The Dead Man's Wife by Solomon Jones

Author:Solomon Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

CHAPTER 9

Sandy Jackson drove a squad car down the ramp that led to the back entrance to the medical examiner’s office. Hidden behind a green gate on University Avenue, the city morgue was located just a stone’s throw from the Veteran’s Administration hospital. There were those who saw cruel irony in the juxtaposition of the two institutions. Others just saw the sadness.

As Sandy got out of the car and placed her uniform hat atop her head, she counted herself among the latter. It always saddened her to come to this place, because coming here was always about death.

Sandy hoped this time would be different, because she hoped that the woman she’d meet here would give her what she needed in order to save someone else, even though it was too late for the woman’s loved one.

She climbed up onto the bloodstained platform and rang the bell, and an autopsy technician opened the black steel door. For a moment, he just stared, as the light from inside the morgue shone on his bald black head. In his twenty years at the morgue, he’d seen everything there was to see, including every dead body that had come in during Coletti’s investigations. Seeing Sandy Jackson was a welcome change. It wasn’t often that a pretty woman came to death’s door.

“I’m Lieutenant Jackson,” she said, her tone all business. “I’m here to meet Mrs. Dunbar. I believe she’s supposed to identify a body.”

“I’m Simon,” the technician said, stepping aside to let her in. “I didn’t mean to stare. I guess I’m just used to ugly old guys like Coletti coming down here.”

“That’s all right,” Sandy said as she walked inside. “Is Mrs. Dunbar here yet?”

“She’s right here in the office,” the technician said as he walked around the corner. “I’ll give you two a few minutes.”

Sandy looked down into the face of a woman who seemed overwhelmed. She was forty-five, perhaps a little older, and she wore the distinctive look of a woman who’d spent her life caring for others. Now she needed someone to care for her, and there wasn’t anyone to do so.

Sitting there alone in the small office, she looked almost like a child. She rocked back and forth against the pain with red eyes and tearstained cheeks, matted hair, and a glazed-over facial expression. She was sleepwalking through the horror of the moment, and Sandy didn’t blame her at all.

“Mrs. Dunbar, I’m Lieutenant Jackson,” Sandy said in a soothing tone as she knelt down beside her chair. “I’m going to be here with you while you make the identification. Is that all right?”

Mrs. Dunbar looked at Sandy and managed to nod her head. Sandy stood up and walked out of the office to get Simon.

“Could you get Mr. Dunbar’s belongings, please?”

“Okay,” Simon said, and he went into another small office down the hall and took out the book where they documented personal effects. He scrolled down to a number in the second column and wrote it on a slip of paper.

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