CHAPTER 1

The Envelope

Hi! Really nice to meet you. Can't stay for long, 'cause things are really busyat my end. Let me tell you how it all started just a few hectic days ago just as Iremember it.

The slightly short-sighted, deep-blue eyes of the president of the UnitedStates opened slowly and blinked twice. At first they sleepily focused on anelaborately embroidered, matching deep-blue silk pillow. With some effort,just in view over the top, the president could blurrily make out the right profileof a beautiful woman lying very quietly, her body covered up to her neck withtheir shared deep-blue silk bedsheet.

The room was chilly, almost cold, in the always overly air-conditionedmaster bedroom of the White House living quarters. Recollections of theecstasies of last night's erotic excesses were mingled lovingly and more maturelywith the joy of having so recently received this heavenly gift, now lying thereso artfully, so calmly, so comfortably.

Almost reflexively the president's hand reached across the pillow to strokeher slightly tanned forehead. Fingers touched her, only to be jerked away infright. The forehead was cold. Colder than the room. Colder than a corpse.

Tearing off the sheet, the president cried out in a smothered scream,"Sheryl! What's the matter?" Sheryl did not reply, but a blue envelope tapedsecurely to her otherwise naked stomach mutely shouted back at the now fullyawake president.

Grabbing the phone with one hand and ripping the envelope off with theother, the president started to punch in the code for White House security buthesitated, slowly replacing the phone into its charger. Better to investigate thecontents of the envelope first. Might this be a suicide note?

The envelope contained a single page with two typed lines on one sideand no signature. The president read the two obscure lines twice, in a panic,but couldn't understand them—not because of the panic but because theymade no sense at all.

Oops! Just got another call. Like I said, things are hopping. Have to fly now.I'll be back later, but in the meantime, I'll adjust the settings so you can followthe action in real time. Remember, this is all happening several days ago. Hold onjust a sec ... almost got it. Okay, here goes ...

Stumbling out of bed, the president not quite blindly reaches the bedroomdoor, throwing it open to find Steve, the six-foot-five, ever-vigilant, nocturnalSecret Service agent, slumped awkwardly in a straight-backed antique chairplaced discretely several yards down the hall.

Steve, wake up; get off your ass and get the Doc! Now!

Still somnolent, Steve starts and stutters, What? What was that, Mrs.President? The doctor? What's the matter?

Just get the goddamn doctor ... now!

The agent leaps from his seat and runs down the hall, not mentallyvisualizing until just before he bursts into the doctor's bedroom that thepresident had been completely naked. "Yup. Bare-ass naked ... and reallyfoxy for an old broad!" as Steve would injudiciously recount to one of his newcoworkers a few days later, now that he had been reassigned and was safelydistanced from "Her Majesty."

Fifty seconds after Steve burst into her bedroom shouting that somethingwas wrong with the "chief," Dr. Kristin Koo enters the president's bedroomsuite, a small medical bag in her left hand and a large question in the rightside of her brain. What's Meryl on about this time? Another nightmare?

Dr. Koo sees the president, now in her bathrobe, head down as if in deep,isolated thought, pacing slowly between the Louis XIV dresser and the tall,elegant sixteenth-century Villefranche pendulum clock on the other side of theroom. She's holding a piece of letter paper in her left hand and a drink in theother. Probably straight Scotch is the doctor's disapproving mental note.

This disapproving note vanishes when Dr. Koo sees a shape on the bedthat looks very much like somebody hiding under the sheet. Who does she thinkshe's hiding from?, muses Dr. Koo.

The president takes a long, steady pull from her glass, then for the firsttime seems to notice Dr. Koo's presence.

She's dead, whispers the president, responding to Dr. Koo's questioningnod toward the lump under the sheet.

Pardon me, Meryl, the doctor says. Then more loudly, Mrs. President. Thedoctor remembers she hadn't closed the door to the bedroom in her haste.Mrs. President, is this another one of your nightmares?

With an uncharacteristically flat and slow delivery, President Meryl M.Montessori mummers, It's my worst nightmare, Krissy. Somebody got throughsecurity and assassinated me. Only they killed the wrong woman. They killed theonly woman I've ever loved.

While these last four sentences pour slowly out past the president's wide,sensual lips, Dr. Kristin Koo's pretty porcelain face glides smoothly from alook of clinical comprehension to surprise, to horror, and then at last to anexpression of hatred and pain. The doctor's face then immediately returnsto its normal, professional blankness, mixed with caring concern for herpatient.

