McGowan was in front of the men’s room when Codella ran into him. “May I speak with you, sir?”
“What is it?” He turned to face her.
She told him what she had found at Park Manor and the results of the presumptive tests Muñoz had done. “Now we’ve established a chain of oxycodone from Lucy Merchant’s prescription bottle to her medicine cup to the carpet in her bedroom. All I have to do now is prove that the trail leads into Lucy Merchant’s body.”
“That’s shit, Codella. You and those fucking presumptive tests. Are you kidding me?”
“They’re accurate more often than not,” she told him, channeling Muñoz’s words.
“But what does it prove? Old people take pain meds all the time.”
“Lucy Merchant wasn’t old. She was only fifty-six. And she wasn’t on oxycodone or any other narcotic.”
“So what are you proposing?”
“An autopsy.”
“Jesus Christ.” He poked his index finger into his ear. “You know, I skimmed her obit after you left my office, Codella. You need to read between the lines. The woman was a vegetable. She was locked in a dementia ward. Do you really want to waste your time on this?”
“You mean look the other way on a possible homicide?”
McGowan stuffed his hands deep in his pockets and leaned into her with his shoulders. “Do you know how many demented people get slipped a little something to end their misery? It’s better for everyone, Codella. You’d be wasting taxpayer dollars on this. Let it go.”
“Let it go?”
“You heard me.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t—for your sake,” she said. “Can’t you just see the Post headline? NYPD Says ‘Let It Go’ After Broadway Legend Dies.”
McGowan’s face turned cold. He brought his hand up like a gun and aimed it at her. “You wonder why I don’t throw you cases? You’re a loose cannon, Codella. You see whatever the hell you want to see.”
Codella shook her head. “You can’t manufacture evidence, Lieutenant. I’ve got evidence. And I’ve got a couple of people over at that place that I’d like to ask some hard questions.” She thought of Baiba Lielkaja. “All I need is your green light. You’re going to regret it if you shut me down right now.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking to me like that.”
She watched the muscles in his jaw clench below the surface of his skin. She’d really pissed him off. She lowered her voice. “Just let me go see Merchant. It’s his wife we’re talking about. Let me ask him to authorize a postmortem.”
McGowan shook his head and laughed. “Okay. Fine. Be my guest, Codella. Actually, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see you commit career suicide.”
“Shouldn’t he want to know the truth? If he doesn’t, he looks pretty bad, don’t you think?”
McGowan jingled the keys in his pocket. “Don’t ask me. Do whatever you want. You always do. And I’m going to sit back and watch you fuck yourself. Because all Merchant has to do is pick up the phone and call One Police Plaza and you’re out the door. And the pain in my ass is gone.”
“I’ll take my chances.” She smiled. “But if I get my autopsy and the ME confirms that the death isn’t natural, I’m going to need an investigative team on this.”
“If.” McGowan turned away, pushed on the men’s room door, and disappeared.