precedent for anyone else daring to do such a thing. No one’s ever landed here before,” Maggie argues. “I made sure to check into the matter when I heard your niece flying in earlier to give you a ride as a favor. Nepotism, I believe it’s called.”

“We don’t have to tell you shit, in case you’ve forgotten,” Marino replies.

“You always have such a way with words.” She smiles condescendingly at him. “What’s so bad about these cases that you’re doing autopsies in the parking lot?”

“Go away, Maggie,” Lucy warns her.

“I understand that Shady Acres is complaining about you flying over this morning and deliberately blowing things around. Including Halloween-themed decorations.” Maggie places her hands on her hips like a stern headmistress, giving Lucy the evil eye. “As you likely know, they have haunted events this time of year for disadvantaged children. I’m hearing that you ruined thousands of dollars of landscaping, and flying rocks damaged some of their hearses.”

“I have video recordings of what their place looked like as I flew over.” Lucy locks the cockpit doors, and Maggie’s not going to get a rise out of her. “If they want to file false reports, fine by me. I’ll make sure it’s worth the price of admission. Up to five years in prison.”

“I’ve been on the phone with Elvin Reddy several times already, and he’s most concerned.” Maggie stares at the pouched bodies. “Why are they being isolated out here in a trailer as if they might be contagious or radioactive or something else dreadful?”

CHAPTER 17

MAGGIE IS RIGHT BEHIND us as we push the stretchers across the tarmac toward the trailer’s ramp.

“What are you keeping from everyone? Doctor Scarpetta? I insist you answer my questions.” Her demanding voice follows us.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss an active investigation.” I’m professional, even polite, while thinkinggo fuck yourself.

I envision her walking into my office without knocking, acting as if she were the de facto chief. And she was much of the time she worked for my predecessor, Elvin Reddy. He has no passion for people or forensic medicine. The two of them are just alike, their relationship symbiotic.

“What is it you don’t want the public to know about?” Maggie asks in an imperious tone, holding up her phone, outrageously recording us now.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I tell her angrily. “Put down your phone and leave.”

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