The commissioner? Yol had done some work to keep this body in custody. Made sense. If he’d had the corpse released, then given it some kind of crazy security, that would have advertised to the world that there was something special about it. A quick call to ensure Panos stayed in the city morgue, locked up tight, was far less suspicious.
It just hadn’t worked.
“We’re going to have to give something up, Steve,” Ivy told me. “She’s digging her heels in. Time for the big guns.”
I sighed. “You sure?” I asked under my breath.
“Yes, unfortunately.”
“One interview,” I said, meeting Liza’s eyes. “One hour.”
She leaned forward in her chair. “Buying me off?”
“Yes, and?”
She tapped the top of her table with an idle finger. “I’m a medical examiner. I’m not interested in publishing.”
“I didn’t say the interview had to be with you,” I said. “Anyone you like—anyone in the medical community you need something from. You get me as barter.”
Liza smiled. “Anyone?”
“Yes. One hour.”
“No. As long as they want.”
“That’s too open-ended, Liza.”
“So is the list of ways you’re annoying. Take it or leave it, Leeds. I don’t owe you anything.”
“We’re going to regret this, aren’t we?” Tobias asked.
I nodded, thinking of the hours spent being prodded by some psychologist who was looking to make a name for themselves. Another paper in another journal, treating me like a strange species of sea cucumber to be dissected and displayed.
Time was ticking though, and it was either this or tell Liza why the body was so important.
“Deal,” I said.
She didn’t smile. Smiling was far too human an expression for Liza. She did seem satisfied, though, as she grabbed her keys off the table and led me down the hallway, my aspects trailing.
The air grew appreciably colder as we approached the morgue. A key card unlocked the door, which was of heavy, thick metal. Inside the room, one could see why Liza had chosen to work here—not only was it frigid, all this chrome probably reminded her of the spaceship that had dropped her off on our planet.
The door swung closed behind us, thumping into place. Liza settled in beside the wall, arms folded, watching to prevent any shenanigans. “Fifteen minutes, Leeds. Get to it.”
I surveyed the room, which had three metal tables on wheels, a counter with various medical paraphernalia, and a wall full of large corpse drawers.
“All right,” I said to the four aspects, “I want to know how they got the body out.”
“We need proof too,” J.C. said, poking through the room. “Something to tie Exeltec to the crime.”
“That would be wonderful,” I said to him, “but honestly, we don’t want to be too leading. Maybe they don’t have it. Focus on what we know. Find me clues on how the thieves stored or moved the body, and that might lead us right to it.”
The others nodded. I turned around slowly, taking the whole room in, absorbing it into my subconscious. Then I closed my eyes.
My delusions started talking.
“No windows,” J.C. said. “Only one exit.”
“Unless those ceiling tiles are removable,” Ivy noted.
“Nah,” J.C. replied. “I’ve seen the security specs for this building. Remember the Coppervein case? No crawl space. No air ducts. Nothing funny about the architecture.”
“This equipment has been used lately,” Tobias said. “I know little of its purpose, though. Stephen, you really should recruit a coroner of our own eventually.”
“We do have Ngozi,” Audrey said. “Forensic investigation. Why didn’t we bring her?”
Because of you, Audrey, I thought. My subconscious gave you an important skill and inserted you into my team. Why? I missed the days when I’d had someone to ask about things like this. When Sandra had been with me, everything had made sense for the first time in my life.
“This place is secure,” Ivy said, sounding dissatisfied. “Inside job, perhaps? One of the morgue workers?”
“Could one of the workers here have been bribed?” I asked, opening my eyes and looking toward Liza.
“I thought of that,” she said, arms still folded. “But I was the last one in the office that night. I came in, checked everything and turned off the lights. Security says nobody came in overnight.”
“I’ll want to talk to security, then,” I said. “Who else was here that day?”
Liza shrugged. “Family. A priest. Always accompanied. This room doesn’t open for anyone other than me and two of our technicians. Even the security guard can’t get in without calling one of us. But that’s all irrelevant—the body was still here when I left for the night.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, I had to write down some numbers for paperwork. I checked on it specifically.”
“We’ll want to fingerprint the place,” J.C. said. “Like it or not, we might have to go through the precinct.”
I nodded. “I assume the police have already done forensics.”
“Why would you assume that?” Liza asked.
We all looked at her. “Uh . . . you know. Because there was a crime?”
“A corpse was stolen,” Liza said dryly. “Nobody was hurt, we have no actual signs of a break-in, and there is no money involved. The official word is that they are ‘working on’ the case, but let me tell you—finding this body is low on their list of priorities. They’re more worried about the break-in itself; they’ll want someone’s hide for that . . .”
She refolded her arms, then repositioned and folded them again. She was trying to play it cool, but she was obviously worried. Ivy nodded at me, obviously pleased that I could read Liza so well. Well, it wasn’t hard. I picked up things from my aspects now and then.
“Security cameras?” J.C. asked as he inspected the corners of the room. I repeated the question so Liza could hear it.
“Just out in the hallways,” she said.
“Isn’t that a little sparse?” I asked.
“The whole place is wired with alarms. If someone tries to break in, the security guard’s desk will light up like Christmas.” She grimaced. “We used to turn it on only at night, but they’ve had it on for two days straight now. Have to get permission to open a damn window these days . . .”