by Dobi Cross
She took a step back, and then another backwards, turned and ran towards the doors. She pushed them open, sprinted towards the end of the hall, and raced up the staircase two steps at a time. She turned into another hallway at the top of the stairs and ran to the third door on the left. It was the office of the main professor taking them through the course.
Without bothering to knock, Zora jerked the door open and ran in.
A bespectacled set of eyes looked up at her with annoyance. It was obvious he had been reading his morning paper.
Zora put her hands on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath. “Professor, you … need … to … come.”
The round face, with owlish glasses and grayed temples, changed to one of concern. “What is it?”
Zora straightened as she continued to take quick breaths. “A body in the lab… Something’s wrong,” she said.
The professor sprang to his feet, sending his seat rocking to the side. He grabbed his lab coat from the coat rack at his far left and donned it. He took quick strides around his desk and headed to the door.
Zora turned and followed him, her hand holding the side of her waist. She struggled to keep up with him as he raced down the stairs and turned down the hall till he got to the lab. He breezed through the doors, and his eyes were drawn to the uncovered body at the back of the room.
The professor marched to the table and saw the blood pooling onto the sides of the body. He grabbed a latex glove from his lab coat and pulled it onto his right hand.
By now, Zora had caught up with him and stood beside the table. The professor ran a finger at the back of the neck and noted a powdery substance on his gloved finger as he pulled his finger away. The area he had touched now had an exposed creamy looking skin. He moved his hand to the side of the neck and felt for the carotid pulse.
Zora peered closer. “What’s wrong with this body?” she asked.
The professor didn't answer. He dipped his other ungloved hand into his lab coat, brought out his cell phone, and called campus security.
CHAPTER THREE
It was now mid-morning, and the lab had become a beehive of activity. The doors were blocked off by yellow tape with a policeman standing guard. Two detectives had arrived, one tall with lion mane hair and a heavy set jaw, dressed in a dark blue jacket that hung loosely on him. The other was much shorter with thinning brown hair and a protruding forehead. He was clad in a black leather jacket that barely covered his rotund belly.
A petite lady in a grey suit walked in behind them with a big black case. Zora guessed she was the medical examiner. A young man in blue jeans and green shirt trailed in with her and took pictures of the body.
The detectives quickly honed in on Zora and the professor. They ushered them both towards the classroom next door.
As Zora exited the lab, she saw her classmates and a few other faces she didn’t recognize milling around in the hallway, but none approached her.
The tall detective led them through the door and towards the center of the classroom. The cushioned chairs were arranged in a lecture theatre seating style with a large central lectern, and each chair had its own desk. The detectives leaned against one of the desks closest to the lectern. Zora and the professor slipped into nearby chairs.
The tall detective pulled out a pen and a little notebook from his jacket and addressed them. “I’m Detective Morris, and this is my partner Detective Shepherd. I’m assuming you made the nine-one-one call,” he said, gesturing at the professor.
“I’m Professor Braun. Yes, I did. Miss Zora Smyth ran into my office this morning.”
Zora’s eyebrows lifted. She hadn’t expected him to know her name.
“Can you remember what time she came to you?” Morris asked.
Professor Braun looked at Zora. “I believe it was seven-forty-five a.m.”
The detective made a note in his little book.
“I had just finished reading the newspapers. It takes me about fifteen minutes every morning to do so, and I like to read it at seven-thirty a.m.,” the professor continued. “That’s when there is a low chance of being interrupted.
“She burst into my office and told me that there was something wrong with a body in the lab. So I raced down. I saw the body lying prone on the table with first cuts on the back.”
“First cuts?” Shepherd gave the professor a questioning look.
“We teach the students to make three initial cuts to start the dissection of any cadaver,” Professor Braun expounded. “A horizontal cut from shoulder to shoulder, a cut vertically along the spine, and a third above the tailbone. I noticed blood pooling on the table from these cuts, which is highly unusual. A cadaver at most would leak embalming fluid instead since the blood is extracted during the embalming process.
“I ran my finger on the skin and noticed gray powder coming off on my glove. It seemed someone had made an effort to mask the victim as a cadaver. The exposed skin looked like it had been alive recently. I checked the pulse to confirm if she was alive, and then called nine-one-one.”
Morris now turned to Zora. “Was this your first cadaver?”
Zora wrung her hands together but hid them under the desk. “Yes, I got in here around seven-thirty to get a head start on the dissection.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be working in teams for this sort of thing?”
“Yes, we are. But my lab partners and I agreed yesterday that I would go ahead and make the first cuts, since they were more squeamish than I am. They would join me at eight a.m.”
“So what happened?”
“When I arrived, all the bodies were on the tables and covered with sheets. My team and I had been assigned our table, so I just headed there. I began the cuts not long after since the body was already lying prone on the table.”
“Did you notice anything unusual?”
