cpatricia.blacknotice-第16部分

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　　〃I　don't　feel　very　powerful　these　days。　I　couldn't　even　control　my　temper　this　morning　on　my　own　driveway　in　front　of　my　niece　and　her　girlfriend　and　probably　a　few　neighbors：〃　I　blew　out　smoke。　〃And　I　feel　sick　about　it：〃
　　Marino　leaned　forward　in　his　chair。　〃You　and　me　are　the　only　two　people　who　give　a　flying　fuck　about　that　rotting　body　in　there。〃
　　He　jerked　his　thumb　toward　the　door　leading　into　the　morgue。
　　〃I　bet　Anderson　don't　even　show　up　this　morning；〃　he　went　on。　〃One　thing's　for　damn　sure；　she　ain't　gonna　hang　around　watching　you　post　him。〃
　　The　look　on　his　face　sent　my　heart　out　of　rhythm。　Marino　was　desperate。　What　he　had　done　all　his　life　was　really　all　he　had　left；　except　for　an　ex…wife　and　an　estranged　son　named　Rocky。　Marino　was　trapped　in　an　abused　body　that　most　assuredly　was　going　to　pay　him　back　one　of　these　days。　He　had　no　money　and　awful　taste　in　women。　He　was　politically　incorrect；　slovenly　and　foul…mouthed。
　　〃Well；　you're　right　about　one　thing；〃　I　said。　〃You　shouldn't　be　in　uniform。　In　fact；　you're　rather　much　a　disgrace　to　the　department。　What's　that　on　your　shirt　anyway？　Mustard　again？　Your　tie's　too　short。　Let　me　see　your　socks。〃
　　I　bent　over　and　peeked　under　the　cuffs　of　his　uniform　pants。
　　〃They　don't　match。　óne　black；　one　navy；〃　I　said。
　　〃Don't　let　me　get　you　into　trouble；　Doc：'
　　〃I'm　already　in　trouble；　Marino；〃　I　said。
　　　
　　　11
　　One　of　the　more　heartless　aspects　of　my　work　was　that　unknown　remains　became　〃I'he　Torso〃　or　〃The　Trunk　Lady〃　or　〃The　Superman　Man：'　They　were　appellations　that　robbed　the　person　of　his　identity　and　all　he'd　been　or　done　on　earth　as　surely　as　his　death　had。
　　I　considered　it　a　painful　personal　defeat　when　I　could　not　bring　about　the　identification　of　someone　who　came　under　my　care。　I　packed　bones　in　bankers'　boxes　and　stored　them　in　the　skeleton　closet；　in　hopes　they　might　tell　me　who　they　were　someday。　I　kept　intact　bodies　or　their　parts　in　freezers　for　months　and　years；　and　would　not　give　them　up　to　a　pauper's　grave　until　there　was　no　more　hope　or　space。　We　didn't　have　room　enough　to　keep　anyone　forever。
　　This　morning's　case　had　been　christened　〃The　Container　Man。〃　He　was　in　very　grim　shape；　and　I　hoped　I　would　not　have　to　hold　him　long。　When　deposition　was　this　advanced；　even　refrigeration　couldn't　stop　it。
　　〃Sometimes　I　don't　know　how　you　stand　it；〃　Marino　grumbled。
　　We　were　in　the　changing　room　next　to　the　morgue；　and　no　locked　door　or　concrete　wall　could　pletely　block　the　smell。
　　〃You　don't　have　to　be　here；〃　I　reminded　him。
　　〃I　wouldn't　miss　it　for　the　world。〃
　　We　suited　up　in　double　gowns；　gloves；　sleeve。　protectors；　shoe　covers；　surgical　caps　and　masks　with　shields。　We　didn't　hhve　air　packs　because　I　didn't　believe　in　them；　and　I'd　better　never　catch　one　of　my　doctors　sneaking　Vicks　up　his　nose；　although　cops　did　it　all　the　time。　If　a　medical　examiner　can't　handle　the　unpleasantriés　of　the　job；　he　should　do　something　else。
　　More　to　the　point；　odors　are　important。　They　have　their　own　story　to　tell。　A　sweet　smell　might　point　at　ethchlorvynol；　while　chloral　hydrate　smells　like　pears。　Both　might　make　me　wonder　about　an　overdose　of　hypnotics；　while　a　hint　of　garlic　might　point　at　arsenic。　Phenols　and　nitrobenzene　bring　to　mind　ether　and　shoe　polish　respectively；　and　ethylene　glycol　smells　exactly　like　antifreeze　because　that's　exactly　what　it　is。　Isolating　potentially　significant　smells　from　the　awful　stench　of　dirty　bodies　and　rotting　flesh　is　rather　much　like　archaeology。　You　focus　on　what　you　are　there　to　find　and　not　on　the　miserable　conditions　around　it。
　　The　deposed　room；　as　we　called　it；　was　a　miniature　version　of　the　autopsy　suite。　It　had　its　own　cooler　and　ventilation　system　and　a　single　table　I　could　roll　up　and　attach　to　a　big　sink。　Everything；　including　cabinets　and　doors；　was　stainless　steel。　Walls　and　the　floors　were　coated　with　a　non…absorbent　acrylic　that　could　withstand　the　most　brutal　washes　with　disinfectants　and　bleach。　Automatic　doors　were　opened　by　steel　buttons　that　were　big　enough　to　push　with　elbows　instead　of　hands。
