Laurie continued her external exam. When she looked at the wrists, she pointed to them. “See these abrasions and indentations?”

“Yeah,” Lou said. “What’s that mean?”

“I’d say this poor guy had been tied up. Maybe the eye lesion was some kind of torture.”

“These are nasty people,” Lou said. “What irks me is that they hide behind this supposed code of ethics when in reality it’s just a dog-eat-dog world. And what really irks me is that their screwing around tends to give all Italian-Americans a bad name.”

As Laurie examined Frank’s hands and legs, she asked Lou why the Vaccarro and Lucia crime families were feuding.

“For territory,” Lou said. “They all have to sleep in the same bed, Queens and parts of Nassau County. They are forever at each other’s throats for territory. They are in direct competition for their drugs, loan-sharking, gambling clubs, fencing, extortion rings, hot car rings, hijacking… You name it and they’re into it. They’re forever fighting and killing each other, but it’s a Mexican standoff so in a way they also have to get along. It’s a weird world.”

“All this illegal activity goes on even today?” Laurie questioned.

“Absolutely,” Lou said. “And what we know about is just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Why don’t the police do something?”

Lou sighed. “We’re trying, but it ain’t easy. We need evidence. As I explained before, that’s hard to get. The bosses are insulated and the killers are pros. Even when we’ve got the goods on them they still have to go through the courts, and nothing is guaranteed. We Americans have always been so worried about tyranny from the authorities, that we legally give the bad guys the edge.”

“It’s difficult to believe so little can be done,” Laurie said.

“Something can only be done if we get hard evidence. Take Frank DePasquale here. I’m ninety-nine percent sure Cerino and his crew are responsible for whacking him. But I can’t do anything without some proof, some break.”

“I thought the police had informers,” Laurie said.

“We have informers,” Lou agreed. “But nobody who really knows anything. The people that could really point a finger are more scared of each other than they are of us.”

“Well, maybe I’ll come up with something with this post,” Laurie said, redirecting her gaze to Frank DePasquale’s corpse. “The trouble is that bodies in water tend to be washed of evidence. Of course, there is the bullet. At the very least I can give you the bullet.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get,” Lou said.

Laurie and Vinnie tackled the autopsy. At each step she explained to Lou what they were doing. The only difference between Frank’s autopsy and Duncan ’s was the way Laurie did the brain. With Frank she was meticulously careful to follow the bullet’s path. She noted that it never came near to the swollen eye. She was also careful not to touch the bullet with a metal instrument. Once she’d retrieved it, she put it into a plastic container to avoid scratching it. Later, after it was dry, she marked it on its base, then photographed it before sealing it in a small envelope. The envelope was then attached to a property receipt, ready to be turned over to the police, meaning Sergeant Murphy or his partner upstairs.

“It’s been quite a morning,” Lou said as they exited the autopsy room. “It’s been very instructive, but I think I’ll pass on your third case.”

“I was surprised you tolerated two,” Laurie said.

They paused outside the locker room. “I’ll go through the microscopic material on Frank DePasquale, and I’ll let you know if anything interesting turns up. The only thing that I think might be interesting is the eye. But who knows?”

“Well, it’s been fun…” Lou said. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Laurie looked into the lieutenant’s dark eyes. She had a feeling he wanted to ask her something else, but couldn’t seem to get it out. “I’m heading upstairs for another shot of coffee,” she said. “Would you care for another before you run off?”

“Sounds good,” Lou said without hesitation.

Up in the lunchroom they found themselves at the same table they’d occupied earlier. Laurie couldn’t understand why the confident Lou had become so fidgety and awkward. She watched while he took out his cigarettes and matches and fumbled to light up.

“You’ve been smoking for a long time?” Laurie asked, just to make conversation.

“Since I was twelve,” Lou said. “In my neighborhood it was the thing to do.” He shook out his match and took a long drag.

“Have you ever considered stopping?” Laurie asked.

“Absolutely,” Lou said. He blew smoke over his shoulder. “It’s easy to stop. I’ve been doing it weekly for a year. Seriously though, I do want to quit. But it’s hard at headquarters. Most everybody smokes.”

“I’m sorry that we didn’t come up with a breakthrough with DePasquale,” Laurie said.

“Maybe the bullet will help somehow,” Lou said. He dropped his cigarette into the ashtray while trying to balance it on the edge. “The ballistics people are pretty resourceful. Ouch!” Lou pulled his hand away from the ashtray. He’d burned his finger on his cigarette.

“Lou, are you all right?” Laurie asked.

“I’m fine,” Lou said too quickly. He tried again and this time succeeded in retrieving his cigarette.

“You seem upset about something,” Laurie said.

“Just have a lot on my mind,” Lou said. “But there is something I’d like to ask. Are you married?”

In spite of herself, Laurie smiled and shook her head. “Now there’s a question out of the blue.”

“I agree,” Lou said.

“Also, under the circumstances, it’s not very professional,” Laurie said.

“I can’t argue with that either,” Lou admitted.

Laurie paused as she had a mini-argument with herself. “No,” she said finally. “I’m not married.”

“Well, in that case…” Lou said, struggling for words, “… maybe we could have lunch someday.”

“I’m flattered, Lieutenant Soldano,” Laurie said uneasily. “But I usually don’t mix my private life with work.”

“Nor do I,” Lou said.

“What if I say maybe, and I’ll think about it?”

“Fine,” Lou said. Laurie could tell he regretted having put the question to her. He stood up abruptly. Laurie got up, too, but Lou motioned for her to stay where she was. “Finish your coffee. I can testify that you need a break, believe me. I’ll just run downstairs, change, and be on my way. Let me hear from you.” With a wave, Lou left. At the door, he turned and waved again.

Laurie waved back as Lou’s figure disappeared from view. He really was a bit like Colombo: intelligent yet lumbering and mildly disorganized. At the same time, he had a basic blue-collar charm and a refreshing, down-to-earth lack of pretense that appealed to her. He also seemed lonely.

Finishing her coffee, Laurie got up and stretched. As she walked out of the lunchroom, she realized that Lou also reminded her a bit of her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Sean Mackenzie. No doubt her mother would find Lou equally as inappropriate. Laurie wondered if part of the reason she found herself attracted to such a type was because she knew her parents would disapprove. If that was true, she wondered when she’d get this rebelliousness out of her system for good.

Pressing the down button on the elevator, it dawned on Laurie that after Lou had surprised her with his question, she’d failed to ask him if he were married. She decided that if he called, she’d ask. She checked her watch. She was doing fine: only one more autopsy to go and it was still before noon.

Laurie checked the address she’d jotted on a piece of paper, then looked up at the impressive Fifth Avenue apartment building. It was in the mid-Seventies, bordering on Central Park. The entrance had a blue canvas, scalloped awning that extended to the curb. A liveried doorman stood expectantly just behind the glazed, wrought-iron door.