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Laurie looked down at Calvin and could tell that his eyes had narrowed. She sensed that he knew what was coming and didn't approve. She glanced back at Jack, and as soon as her eyes connected with his, he positioned his fingers like a gun and pretended to shoot himself in the head.

With such negative vibes, Laurie felt even more insecure. To collect her thoughts, she looked down at the lectern's defaced wooden surface with its myriad initials and doodles encased with ballpoint-pen marks. Vowing to avoid making eye contact with either Calvin or Jack, she raised her eyes and launched into a short description of her Sudden Adult Death Syndrome, or SADS, a term she admitted she'd coined when talking with a professional colleague five weeks ago, about four totally unexpected, hospital-based cardiac arrests that had resisted resuscitation. She said she now had six cases spanning a six-week period, all of which had similar demographics: young, healthy, and within twenty-four hours of elective surgery. She went on to say that there was no pathology on gross or microscopic, although on the last two cases, she had yet to do the microscopic, since they had been posted that very morning. She concluded by saying that despite toxicology failing to come up with any possible arrhythmic agent, she suspected that the manner of death in these cases was not natural or accidental.

Laurie let her voice trail off. Her mouth was bone-dry. She would have loved a drink of water, but she stayed where she was. The implication of her monologue was immediately clear to the group, and for a few seconds, silence reigned in the conference room. Then a hand shot up, and Laurie called on the individual.

"What about electrolytes: sodium, potassium, and particularly calcium?"

"The lab reported all electrolytes from all the usual sample sources to be entirely normal," Laurie responded. She then called on another person who raised his hand.

"Are the patients related in any way other than all being young, healthy, and having just had surgery?"

"Not that is apparent. I've made it a point to search for commonalities, but I haven't found any other than what I have mentioned. The cases involve mostly different doctors, different procedures, different anesthetic agents, and, for the most part, different medications, even for postoperative pain."

"Where have they occurred?"

"All six have been at the same hospital: the Manhattan General."

"Which has an extremely low death rate," Calvin snapped. He'd had enough. He stood up, approached the podium, and used his bulk to nudge Laurie aside. He bent the microphone up, and a harsh squeal emanated from the speakers as if in protest.

"Calling these disparate cases at this stage 'a series' is misleading and prejudicial because, as Dr. Montgomery has admitted, they are not related. I've told Dr.

Montgomery this before, and I'm telling her again. I'm also telling this august assemblage that this is an in-house discussion that doesn't leave this room. OCME is not going to tarnish the reputation of one of the city's premier tertiary-care centers with unsubstantiated innuendo."

"Six is rather a lot for a coincidence," Jack said. He had revived when Laurie got up to speak. Although he was not asleep, he was slouched back in his seat with his legs draped over the seat in front of him.

"Would you kindly show some respect, Dr. Stapleton," Calvin growled.

Jack put his feet down on the floor and sat up. "Four was borderline, but six is too many when they are all at the same hospital. Still, I'm going to vote for accidental.

Something in the hospital is affecting these patients' conduction systems."

Dick Katzenburg raised his hand. Calvin motioned with his head for him to speak.

"My colleague at the Queens office just reminded me that we saw some similar cases," Dick said. "It's our recollection that the demographics were quite similar: all relatively young and supposedly healthy. The last case was at least a few months ago, and we haven't had one since."

"How many overall?" Laurie asked.

Dick leaned toward Bob Novak, his deputy, and listened for a moment, then straightened up. "We think it was also six. But it was spread over a period of several months with a number of examiners. Just when we began to be a bit curious about them, they stopped, and as a consequence, they have sort of dropped off our radar. It's my recollection that all were eventually signed out as natural, even though no significant pathology was found. I know for certain that toxicology was negative on all of them, because that would have certainly been brought to my attention."

"Were they postoperative?" Laurie asked. She was taken aback, excited, and pleased.

It would be déjà vu if her series were to double from having brought up the issue at a Thursday conference. And if it did double, the profile of these cases would surely be even more of a mental diversion than it had been to date.

