repositioned herself in an uncomfortable plastic chair across from Dr. Singh, who sat behind a desk that resembled a miniature army tank.
“If your office supplies budget ever runs too low, I know a scrapper who’d gladly take this 1960s monstrosity off your hands.” Jennifer smoothed her hand over the dull metal finish. “Emile could probably get $200, minus his commission,” she added with a wide smile.
Dr. Singh laughed. “I believe the basement in any building is where old furniture goes to die, which in our case seems appropriate.”
“It does.”
Dr. Singh folded her hands together and put them on top of the desk. “So how can I help you? On the intercom you mentioned our latest John Doe.”
“Latest? Do you get a lot of them?” Jennifer asked.
“Maybe a dozen or so a year,” Dr. Singh replied nonchalantly, “but they aren’t classified as John or Jane Doe for very long. In the majority of the cases, a missing person report is the key to identifying a body found in a field or an alley or floating in the river.”
Jennifer retrieved her notebook and flipped to the information Mitch had given her. “The most recent find ... can you confirm it’s a Caucasian male in his mid-20s?”
“Yes to both questions. He was approximately 5’9” with a slim build and in good physical shape at the time of his death.”
“Was the cause drowning?” Jennifer asked as she wrote down the details.
“Without a full autopsy it’s hard to know conclusively. Using a large syringe, I did extract water from his lungs. There were also numerous contusions around his face and head. However, those could have occurred while the body floated in the water, making contact with debris in the river.”
“And he was fully clothed?”
“He was. Blue t-shirt, jeans, black socks and one Nike shoe –basic items you can purchase at any department stores. No jewellery.”
“Tattoos?”
“None. Also, his palms were smooth. I don’t believe he worked in a factory or did manual labour.”
“Hmmm ... this guy really is a mystery man,” Jennifer said. “So what’s next?”
“A police sketch artist is coming tomorrow to render a drawing to be released to the media,” Dr. Singh replied.
“That’ll work if he has family or friends in the area. But if he was a tourist and got rolled for his wallet, he might not be claimed for quite a while.”
“That is a possibility, yes. We can only do so much.”
“The irony is if this was a found puppy case, there could be a microchip imbedded under its skin for fast identification.”
Dr. Singh weighed this theory in her mind. “In the future that may be the case. As it stands, our fingerprints are still the best bet, but the police didn’t get a hit when they ran John Doe’s. I did take some blood samples for future DNA testing as well.”
Jennifer scanned her notes and then closed the pad. “I guess I’ll hold off with what you’ve told me until the police sketch is ready tomorrow.” Jennifer stood and extended her hand that contained her business card, which Dr. Singh took. “If there are any new developments, please give me a call.”
Dr. Singh shook Jennifer’s hand. “Of course.” Jennifer opened the office door. “Can you find your way back to the front lobby, Miss Malone?”
Jennifer looked at the bland coloured surroundings. “I will somehow,” she said, leaving the door partially open and making her way down the hallway she’d travelled earlier. “Where is Luke when you need him?” she muttered to herself, finally locating a main entrance wall sign with an arrow facing north.
Outside the air was warm and fresh, the opposite of the morgue setting Jennifer had left behind. In her car, she gave Mitch a phone call.
“I’ll tell Metro to get that sketch,” Mitch said. “Write up what you’ve got – a hundred words – and I’ll pass it along. How does that sound?”
“Like fifty words too many,” Jennifer said, noticing a small mark on her dress. Did it fly off the undercarriage of Luke the Transporter’s death wagon?
“What are you going to work on now?”
“Getting this stain out of my dress,” she responded absentmindedly.
“What stain?”
“It’s a long story, Mitch, involving a dead body. You wouldn’t understand or condone with your religious upbringing,” Jennifer said. “The less you know, the better. Plausible deniability. Trust me.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line until Mitch replied, “You’re right, I don’t want to know or understand! I just hope you wore gloves and will call your P.I. friend now about Councilman Tilley’s missing plaything.”
“I hope those two wore gloves,” Jennifer replied. “And yes, Jeffrey Hamill is on my call list today.”
“Does he still work for a box of donuts?”
“No, he’s increased his price to a box of cronuts. Specifically the chocolate-champagne ganache, orange sugar and champagne-chocolate glaze ones.”
“Each one has 600 calories and 80 grams of carbs!” Mitch said in disbelief. “I’ll hang up so you can call him, before his heart gives out.”
Their connection went dead.
“And ... bye-bye,” Jennifer said as Mitch’s image was swapped out with a smiling Liam Neeson screen saver. “Oh, Liam,” Jennifer sighed, “please find me like those bad men who abducted your daughter. I promise not to put up as much resistance.”
Her cinematic hero only continued to smile as Jennifer placed him on the passenger seat and headed toward the lot’s checkout booth. As she handed the attendant her parking ticket, she saw Luke and Maryanne exiting the front doors and walking to a bench. Neither were smiling, but Jennifer didn’t sense they were having a fight.
With her ticket paid (ten dollars per hour!) and receipt in hand, she waited for the bar to rise and slowly pulled next to the bench, rolling down her window.
“Everything okay?” she inquired. The words, ‘You look like someone died,’ hung back in her throat as she remembered Luke’s last call.
Luke and Maryanne looked over in astonishment. It was then that Jennifer noticed that they were holding the business cards she’d given Luke earlier.
“Tell her what you told me, Luke,” Maryanne implored, putting a reassuring hand on her boyfriend’s leg.
Simultaneously, Luke appeared to be terrified and embarrassed.
“Yeah, Luke, tell me,” Jennifer said with a grin. “I don’t bite, even though I say I’d consider it on my dating profile. But hey, everyone lies on those websites, right?”
“I
