Free Crisis by Robin Cook

pathology save for a rather large, apparently asymptomatic uterine fibroid. Specifically, there had been nothing as yet to account for the death of an apparently healthy woman who had collapsed in Bloomingdale's. Miguel Sanchez, the evening mortuary technician who'd come in at 3:00 p.m. to start his day, was assisting. While Jack prepared to examine the heart and lungs, Miguel was busy at the sink, washing out the intestines.
    By merely palpating the surface of the lungs, Jack's experienced hands perceived an abnormal resistance. The tissue was firmer than usual, which was consistent with the organ's weight being higher than normal. With a knife that looked like a garden-variety butcher knife, Jack made multiple slices into the lung. Again, there was the suggestion of more resistance than he would expect. Lifting the lung, he examined the cut surfaces, which reflected the organ's consistency. The lung appeared denser than normal, and he was confident that the microscopic would show fibrosis. The question was ... why were the lungs fibrotic?
    Turning his attention to the heart, Jack picked up toothed forceps and a pair of small, blunt-nosed scissors. Just when he was about to begin work on the muscular organ, the door to the hallway opened. Jack hesitated as a figure appeared and approached. It took only a moment for him to recognize Laurie despite the light reflecting off her plastic face mask.
    "I was wondering where you were," Laurie said with a hint of exasperation. She was dressed in full-body disposable Tyvek protective gear, as were Jack and Miguel. It was a standing order by Dr. Calvin Washington, the deputy chief medical examiner, to wear such an outfit for protection against potential infectious agents when in the autopsy room. One never knew what kind of microbes might be encountered, especially in an autopsy room as busy as the one in New York City.
    "Wondering where I was suggests you were looking for me."
    "Brilliant deduction," Laurie said. She glanced down at the ghostly pale human shell on the table. "This was the last place I thought to look for you. Why such a late post?"
    "You know me," Jack quipped. "I have no restraint whatsoever when an opportunity to have fun knocks on my door."
    "Anything interesting?" Laurie said, immune to Jack's sarcastic humor. She reached out and touched the surface of the cut lung with her gloved index finger.
    "Not yet, but I think I'm about to hit pay dirt. You can see that the lung appears fibrotic. I believe the heart's going to tell us why."
    "What's the background of the case?"
    "The victim was given the price of a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes in Bloomie's and arrested."
    "Very funny."
    "Seriously, she did arrest in Bloomingdale's. Of course, I don't know what she was doing. Apparently, the store staff and a Good Samaritan doctor who happened to be on the scene attended to her immediately. They started CPR, and it was continued in the ambulance all the way over to the Manhattan General. When the body arrived over here at the OCME, the head doc in the ER called to give me the story. He said that no matter what they did in the ER, they couldn't get so much as a single beat out of the heart, even with a pacemaker. As chagrined as they were that the patient was so uncooperative as to not revive, he was hoping we could shed some light in case there was something else that could have been done. I was impressed with his interest and initiative, and since that is the kind of professional behavior we should be encouraging, I told him I'd do the case straight off and get right back to him."
    "Very commendable and industrious on your part," Laurie said. "Of course, doing an autopsy at this hour, you're making the rest of us look like slackers."
    "If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it's a duck!"
    "Okay, wise guy! I'm not going to try to compete with your repartee. Let's see what you got! You've got my interest, so go for it."
    Jack bent over, quickly but carefully traced the major