CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

We came to Route 56, which went south, back toward Saranac Lake and the state police headquarters in Ray Brook, or north toward Potsdam and the morgue where Harry should have arrived by now.

Kate started to turn for Ray Brook, but I said, "Turn right. Let's go see Harry."

She reminded me, "Tom said to go-"

"You can't go too far wrong doing the opposite of what Tom Walsh says."

She hesitated, then turned toward Potsdam.

Within ten minutes, we passed the brown sign that said we were leaving Adirondack State Park.

A few miles later, we were in South Colton, where I saw Rudy talking to someone who was pumping his own gas. I said to Kate, "Pull in here."

She turned the car into the gas station. I leaned out the window and called, "Hey, Rudy!"

He came over to the car and asked me, "Hey, how'd you make out there?"

"The ice maker is fixed. I told Mr. Madox what you said about getting the money up front, and he paid me cash."

"Uh ... you wasn't supposed to-"

"He's very pissed at you, Rudy."

"Ah, jeez, you wasn't supposed to-"

"He wants to see you-tonight."

"Oh, jeez ..."

"I need to get to the county hospital in Potsdam."

"Uh ... yeah ... well, you just follow 56 north." He gave me directions to the hospital, and I said to him, "When you see Madox, tell him John Corey is also very good with a gun."

"Okay ..."

Kate pulled back onto the road, and we continued toward Potsdam. She said, "That sounded like a threat."

"To a guilty man, it's a threat. To an innocent man, it's an odd statement."

She didn't reply.

The terrain had opened up, and I could see houses and small farms now. The late-afternoon sun cast long shadows over the rolling hills.

Neither Kate nor I said much; there's something about the expectation of seeing a dead body that keeps the conversation subdued.

I kept thinking about Harry Muller, and it was hard for me to believe he was dead. I replayed my last conversation with him, and I wondered if I'd had a bad feeling about his assignment or if what happened since then made me think that. You never know. But I did know that whether or not I'd had this feeling of foreboding on Friday, I definitely had it now.

Within twenty minutes, we drove into the pleasant college town of Potsdam, where we found the Canton-Potsdam Hospital at the north end of town.

We parked in the lot and entered the small red-brick building through the front doors.

There was an information desk in the lobby, and I identified myself and asked the info lady where the morgue was located. She directed us to the surgical unit that she said doubled as the morgue. This did not speak well for the staff surgeons, and if I had been in a better mood, I'd have made a joke about that.

We turned down a few corridors and found the nurses' station at the surgical unit.

There were two uniformed state troopers chatting up the nurses, and Kate and I showed our credentials. I said, "We're here to ID Harry Muller. Are you with the body?"

One of the troopers replied, "Yes, sir. We accompanied the ambulance."

"Anyone else here?"

"No, sir. You're the first."

"Who else are you expecting?"

"Well, some FBI guys from Albany, and some guys from the State Bureau of Investigation."

We weren't going to have much time alone with the body before we had company. I asked, "Is the medical examiner here?"

"Yes, sir. She did a preliminary examination of the body and cataloged the personal effects. She's waiting for the state police and FBI."

"Okay. We'd like to see the body."

"I'll need you both to sign in."

I didn't want to sign in, so I said, "We're not here officially. The deceased was our colleague and friend. We're paying our respects."

"Oh ... sorry ... sure."

He led us to a big steel door that was marked OR.

The body of a homicide victim is considered a crime scene that needs to be secured, and the chain of evidence needs to be maintained; thus, the presence of the two state troopers and the sign-in sheet, which led me to conclude that someone other than Kate and I thought this was not a hunting accident.

The trooper opened the door and said, "You first."

I replied, "We'd like to be alone to pay our respects."

The trooper hesitated. "I'm sorry. I can't do that. I need to be-"

"I understand. Can you do me a favor and ask the medical examiner to meet us here? We'll wait."

"Sure."

He disappeared around a corner, and I opened the door. We entered the makeshift morgue.