“Not really. I walked around the table to examine the body from all sides to see if there were any notable scars or marks, but everything seemed okay. The body appeared a little bloated and the victim’s hair seemed shiny, which I didn’t expect. But I haven’t been around cadavers a lot, so I just assumed that it was peculiar to this body.”
“So what happened next?”
“I made the cuts, but then noticed that blood was seeping from the incision edges. It was so unexpected that I ran up to the professor’s office. I’d seen his car in the parking lot when I came in, so I assumed that he would be in his office. I told him something was wrong with the body. You already know what happened next.”
“Do you have cameras in the lab?” Morris asked Professor Braun.
“No, we don’t, but we have one in the hallway,” he responded.
Morris gave a quick nod to Shepherd, who left the room.
“Who normally has access to this section of the building?” Morris asked.
“The professors and staff, and medical students. We also have janitors—one per shift—for the building who makes sure that everything is locked up. Most folks are out of the building by nine p.m. But you can still enter the lab as long as your ID card has permission to do so.”
“Do all medical students have access?”
“No. They all can enter the building, but only the first years can get into the lab. Staff who have permission to work in the lab can enter as well.”
“Can we get a list of all those who can do so?”
“Sure. I can ask my secretary to give you a list.”
The professor stood up and walked a few steps away. He pulled his phone from his lab coat pocket and dialed a number. Zora could see his mouth moving as he talked to someone on the other end of the line.
Detective Shepherd poked his head through the open doorway. “Morris, I have the janitor here with me.”
Morris waved them both in. Zora saw a man who seemed to be in his early sixties walk in behind Shepherd. He was dressed in a matching pair of green scrubs and had a scruffy, unkempt look about him.
“And you are …” Detective Morri
s asked the newcomer.
“Pickles. Alfred Pickles,” the man responded in an old tired voice.
Zora snorted. She caught Morris giving her a stern look.
Zora ducked her head and stared intently at her hands.
“So, Mr. Pickles, when did you arrive in the building today?”
“I work night shifts from eight p.m. till eight a.m., so I’ve been here since last night. My replacement came in late, which is why I’m still around.”
“Did you notice anything strange last night or this morning?”
“It was generally quiet.” The man rubbed his fingers along his jaw. “Although I saw a figure in a hooded jacket last night coming out from the lab as I was doing my rounds.”
Zora felt eyes on her. She looked up to see the janitor staring at her. The look was unnerving.
Zora shivered and looked away.
“What time was this?” Morris asked.
The janitor turned back to Morris. “It was around nine p.m. I typically do my rounds at that time to make sure people have left the building.” The man paused and cleared his throat. “That’s when I saw the person in the hooded jacket coming out of the lab. Looked like a student. I called out to the person, but he or she took off running down the emergency stairs like he or she had done something wrong.
“By the time I got to the door leading to the stairs, the person was long gone. I walked back and checked the lab but didn’t notice anything amiss. I checked the other rooms on the floor, and nothing was unusual. I then made a note of it in my report, which I handed over to my colleague this morning.”
“Anything else?” Morris asked Pickles.
The old man shook his head. “Nothing that I can remember.”
“Thanks for your help. Why don’t you give your contact details to Detective Shepherd? We’ll get back to you if we have any additional questions. Here’s my card in case you remember anything else.”
The man nodded and took the proffered card. He walked with Shepherd to the door.
Zora noticed the man give her a final backward glance before exiting the room. She had a bad feeling about it. And she saw Morris had noticed the look too.
Zora rose to her feet. Her right leg felt like it had fallen asleep, and she tried to massage the feeling back to it. She could see that her professor was still occupied on the phone. She was suddenly tired and wanted to get as far away from the building as possible.
“If there’s nothing else, I’d like to leave,” she said to Morris.
Morris regarded her with a cool gaze. It seemed to Zora that he had made a quick judgment of her and found her lacking. “Okay, make sure you leave your details as well with Detective Shepherd on your way out.” He was about to say something else but seemed to hold himself back.
She gave him a quick nod and limped ungracefully towards the exit.
The door opened as she got closer. Detective Shepherd stepped in. He walked past Zora and she heard him whisper to Morris. Then the whispers stopped. Instead, Zora felt their eyes on her back. It was like they knew something she didn’t.
She forced herself to remain calm and lifted her chin. Appearances were everything with the police. And she hadn’t done anything wrong.
She didn’t bother turning back to Detective Shepherd—the police could track her down easily if they wanted. It was not like she was going anywhere.
She opened the door, slipped out, and closed the door quietly behind her.
CHAPTER FOUR
Zora leaned back on the couch in her apartment and closed her eyes. She was glad to be back home. This was her place of refuge. A haven for both her and Christina.
Christina was her best friend from childhood and an ER nurse at the local hospital. Christina had offered to move in with her when Zora’s mother expressed her displeasure at Zora living alone in town.
Painted in muted pink and adorned with pink and gold polka dot curtains, her living room with its color-splattered couch and green plants reflected how she always wanted her life to be— serene but full of color. Right now, her life was a far cry from that.