"I believe so," Dick said. "Sorry that I can't be more definitive."

"I understand," Laurie said. "Where did these deaths occur?"

"At Saint Francis Hospital."

"Ah, the plot thickens," Jack commented. "Isn't St. Francis another AmeriCare hospital?"

"Dr. Stapleton!" Calvin snapped. "Kindly maintain a modicum of decorum! Allow yourself to be recognized if you wish to contribute to the conversation."

"It is an AmeriCare institution," Dick said, turning toward Jack and ignoring Calvin.

"How soon can I get their names and accession numbers?" Laurie asked.

"I'll e-mail them to you as soon as I get back to the Queens office," Dick said. "Or we can just call my secretary. I think she could find the list."

"I'd like them as soon as possible," Laurie said. "I'd like to get their hospital charts, and the sooner I get the accession numbers to one of our investigators, the better."

"Fine by me," Dick said agreeably.

"Any other business?" Calvin asked. He scanned the group, then concluded the meeting. "See you all next Thursday."

As most of the medical examiners stood up, stretched, and recommenced their conversations that the meeting had cut short, Dick made his way over to Laurie. He had his cell phone pressed up against his ear and was describing the location of a folder in his desk. He motioned for Laurie to wait.

Glancing over at Jack, Laurie saw him immediately duck out of the conference room.

She had hoped to talk with him, even if only briefly, and thank him for being ultimately supportive during her mini-presentation.

"Do you have something to write on?" Dick asked.

Laurie produced a pen and the back of an envelope. While Laurie kept her finger on the envelope to keep it steady on the writing surface of one of the chairs, Dick wrote down the names and the accession numbers. He thanked his secretary and rang off.

"Well, there you have them," he said. "Let me know if I can be of assistance in any other way. I have to say, it does seem curious."

"I imagine I'll be able to access what I need from the data bank, but if I can't, I'll be in touch. Thanks, Dick! This is the second time you have helped me out. Do you remember those cocaine cases twelve years ago?"

"Now that you mention it, of course I remember, although it seems like it was in a different lifetime. At any rate, I'm glad to be of service."

"Dr. Montgomery!" Calvin called. "Can I speak to you for a moment?" Although his comment was presented as a request, it was more of a command.

Laurie gave Dick a parting wave and then stepped warily over to Calvin. "If these cases of Dick's turn out to resemble yours demographically, I want you to let me know.

In the meantime, the proscription of talking about your supposed series with anyone outside of the OCME still holds. Am I clear on that? You and I have had disagreements about information leaks to the media in the past, and I don't want it to happen again."

"I understand," Laurie said nervously. "Don't worry! I learned my lesson, and I certainly would not go to the media. At the same time, I must admit I have been speaking with the chief of the medical staff over at the Manhattan General right from the beginning about the cases. He happens to be a friend."

"What's his name?"

"Dr. Roger Rousseau."

"Since he's on the staff, I suppose it's safe to assume he is aware of the sensitive nature of the issue."

"Most definitely."

"I suppose it's equally safe to assume he's not apt to go to the media."

"Hardly," Laurie said. She was feeling more confident. Calvin was definitely in a mild-mannered mood. "Yet Dr. Rousseau is rightfully concerned, and I believe he would want to hear if Dick's cases are indeed similar. It would give him the opportunity to talk with his counterpart at Saint Francis and make him feel he's not the only one with such a problem."

"Well, I don't see any harm in talking with him, provided you are clear the OCME

officially does not currently agree with your assessment of the manner of death, and at the moment will back the Queens office's disposition."

"Certainly, and thank you," Laurie said. It was good to clear the air. She'd carried a twinge of guilt from having talked to Roger about the deaths when she'd first met him, despite Calvin's wishes.

