“Are you okay, Ms. Cooper?” one of the detectives asked me as we got back into the squad car for the trip downtown to my office. “You look shaky.”
“I’m okay,” I said, settling into the rear seat and looking over my shoulder to see if Palmer and Breed were coming out the same door of the hotel. “I’m hoping Mr. Palmer was more rattled than I am, or I wasn’t all that effective.”
“Ready to go?” he asked, pulling away from the curb before I could answer.
“Sure. But let’s make a quick stop on the way.”
“Commissioner Scully said we’re to return you to One Hogan.”
“I’ll call and clear it with him, but let’s stop at the DNA lab. I want to leave a piece of evidence there.”
I didn’t have to dial Scully. My phone rang before I could get it out of my pocket.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“He denied everything—not that I expected him to roll over,” I said. “He’ll probably pony up with a lawyer this weekend, and then we’ll have a real dogfight.”
“The tech guys will take the wire off you and make us each a copy,” Scully said. “I’ll let you know what I think.”
“I’ve asked the detectives to make a stop at the Forensic Biology lab on our way back,” I said, referring to the state-of-the-art center for DNA analysis—a branch of the ME’s office—on East Twenty-Sixth Street.
“That piece of rag?” the commissioner asked. “That handkerchief is useless.”
“I just want to run in there, in case Zach has his body man or anyone else following me, to call my bluff.”
“In and out,” Scully said. “No nonsense.”
I held my tongue. “Of course not.”
We pulled up in front of the building and I sprinted out of the car, showed my ID, and went to the sixth floor to my friend Noelle, one of the top forensic biologists in the country.
Noelle’s desk was surrounded by staffers looking for answers from her.
I held up my hand and waved. “Got five minutes for me?”
She laughed. “Take a number, will you?”
“Happy to wait my turn.”
Noelle stepped away from her desk and walked to the window with me. “What have you got? Something that has to go to the front of the line, I’m sure.”
“Consistency is a great thing,” I said, smiling at her and letting her peek inside the manila envelope. “So this handkerchief is more than ten years old, and its owner has carried it around for most of that time, just in her pocket as a memento. Would you expect to find anything of value on it?”
“Yes,” Noelle said. “A great many contaminants.”
“But you’d test it for me, wouldn’t you?” I asked.
“A handkerchief. Hmmmm. Looking for what substance?”
“This faint stain next to the embroidery might be human blood.”
“No guarantees, but I can have this worked up.”
I didn’t want to suggest to Noelle that it might be a mixed sample. She was the pro, and submitting it without prejudice was the better way to go.
“For Monday?” I asked. I wanted to know if there was any chance of the stain providing evidence against Zach.
“I’ll call you a week from today,” Noelle said, walking back to her desk with the manila folder. “Fill out the paperwork.”
“C’mon, pal. Rush it for me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”
“I’ll buy dinner,” I said. “Anywhere you’d like. Just aim for something earlier than next Friday.”
I scribbled out the necessary information on the forms and went back downstairs to the car.
The detective got on the FDR Drive and I was back at my desk at three thirty.
The tech guys came down and removed the wire, promising to make copies immediately.
My first call was to Mike, telling him what had gone on with Zach, and arranging to meet him later.
I reached Mercer, who was still at the hospital, hanging out with Lucy.
“She was going a little stir-crazy, and as a matter of fact, so was I,” he said. “The nurses found me a lab coat big enough to cover me, and they gave Lucy a baseball cap. I covered her with a blanket and stuck her in a wheelchair, and we spent part of the day exploring the Rock U campus. Incognito, I think.”
“You’ll have to show me around.”
“It’s a fascinating place,” Mercer said. “A whole bunch of new buildings to mix with the original ones. I’d say there are more geniuses per square foot in these five city blocks than anywhere in the world.”
“That was kind of my father’s point, too.”
“We had lunch in the faculty dining room, no questions asked.”
“Great. I’m glad you got her out,” I said. “I’m going to spend the night again. Mike will keep me company. We should be able to get there by seven.”
“I’m fine with that.”
“Cops and agents still on the corridor?” I asked.
“Yes. Francie’s body is still in the room—being guarded by cops and feds,” Mercer said. “Scully hasn’t let anyone in on his plan, but he must be cooking one up.”
“Damn. I was just talking to him,” I said. “I could have asked. Why do you say that?”
“In case you haven’t heard,” Mercer said, “the docs apparently took tissue from the embryo a few days ago, not knowing how long Francie would make it on life support.”
“Francie’s fetus?” I said, clutching my hand to my chest.
“Yes.”
“So they’ve probably done the DNA,” I said, my heart beating a little faster. “They’ll be able to tell who the father is.”
“When they have someone to compare the profile to,” Mercer said. “Actually, I’m told Scully invited Quint Akers in to be tested.”
“That’s insane,” I said. “Francie and Quint were never an item.”
“The commissioner wants Quint to be the guinea pig, since he was her boss. To open the doors to other guys she worked with to be tested.”
“He has no business making Francie’s private life a hotbed of rumors at Legal Aid,” I said. “I’ll call him right back and tell him his methodology sucks.”
“No, you won’t,” Mercer said, his biting tone coming right through my iPhone. “I have this story line deep-throated from Vickee. You have no business knowing any of it, so just forget about it.”
“For Vickee’s sake,” I said, “I’ll do my best.”
“Why, you have a better idea?” Mercer asked.
“Every now and then I do,” I said. “If it were my plan, I’d ignore the idea of an office romance with Quint. I’d dive right into the belly of the beast.”