Either Calvin didn't notice or he just elected to ignore the disrespect, because he concluded his remarks without making a scene and introduced the chief of the Brooklyn office, Dr. Jim Bennett.

Each one of the chiefs from the respective borough offices stood up to give their presentations. When Dick Katzenburg from Queens got behind the microphone and started speaking, Laurie had a flashback to her cocaine conspiracy twelve years earlier. It was at a Thursday-afternoon conference that she had the idea of discussing her overdoses with the group, and the ensuing discussion had been helpful, thanks to Dick. She wondered why the idea of doing the same with the Manhattan General cases hadn't occurred to her, and she thought about bringing it up. But then she changed her mind. She was too stressed-out to deal with the anxiety of talking in front of the group. But then she waffled again when she reminded herself that Calvin seemed to be in a reasonably tolerant mood.

At the end of Margaret Hauptman's presentation of the Staten Island statistics, Calvin reclaimed the podium and asked if anyone else wanted the microphone for any other business. It was a pro forma offer that was rarely accepted, since people were eager to leave. After a moment of painful indecision, Laurie tentatively raised her hand. Any chance of changing her mind was dashed when Calvin quickly but reluctantly recognized her. Jack twisted around in his seat in front of her and gave her an exasperated questioning expression that implied: Why are you extending this agony?

Laurie walked unsteadily up to the podium. She felt a jolt of adrenaline, since speaking in front of groups always intimidated her. As she adjusted the microphone, she berated herself for getting into such a situation. She certainly didn't need any more stress.

"First, let me apologize," Laurie began. "I hadn't prepared for this, but it just occurred to me that I would like to get some general response from everyone about a current series of mine."

Laurie looked down at Calvin and could tell that his eyes had narrowed. She sensed that he knew what was coming and didn't approve. She glanced back at Jack, and as soon as her eyes connected with his, he positioned his fingers like a gun and pretended to shoot himself in the head.

With such negative vibes, Laurie felt even more insecure. To collect her thoughts, she looked down at the lectern's defaced wooden surface with its myriad initials and doodles encased with ballpoint-pen marks. Vowing to avoid making eye contact with either Calvin or Jack, she raised her eyes and launched into a short description of her Sudden Adult Death Syndrome, or SADS, a term she admitted she'd coined when talking with a professional colleague five weeks ago, about four totally unexpected, hospital-based cardiac arrests that had resisted resuscitation. She said she now had six cases spanning a six-week period, all of which had similar demographics: young, healthy, and within twenty-four hours of elective surgery. She went on to say that there was no pathology on gross or microscopic, although on the last two cases, she had yet to do the microscopic, since they had been posted that very morning. She concluded by saying that despite toxicology failing to come up with any possible arrhythmic agent, she suspected that the manner of death in these cases was not natural or accidental.

Laurie let her voice trail off. Her mouth was bone-dry. She would have loved a drink of water, but she stayed where she was. The implication of her monologue was immediately clear to the group, and for a few seconds, silence reigned in the conference room. Then a hand shot up, and Laurie called on the individual.

"What about electrolytes: sodium, potassium, and particularly calcium?"

"The lab reported all electrolytes from all the usual sample sources to be entirely normal," Laurie responded. She then called on another person who raised his hand.

"Are the patients related in any way other than all being young, healthy, and having just had surgery?"

"Not that is apparent. I've made it a point to search for commonalities, but I haven't found any other than what I have mentioned. The cases involve mostly different doctors, different procedures, different anesthetic agents, and, for the most part, different medications, even for postoperative pain."

"Where have they occurred?"

"All six have been at the same hospital: the Manhattan General."

"Which has an extremely low death rate," Calvin snapped. He'd had enough. He stood up, approached the podium, and used his bulk to nudge Laurie aside. He bent the microphone up, and a harsh squeal emanated from the speakers as if in protest. "Calling these disparate cases at this stage 'a series' is misleading and prejudicial because, as Dr. Montgomery has admitted, they are not related. I've told Dr. Montgomery this before, and I'm telling her again. I'm also telling this august assemblage that this is an in-house discussion that doesn't leave this room. OCME is not going to tarnish the reputation of one of the city's premier tertiary-care centers with unsubstantiated innuendo."

"Six is rather a lot for a coincidence," Jack said. He had revived when Laurie got up to speak. Although he was not asleep, he was slouched back in his seat with his legs draped over the seat in front of him.

"Would you kindly show some respect, Dr. Stapleton," Calvin growled.

Jack put his feet down on the floor and sat up. "Four was borderline, but six is too many when they are all at the same hospital. Still, I'm going to vote for accidental. Something in the hospital is affecting these patients' conduction systems."

Dick Katzenburg raised his hand. Calvin motioned with his head for him to speak.

"My colleague at the Queens office just reminded me that we saw some similar cases," Dick said. "It's our recollection that the demographics were quite similar: all relatively young and supposedly healthy. The last case was at least a few months ago, and we haven't had one since."

"How many overall?" Laurie asked.

Dick leaned toward Bob Novak, his deputy, and listened for a moment, then straightened up. "We think it was also six. But it was spread over a period of several months with a number of examiners. Just when we began to be a bit curious about them, they stopped, and as a consequence, they have sort of dropped off our radar. It's my recollection that all were eventually signed out as natural, even though no significant pathology was found. I know for certain that toxicology was negative on all of them, because that would have certainly been brought to my attention."

"Were they postoperative?" Laurie asked. She was taken aback, excited, and pleased. It would be déjà vu if her series were to double from having brought up the issue at a Thursday conference. And if it did double, the profile of these cases would surely be even more of a mental diversion than it had been to date.

"I believe so," Dick said. "Sorry that I can't be more definitive."

"I understand," Laurie said. "Where did these deaths occur?"

"At Saint Francis Hospital."

"Ah, the plot thickens," Jack commented. "Isn't St. Francis another AmeriCare hospital?"

"Dr. Stapleton!" Calvin snapped. "Kindly maintain a modicum of decorum! Allow yourself to be recognized if you wish to contribute to the conversation."

"It is an AmeriCare institution," Dick said, turning toward Jack and ignoring Calvin.

"How soon can I get their names and accession numbers?" Laurie asked.

"I'll e-mail them to you as soon as I get back to the Queens office," Dick said. "Or we can just call my secretary. I think she could find the list."

"I'd like them as soon as possible," Laurie said. "I'd like to get their hospital charts, and the sooner I get the accession numbers to one of our investigators, the better."