What had happened this morning had been scary. Her heart raced just thinking about it. A woman had just died. On her table. A table death. And she wasn’t even a surgeon in the OR yet.
Zora’s hands couldn’t stop shaking, and she wrapped her arms around her body. She had flayed the victim’s back. And may have become a murderer if not that she arrived later than planned from stopping at her favorite specialty coffee shop for a quick cup of coffee. She had heard the rumors as she left the building that the medical examiner believed the victim had died not too long ago.
What if the woman had been alive when she started dissecting? Zora shuddered at the thought and fought to keep her mind from going down that road. Thank goodness that didn’t happen.
She took a series of deep breaths. You need to relax or else … She took another set of deep breaths. She couldn’t afford a panic attack. Not right now.
After a few moments, her body responded. Her heart slowed its rapid gallop. Crisis was averted.
But Zora couldn’t stop thinking about the woman. Who was she? And who had put her on Zora’s table? Was it really a coincidence?
How had the killer gained access to the lab? Everyone who entered the building had to use an approved key pass. What if it was a fellow medical student?
Zora shook her head. It was wrong of her to think of her colleagues as killers. They were in the business of saving lives not taking them. Or was it an employee? Was someone else trying to set her up? So many what ifs and no answers.
Zora’s head spun with all the questions, and she felt a headache coming on. She rubbed her temples as if to drive away the pain. She needed to forget about everything for now.
The shrill tone of her phone cut through the air. Zora tried to ignore it, but the phone kept ringing. She forced herself to sit up and reached for her bag on the coffee table. She dug through it and found her phone. A look at the caller ID showed it was her mother calling.
Zora couldn’t hold back a groan. Her mother was the last person she wanted to talk to right now. But Zora knew she wouldn't stop calling till she answered the phone, so she pressed the green button.
"Zora," she heard her mom say on the other end of the line.
"Hello, Mother,” Zora replied, her voice caustic.
"I heard there was a problem at school.”
“Are you now spying on me?” she snapped.
Zora couldn’t help herself. Things had not been the same between her and her mom ever since her sister had been kidnapped. And Zora blamed her mom for it.
"It's all over the news though they didn’t say who found the body,” her mom responded.
Zora grabbed the remote from the coffee table and switched on the TV. There was a reporter standing on the grass in front of a red brick colonial. Zora recognized it as the Gross Anatomy building. The reporter was talking about the body that had been found.
Zora sighed. Her name hadn’t been mentioned but she knew it was only a matter of time before the news hounds found out she had discovered the body. This was the first time she could ever recall her school being on the news, and she knew the networks would milk it for all its worth. Which meant they would try and find out everything about the case. Including her.
"Are you okay?” her mother asked.
Zora had forgotten her mom was still on the line. She knew she needed to tell her how she was involved in the case, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.
"Why wouldn't I be?” she retorted instead.
She heard her mother sigh on the other end of the line. “A simple yes or no would have sufficed. I’m just checking to make sure you are okay.”
Zora knew that was true, but the words somehow fled her mind whenever her mom was concerned.
Zora heard another voice in the background. She could sense what her mother was about to say next.
"I have to go. I have a meeting now. I'll talk to you later, ok
ay?” The line went dead.
Zora wanted to throw her phone across the room. Her mother elicited this response from her anytime she mentioned going to a meeting. Not that there was anything wrong with meetings. Zora attended some herself. But that had always been her mom’s excuse every time Zora had a competition in middle and high school, every time she needed her, and even when her sister had been kidnapped. Those words always cut her to the marrow. And her mother never stopped using them. As a result, their relationship remained on the rocks, and Zora didn’t know how to change it.
Zora ran her hand through her hair. She didn’t need this today, not with what had happened. It was terrible timing.
She flopped back on the couch and dropped her cellphone on the coffee table. Switching on the TV had been a bad idea. Watching it had reminded her of what she was trying to forget.
And somehow she couldn’t shake off the feeling that things were only going to get worse.
CHAPTER FIVE
Calvin Faulkner removed his glasses, placed them on the desk, and rubbed his eyes. He was bone tired after working long hours for the past few days and needed a little rest. But that seemed like a luxury he couldn’t afford right now.
He looked out through his slightly ajar office door and realized his secretary was not at her desk. She must have gone for lunch, the only time Sarah Murray ever left her desk. How she got all the work done without stepping a foot away from her spot was still a mystery. He checked the time on his Grand Seiko wristwatch. It was one p.m. His assumption was correct.
Sarah Murray never missed lunch. It was prime time to pump the other secretaries and assistants in the company for morsels of gossip. Calvin had found out that contributing to the office grapevine was a favorite pastime of hers after she had been transferred to his office. Of course, he had benefited from her hobby a time or two, but that didn’t mean he approved of it. After all, she must have been sharing gossip about him in return.