Leaving the conference room, Laurie headed directly to the investigators' office. She was beginning to calm down from the anxiety of talking in front of the group and from having to confront Calvin. She felt even better when she found Cheryl Meyers at her desk, since her workday had officially ended an hour earlier. In Laurie's estimation, Cheryl was the most talented investigator at the OCME and just as hard a worker as Janice. Laurie had Cheryl copy the list of names and accession numbers Dick had provided, and Laurie asked her to put in a request for copies of the patients' charts from St. Francis Hospital.

"What about the autopsy folders and death certificates?" Cheryl asked.

As Laurie had told Dick, she said she'd first try to see what she could obtain from the computerized database. If she needed help for hard copies, Laurie said she'd get back to her.

Clutching her envelope and silently reading the names over and over, Laurie rode up in the elevator. Her intuition told her loudly and clearly that the demographics and details of this new list of victims was going to match her own. Her SADS series was now twelve people.

Once on the fifth floor, Laurie hesitated. It took her a moment to build up her confidence. She wanted to go down to Jack's office and talk to him, even if only briefly, about her disturbing, potential epiphany she had had in Rogers office. She thought it would assuage her anxieties to share them, but she didn't quite know what she wanted to say or even how to begin. Attempting to steel herself against all the uncertainties, she took a fortifying breath and started off.

The closer she got, the slower she walked. She hesitated again before stepping into view in the doorway, appalled at her indecision. She was becoming either a coward or hopelessly wishy-washy, or a mixture of both. Laurie looked back longingly over her shoulder at her own door some forty feet away and waffled.

Hearing a desk chair scrape back within the office in front of her, and sensing that Jack was coming out, Laurie almost fled in a panic. Fortunately, there wasn't enough time, and it wasn't even Jack. It was Chet who literally bumped into her in his haste.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!" Chet offered as he grabbed Laurie by the shoulders to keep from bowling her over as the two stumbled back a step. He immediately let go of Laurie and bent down to pick up the jacket he'd dropped.

"It's quite all right," Laurie said. She recovered quickly, although her pulse was racing.

"I'm off to my body-sculpting class," Chet offered as an explanation. "Obviously, I'm late. And if you are looking for Jack, you missed him. He had some important basketball game at his neighborhood court and bolted out of here ten minutes ago."

"Oh, too bad," Laurie said. She was actually relieved. "No problem. I'll catch him in the morning."

Chet waved good-bye and ran down the corridor toward the elevator. Laurie walked toward her office. Suddenly, she was very tired. The day had taken its toll. She looked forward to getting back to her apartment and taking a hot bath.

As Laurie suspected, her office was empty. She sat down at her desk and typed in her password. For the next thirty minutes, she downloaded the records on the six cases from Queens. Although the forensic investigators' reports were not even close in quality to those done by Janice, there was enough information for Laurie to conclude that the cases were indeed similar to hers. The deaths were all in the early-morning hours between two and four, the ages ranged from twenty-six to forty-two, none of the patients had a history of cardiac problems, and all were within twenty-four hours of elective surgery.

When she was finished, Laurie reached for her phone and dialed Roger's number. She had promised to call, and this was as good a time as any, especially since she had something particular to say besides explaining her behavior in his office. As the call went through, she found herself hoping on this occasion to get his voice-mail to avoid having to resist being drawn into a conversation about things that she didn't want to discuss, but unfortunately, Roger answered on the second ring with his usual cheerful voice. When he realized it was Laurie, he became immediately solicitous.

"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm holding my own," Laurie answered. She wasn't going to lie. "I'm looking forward to getting back to my apartment. It hasn't been my idea of a great day. In the meantime, I've learned something within the hour that I think you will find interesting. During our Thursday-afternoon interdepartmental conference, it was brought to my attention that there had been six deaths at Saint Francis Hospital in Queens that so far sound strikingly similar to those at the Manhattan General."

"Really?" Roger questioned. He was both surprised and interested.

"I've downloaded their death certificates and investigative reports, and I've ordered copies of their hospital charts. Getting the charts will take a while, but in the interim, I'll get what I can over to you tomorrow. I assume you'll want to discuss this with the chief of the medical staff at Saint Francis."