“And you think these clowns are going to call the D.C. Bar Council and dig for information?”
Zola opened her bulky purse and pulled out a black hijab. As they watched, she draped it over her head and shoulders, tugging here and there until it was in place. “I’m supposed to wear this when in the presence of men who are not in my family,” she said properly.
“What a good little Muslim,” Todd said. “And you chose a long dress instead of those tight jeans we’ve been admiring for years.”
“What jeans? It’s the least I can do for my parents since I may not see them for a long time.”
“I think you’re cute,” Mark said.
“I am cute, just don’t say anything, okay? My father is suspicious enough.”
“You look rather virginal,” Todd said.
“Knock it off,” she said.
The door opened. Her parents and brother Bo spilled into the room. Her mother, Fanta, grabbed her and they embraced, both in tears. She hugged her father, Abdou, and Bo, and finally looked at Todd and Mark. She introduced them, described them as friends from law school, and explained they had driven her up from D.C. Mark and Todd shook hands with Bo and Abdou, but not her mother. Her father thanked them again and again, and when the moment became awkward, Mark said, “We’ll be in the hallway.”
When he and Todd left the room, the entire family was crying.
11
Early Tuesday morning, a D.C. police boat was cruising near the inlet to the Tidal Basin on the east bank of the Potomac. An officer noticed something unusual. A closer look revealed a body, bleached white, bloated, and snagged in some undergrowth at the river’s edge, a stone’s throw from the Jefferson Memorial.
Mark was still asleep when Detective Swayze called. He described what they had found and said he had just talked to Mr. Tanner, who was back home in Martinsburg along with Gordy’s mother and the Karveys. Neither Todd nor Mark had spoken to Brenda or her father or the Tanners since their unpleasant meeting Saturday afternoon. Apparently, at some point Monday, the families had decided they could accomplish nothing by waiting in D.C.
Mark called Todd and Zola with the news. They agreed to meet in Zola’s apartment in an hour. Ten minutes later, as Mark was sitting on his sofa in the dark, sipping a cup of coffee, his phone rang. It was Gordy’s father. Mark stared at it, and, out of sympathy, reluctantly took the call. He offered condolences and was running out of things to say when Mr. Tanner said, “Say, Mark, could you do us a favor?”
Instinctively, he almost said no, but couldn’t at that moment. “Well, sure.”
“Could you and Todd go to the morgue and identify the body. I just can’t make that drive over, not for something like this.”
Mark was stunned. Three days ago the families were blaming him for Gordy’s death, and now they were asking him to run the worst errand imaginable? When Mark didn’t respond, Mr. Tanner said, “We’re just too upset right now, Mark, and, well, you and Todd are right there. Please. I know it’s an awful thing to ask, but it would help us tremendously.”
Somehow, Mark forced himself to say, “Sure.”
—
THE BODY HAD been taken to the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner which also housed the morgue. Todd parked on the street beside the modern glass building and they found the entrance. Detective Swayze met them in the lobby and thanked them for coming. He looked at Zola and said, “I really don’t think you need to see this.”
“I’m not going to. I’ll wait.”
“Good. There’s a waiting room over there,” he said, nodding, and Zola walked to it. Todd and Mark followed him down the stairs to a wide hallway. They stopped at a metal door beside a sign that read, “Body Storage.”
Swayze said, “It’s cold in there but this won’t take long.”
“How often do you do this?” Mark asked.
“Twice a week. The room holds two hundred. We never have a shortage of bodies here in the District.”
A lady in a white lab coat met them at the door and opened it. “Tanner, right?” she asked the detective.
“That’s right,” Swayze said. They stepped into a large, sterile cooler filled neatly with organized metal racks holding dozens of body bags, all navy blue, all zipped tightly from above the heads to below the feet. They turned a corner, passed more racks with more bodies, and abruptly stopped. A tag attached to a body bag gave the name “G. Tanner.?? Drowning.”
Mark glanced around and saw another tag. “Unknown. Gunshot.”
The lady took the zipper above the head and slowly pulled it down. She stopped at the chest and opened the bag. Gordy’s eyes were wide open, lifeless, as if he’d been screaming in horror as he hit the water. His skin was as white as new snow. By far the most gruesome feature was his tongue, thick and balled up and protruding grossly from his mouth. There were abrasions on his cheeks. His thick blond hair appeared to still be wet.
Mark leaned on the rack to steady himself. Todd mumbled, “Shit,” and bent over as if to throw up.
“Is this Gordon Tanner?” Swayze asked casually.
Mark nodded as Todd backed away.
The lady zipped him up again and picked up a small plastic bag. She said, “There were no shoes, socks, pants, or underwear. This is what’s left of his shirt. There’s nothing else.”
Swayze said, “That’s why we couldn’t do a positive ID. We figured it was him, but his wallet, keys, everything was missing. I’m sorry.”
Mark closed his eyes and said, “So am I.” For some reason, he touched the body bag around the ankles and gave it a pat. “So am I.”
They followed the lady out of Body Storage. In the hallway, Mark asked the detective, “So what happens now?”
“The family has done the paperwork. Their funeral home will come get him. He’ll be transported in a couple of hours.”
“Nothing else from us?”
“No. Thanks, and again I’m very sorry.”
“Thank you.”
They sat with Zola in the waiting room for a long time. Things were quiet and somber until Todd said, “Let’s get out of here.”
Outside, Mark stopped and said, “I guess I need to call Mr. Tanner.”
—
FOR THE REST of Tuesday and throughout Wednesday, Todd and Mark stayed close to Zola. She was unable to work and lost her job as a temp with the accounting firm. It was seasonal anyway. When Todd put in a few hours at the bar, Mark stayed with her. They took long walks around the city, hanging out in bookstores, window-shopping, and thawing out in coffee bars. When Mark puttered around Ness Skelton, Todd took her to the movies. They stayed in her apartment each night, though she assured them she was fine. She wasn’t. None of them were. They were sleepwalking through a nightmare and needed each other.