True Blue - By David Baldacci Page 0,109

But you can easily determine if it was a donation to a sperm bank like ours.”

“How?” Mace asked quickly.

“As soon as the specimen is provided you have to inject buffers as a preservative into the semen. If done promptly and then frozen, semen can really be stored indefinitely. However, the maximum allowable time by current law is ten years unless the donor was under the age of forty-five when the specimen was given. And even then the sperm can only be used by the donor and his partner, and not given to anyone else.”

“Ten years, wow,” said Mace. “Long time to keep the little fellows swimming around.”

“Without a preservative and proper storage the sperm contained in the semen will have diminished motility after two or three days and the sample will be no good to us after, say, five days. And our clients would not be very happy with that, would they?”

“So, shooting blanks, in other words?” said Mace.

The nurse sniffed. “Crudely put, but accurate. When we send semen out to our clients the specimens are cryopreserved in screw-top vials. The vials come inside a refrigerated tank or dry shipper since it is actually a metal vacuum bottle refrigerated with liquid nitrogen. The semen is sent with detailed instructions on thawing and utilization.”

Sort of takes all the romance out of it, thought Mace.

“So to answer your question directly, we use a TEST yolk buffer solution as a preservative. Many other sperm banks do the same.”

“Yolk? As in egg?” said Mace with a trace of disgust.

“Not exactly, no, and it’s a perfectly accepted method of preservation.”

Roy said, “So if it’s not a semen donation?”

“Then there will be no preservative. And I can assure you that there won’t be with the person you described. He would never have gotten past the initial round of medical forms. And if he’s a Vietnam veteran as you mentioned he would’ve been disqualified right away.”

“You disqualify Vietnam vets?” said Roy sharply.

“No, of course not, it’s based on age. We, along with most sperm banks, don’t accept specimens from anyone over the age of forty. Indeed, most of our donors are under the age of thirty, many of them college students.”

“Looking for beer money,” commented Mace.

“I wouldn’t know about that.”

“Are you open every day?” asked Mace.

“We’re closed on Wednesdays and Sundays.”

“So the building is empty then?”

The woman looked at her and said in a contemptuous tone, “That would usually be the case when we’re closed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

“Lots of eggs to crack today?” said Mace.

The woman led them out without saying another word.

When they were outside Roy said, “Wow, I really dig your interrogation technique. First, piss the person off, and then see what she won’t tell us.”

“That woman was not going to knowingly help us from the getgo, but she did tell us at least one thing of importance other than the yolk thing.”

“What?”

“That they’re closed on Wednesdays and Sundays. Now we need to get the sperm sample they found in Tolliver checked out. Lowell Cassell can do it.”

“And if there’s no yolk?”

“Then maybe the Captain is lying.”

“I don’t think he’s mentally capable of coming up with something like this.”

“I don’t think so either, but nothing would surprise me anymore. If it does come back without the preservative, the Captain is probably going down for this.”

“But what if he came here and they took sperm from him but didn’t inject the preservative in it?”

“And why would they do that, Roy? Because they were planning to kill Diane Tolliver and blame it on the Captain? You think the petite sperm expert back there crushed your partner’s brain stem and then injected her with sperm taken under false pretenses?”

“No, but maybe one of the doctors? The Captain said a white building. And he said some guy helped him. He obviously came here.”

Mace considered this. “We’ll have to get a roster of who works here and check out any viable suspects.”

“In the meantime can you call Cassell to run the test?”

“No, but I’ll phone my sister. I’ll do it tomorrow morning.”

“Why not now?”

“Because I have to work up the nerve, that’s why!”

“Why not just bypass her?”

“How? I can’t exactly order the ME to run the damn test.”

Roy’s phone buzzed.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Kingman? It’s Gary, the waiter from Simpsons.”

“Oh, right. Gary from Simpsons,” he said so Mace would know. Roy hit the speakerphone button and held the phone up.

“Did you remember something else, Gary?”

“Well, it wasn’t what I remembered. It’s what I just

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