Three Times a Lady - By Jon Osborne Page 0,55

her hipbone painfully against the sharp edge of one corner in the process. ‘Not exactly must-see TV, huh?’ Dana asked, simultaneously wincing at the hot jolt of pain shooting through her hip.

Lawson shook her head and stood up, offering Dana the chair. ‘Whoa, careful there, honey. When you get to be my age, your hip will crack just like a bread stick if you’re not careful. And, no, it’s not must-see TV at all. Anyway, sit down, Agent Whitestone. I don’t know about you, but I have to sit about six inches away from the screen to see anything clearly any more. Old age is no fun, dear. If there’s any way you can avoid it, please do so. Just remember you heard it here first. I’d actually like to get some credit for my world-class brilliance one of these days.’

Lawson paused and sighed deeply. ‘Ah, what am I talking about? You’re still young and pretty so that’s something you don’t need to worry about for a very long time. Lucky girl.’

Lawson shook her head to chase away the thought and leaned down over Dana’s right shoulder, positioning the cursor over the ‘play’ button on the screen. ‘Just tap the trackpad once and you should be good to go,’ she said. ‘I think I’ll go grab a quick cup of coffee while you’re looking for what you need. Would you like some coffee, as well?’

Dana shook her head. ‘No, thank you, Miss Lawson. But are you sure you won’t get into any trouble for this? I could always come back later when you get the proper clearance – or when I get a search warrant. I’m not going to lie, though – this definitely saves me some time. It’s a huge help.’

Lawson waved a hand in the air and looked around the lobby again. ‘Hell, nobody ever comes in here,’ she said, almost underneath her breath. ‘Nobody who’d raise a stink about it, anyway. Besides, if we get caught I’ll just say that you overpowered me and threatened to arrest me if I didn’t let you see the video. Sound like a plan to you?’

Dana smiled. ‘Yep. Thanks again for all your help, Miss Lawson. I really appreciate this.’

Nancy Lawson squeezed Dana’s shoulder. ‘No problem, sweetheart. After all, we girls need to stick together, right? Anyway, I’ll be back in just a minute or two, OK?’

‘OK.’

Lawson headed down the hall with her high heels clicking loudly against the tiled floor, and Dana waited until the sound had faded away before tapping the trackpad on the computer. Movement sprang to life at once on the screen.

From the look of the angle of the footage, the camera Lawson had told Dana about had been mounted to the north wall of the autopsy room, mostly hidden by a potted plant that Dana only now realised she’d subconsciously thought looked out of place amongst all the cold gray steel. In the footage, Dr Phillip Johnson stood over Christian Manhoff’s naked body, accompanied by a pathology assistant.

Dana grimaced at the image of the huge rawhide bone shoved halfway down the dead man’s throat. The idea itself was bad enough, but to actually see it up close and personal and in living colour really hammered home the point just how horrific Manhoff’s death must have been.

There was no audio on the video, but Dana could see that Johnson was talking by the way his assistant scribbled down notes on a clipboard.

Dana leaned in closer to the computer. Unbelievably, thirty seconds later Johnson actually left the room.

Dana cursed under her breath. Obviously, five minutes had been far too generous of an estimate as to how much time the head coroner had spent with Christian Manhoff’s lifeless body. More like five seconds.

Dana clamped her teeth together until the muscles in her jaw-line bulged against the skin, leaning in even closer to the computer screen and focusing on the pathology assistant.

The man looked to be in his mid-forties, with thinning gray that had been parted sharply on the left side of his head. The paper mask covering the lower half of his face made determining any facial features difficult, but Dana felt certain Nancy Lawson would know who he was. The coroner’s office wasn’t all that big of a place – people-wise, at least – for the man to be an unknown entity. Unfamiliar faces wouldn’t go unnoticed around here, and Nancy Lawson seemed to be the sort of woman who’d notice everything.

A minute or so after Johnson had

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