“So you think the hospital staff was in on it?” Lara asked doubtfully.
“Hospitals aren’t perfect. The body could have been whisked away. Or maybe it was managed properly there and they were fooled by the effects of the poison, and something went on at the funeral home. Maybe someone paid them off not to embalm the body.” She turned to look at Lara, speculation in her eyes. “Meanwhile, we need to learn everything we can about Miguel Gomez.”
“I’m sure the Bureau has a massive file on him,” Lara said.
“No, we need to know what you can find out.”
“What I can find out?”
“It’s evident that he’s trying to reach you.”
“I don’t know if—”
“You have to embrace your ability to see ghosts, Lara,” Meg told her. “That’s all there is to it.”
8
Dr. Robert Treme was a cardiologist with an array of diplomas and certificates on his office wall to prove that he’d gone the distance. He was about sixty and appeared to have embraced his vocation, since his build suggested that he did just the right amount of exercise for his age and ate well, watching out for his own heart. He wasn’t defensive when he met with Brett and Diego, he was puzzled.
He had a file before him, which he readily handed across the desk to them. “I gave copies of all this information to the police, as well. I have a list of the nurses and personnel who were on the floor at the time of his death, including the orderlies who took the body to the hospital morgue and the morgue attendant. The nurse on duty called a code blue, naturally. Nicholson was seventy-eight, and when he flatlined, I happened to be at the hospital, just finishing rounds. We performed all the proper resuscitation techniques to no avail.”
“He died from congestive heart failure?” Brett asked. When Treme nodded, he went on. “And he was dead? You’re sure of it?”
Treme nodded gravely. “I have been practicing medicine for forty years. The man was dead. No pulse, no heartbeat. I don’t know who that was on the platform, but it wasn’t Randy Nicholson. If you doubt my words, you and the police are welcome to question everyone in the hospital at the time—including his family. I left them alone with him to say their goodbyes before he went down to the hospital morgue.”
“The man isn’t in his grave,” Brett informed him.
“Then, you need to be looking into body snatchers,” Treme said with certainty.
“Was he tested for brain waves?” Brett asked.
Treme leaned forward, irritated for the first time. “He’d had a bad heart for several years. He didn’t help it any by living on red meat coated in salt. He was in the hospital for congestive heart failure, and his heart gave out. He didn’t have Alzheimer’s disease and he wasn’t being tested for mental acuity or a brain injury, so no, he wasn’t tested for brain waves. Believe me, he wasn’t breathing. He didn’t have a pulse. He was in his room for over an hour after death so his family could say goodbye, and then he was in the hospital morgue before going to the funeral home. The man was dead.”
“Is there any possibility—any at all—that he was in a state that simply resembled death?” Brett asked.
For a moment Treme betrayed a hint of uncertainty. “If he wasn’t dead, it was an impeccable imitation of it.” He rose, apparently finished with the interview. “Gentlemen, if Mr. Nicholson’s body was not in his grave, I suggest you look to the funeral home. From the time I signed his death certificate, the hospital and the funeral home became responsible for the body. He had a viewing, so his body definitely made it as far as the mortuary. I really don’t see how I can help you further.”
It was a dismissal, and Brett nodded at Diego to indicate that it was time to go. That was it—all they could get at the moment. And it did sound as if they would have to move on and find out just what had happened after the death certificate had been signed.
*
While Meg had kept her nose in the books most of the way back, she was interested in learning more about the facility when they returned.
“I noticed last night that the place is locked and there’s an alarm. And a fence runs all around the property, right to the water. What’s next door on the left?” she asked.
“The land is owned by a museum, but they haven’t built there yet. They’re fenced, too. And actually, they have full-time security.”
“What about on the other side?” Meg asked.
“County property. Apparently an old guy used to sell bait and rent fishing boats from there. But when he died, the property reverted to Dade County.” Lara made a face. “It will probably be sold and turned into condos.”
“The way of the world,” Meg said. “So conceivably, anyone could come through from that side.”
“If they were willing to get wet, yes.”