He received a look of utter contempt.
The doctor pulled down the green sheet that covered the now naked remains of Albert J. Monahan, leaving only the legs below the knees covered.
“There is no wound,” she said. “Gunshots, as you probably know, make at least entrance wounds. So do knives. Will you take my word that I have carefully examined the body? Or would you like me to turn him over?”
“What about the head?”
“I checked the head.”
“Doctor, what about a very small caliber wound? A .22. That’s less than a quarter of an inch in diameter?”
“Closer to a fifth
of an inch, actually,” the doctor said dryly. “Let me tell you what happened: The cops in the van brought this man in here. They said he had been shot. A superficial examination showed no wound. But—there was time; he was dead on arrival—and though I had no obligation to do so, I checked for a wound. I was thinking .22. We get a lot of them in here. There is no puncture wound of any kind. Sorry.”
“And you think he had a heart attack?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. The autopsy will come up with the answer, I’m sure.” She picked up the green sheet. “Seen enough?”
“Yes, thank you.”
She pulled the sheet up over Albert J. Monahan.
More than enough. I’m going to remember this one a long time. This one I’m responsible for. The phrase is “dereliction of duty.”
Jesus H. Christ, what’s going on around here?
A Highway Patrolman pushed open the swinging door.
“You said to tell you when Washington got here, Inspector.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Wohl said.
She responded with a just perceptible nod of her head.
When he stepped into the corridor he saw Jason Washington walking down it toward him, and Tony Harris turning off into a side corridor.
“What’s he doing here?” Wohl snapped.
“He’s going to talk to the widow,” Washington said evenly. “He knows the hospital priest. The chapel is down that way. Or do you mean, ‘what’s he doing here’? The answer to which is that until I hear differently from you, he works for me. I am under the assumption that means I say where and when.”
“I’m sorry,” Wohl said after a moment. “I’m on edge. I picked last night to tie one on.”
“You look like hell,” Washington said.
“I have just been informed that there are no puncture wounds in the body—”
“There have to be,” Washington interrupted him.
“—the doctor says she thinks he probably had a heart attack.”
“Wilhite told me that Mrs. Monahan told him she saw him being shot. By a cop.”
“He’s one of those who came on duty?”
Washington nodded.
“Where is he, where are they, all of them, the three going off duty, now?”