　　When　the　doors　slid　shut　behind　Marino　and　me；　I　was　startled　to　find　Anderson　leaning　against　a　countertop；　the　gurney　bearing　the　pouched　body　parked　in　the　middle　of　the　floor。　The　body　is　evidence。　I　never　left　an　investigator　alone　with　an　unexamined　body；　certainly　not　since　the　badly　botched　O。　J。　Simpson　trial；　when　it　became　the　vogue　for　everyone　except　the　defendant　to　be　impeached　in　court。
　　〃What　are　you　doing　here　and　where's　Chuck？〃　I　asked　Anderson。
　　Chuck　Ruffin　was　my　morgue　supervisor　and　should　have　been　here　some　time　ago　inspecting　surgical　instruments；　labeling　test　tubes　and　making　sure　I　had　all　of　the　necessary　paperwork。
　　〃He　let　me　in　and　went　off　somewhere。〃
　　〃He　let　you　in　here　and　just　left　you？　How　long　ago　was　that？〃
　　〃Maybe　twenty　minutes　ago；〃　Anderson　replied。
　　Her　eyes　were　warily　on　Marino。
　　〃Do　I　detect　a　little　Vicks　up　the　nose？〃　Marino　sweetly　inquired。
　　The　petroleum　jelly　shone　on　Anderson's　upper　lip。
　　〃See　that　industrial…size　deodorizer　up　there？〃　Marino　nodded　his　head　to　the　special　ventilation　system…　in　the　ceiling。　〃Guess　what；　Anderson？　ít　ain't　gonna　do　a　goddamn　bit　of　good　when　this　bag's　unzipped。〃
　　〃I'm　not　planning　on　staying；〃　she　replied。
　　That　was　obvious。　She　hadn't　even　put　on　a　pair　of　surgical　gloves。
　　〃You　shouldn't　be　in　here　at　all　without　protective　wear；〃　I　said　to　her。
　　〃I　just　wanted　to　let　you　know　I'll　be　out　talking　to　witnesses　and　want　you　to　page　me　when　you　have　information　on　what　happened　to　him；〃　she　said。
　　〃What　witnesses？　Bray　sending　you　over　to　Belgium？〃　Marino　asked；　his　breath　fogging　up　his　shield。
　　I　didn't　believe　for　a　minute　that　she　had　e　into　this　unpleasant　place　to　tell　me　anything。　Anderson　had　shown　up　with　some　agenda　other　than　this　case。　I　looked　at　the　dark　red　body　pouch　to　see　if　it　might　have　been　disturbed　in　any　way；　as　cool　fingers　of　paranoia　touched　my　brain。　I　glanced　up　at　the　clock　on　the　wall。　It　was　almost　nine。
　　〃Call　me；〃　Anderson　said　to　me　as　if　it　were　an　order。
　　The　doors　sucked　shut　in　her　wake。　I　picked　up　the　inter　phone　and　buzzed　Rose。
　　〃Where　the　hell's　Chuck？〃　I　asked。
　　〃God　only　knows；〃　Rose　said；　making　no　attempt　to　hide　the　disdain　she　felt　for　the　young　man。
　　〃Please　find　him　and　tell　him　to　get　here　now；〃　I　said。　〃He's　making　me　crazy。　And　make　a　note　of　this　phone　call；　as　usual。　Document　everything。〃
　　〃I　always　do：〃
　　〃I'm　going　to　fire　him　one　of　these　days；〃　I　said　to　Marino　when　I　hung　up。　〃As　soon　as　I　get　enough　on　him。　He's　lazy　and　pletely　irresponsible；　and　he　didn't　used　to　be。〃
　　〃He's　more　lazy　and　irresponsible　than　he　used　to　be；〃　Marino　replied。　〃That　guy　ain't　connecting　the　dots　right；　Doc。　He's　up　to　something；　and　just　so　you　know；　he's　been　trying　to　get　on　with　the　police　department。〃
　　〃Good；〃　I　said。　〃You　guys　can　have　him：〃
　　〃One　of　these　wannabes　who　jacks　off　over　uniforms；　guns　and　flashing　lights；〃　he　said　as　I　began　to　unzip　the　pouch。
　　Marino's　voice　was　losing　its　bluster。　He　was　doing　his　best　to　be　stoical。
　　〃You　all　right？〃　I　asked。
　　〃Oh；　yeah。　11
　　The　stench　slammed　into　us　like　a　storm　front。
　　〃Shit！〃　he　plained　as　I　opened　the　sheets　shrouding　the　body。　〃Goddamn…fucking…son…of…a…bitch！〃
　　There　were　times　when　a　body　was　in　such　horrific　shape　it　became　a　surreal　miasma　of　unnatural　colors　and　textures　and　odors　that　could　distort　and　disorient　and　drop　someone　to　the　floor。　Marino　fled　to　the　counter；　getting　as　far　away　from　the　gurney　as　he　could；　and　it　was　all　I　could　do　not　to　laugh。
　　He　looked　perfectly　ridiculous　in　surgical　garb。　When　he　wore　shoe　covers　he　tended　to　skate　across　the　floor；　and　because　the　cap　couldn't　get　much　of　a　purchase　on　his　balding　head；　it　tended　to　pucker　up　like　a　cupcake　paper。　I　gave　him　another　fifteen　minutes　before　he　snatched　it　off　as　he　always　did。
　　〃He　can't　help　the　condition　he's　in；〃　I　reminded　Marino。
　　He　was　busy　stuffing　a　Vicks　inhaler　up　each　nostril。
　　〃Now　that's　a　little　hypocritical；〃　I　m