For Christ's sake, Krissy! Don't just stand there. Tell me what happened.

Of course, Mrs. President. But aren't you the one who's supposed to tell me?Had I been in bed with you last night I might have something to say on the subjectof what happened. As it is ...

Don't push that button, Doctor. Not now. You know damn well what Imeant.

Indeed, Dr. Koo had known and was already moving toward the oppositeside of the bed to examine Sheryl's corpse. Now is not the time to analyze adead affair. It's time to examine a dead body. Dr. Koo keeps this grotesquelyironic thought very much to herself.

Dr. Koo closes her painful memories and opens her small medical bag.She has had a bit of forensic experience in her past, but she's certainly not aqualified coroner. Regardless, before anyone else arrives, it is important thatshe at least try to find out what killed Sheryl Smith, recently resigned assistantnational security advisor but currently, until this morning, performing veryactive services for the president.

Her first thoughts are not about the corpse, but rather about how trulygorgeous Sheryl had been in life and still is in death. Dr. Koo knows thatSheryl's brilliant mind is already wasting, the synapses disconnecting as thebillions of individual cells packed tightly inside her cranium start the slowprocess of dissolving into mush. But her body is just as Dr. Koo had imaginedit would be when she had these last weeks thought of her and Meryl embracingin this same room, this same bed, these same sheets that not so long ago thepresident's very personal physician had shared.

Shaking loose from this inappropriate reverie, Dr. Koo runs her handsdispassionately over the two short, rectangular contusions she observes onSheryl's abdomen. These are slightly bluish-red and are located where the tapemust have firmly held the now torn envelope that Dr. Koo sees balanced onthe edge of the bed, where Meryl must have tossed it after ripping it off ofSheryl's stomach in what had surely been a moment of panic. The two stripsof tape, still adhering to the envelope, are the approximate length and widthof the bruises.

Dr. Koo surmises that the envelope had contained the letter Meryl wasagain staring at. Funny that she hadn't said anything about it or where she'dobviously found it.

When did you two fall asleep last night?

I don't know. After midnight. Why?

I'm trying to determine how long she's been dead.

Oh, Meryl replies shortly, having heard the strained, emotional timberof her initial reply.

How do you know it was after midnight?

We went to bed right after dinner around nine, and we were ... were talkingfor at least three hours.

Knowing Meryl's youthful sex drive, Dr. Koo doubts whether there wasmuch conversation but accepts the fact that the couple did not fall into anexhausted slumber for at least three hours, maybe longer.

Did you wake up at any time before you discovered ... before you sent Steveto get me?

No.

Dr. Koo looks through her bag but can't immediately find a rectalthermometer. That can wait a few minutes. Probably just as well that Merylnot see Sheryl's body being "messed with" by the insertion of anything intoher anus. Still, somehow she must get Meryl out of the room soon, becausethe loss of body temperature is useful in determining time of death.

Do you want to call anybody? Dr. Koo knows that the only secure externalphone line is in Meryl's private office, adjacent to the bedroom.

Not yet. Meryl knows her voice is still too revealing of her shock and grieffor her to talk to anyone but Krissy for the moment. Besides, she needs toknow the cause of death. What could make a body so cold?

The doctor continues her visual examination of the corpse. There are noother signs of trauma anywhere on the face, neck, breasts, legs, arms, or feet.No other discoloration of the skin that might indicate certain poisons orasphyxiation as the cause of death.

The already bluish tinge to the contusions are consistent with deathhaving occurred over an hour ago, but the idiosyncratic timing of that processmakes the shifting from red to blue an unreliable indicator.

Dr. Koo is surprised to find such markings on the abdomen. She knowsthat even the passing of a tire or wheel over this pliable area does not normallyleave an external bruise, only bruising of the less compressible internal organs.Women, even flat-bellied, firm ones, have more subcutaneous fat than menand therefore greater susceptibility to contusions. But even considering thisfactor, Dr. Koo would not have expected to observe any trauma of the skincaused by the mere pressing of tape onto the abdominal area. The pressureapplied must of been very high or the abdomen unusually firm, such as if thestomach were distended by gas or a large volume of food or liquid. There's noswelling of the skin in the area of the contusions, indicating that the traumawas inflicted after death. The postmortem examination will reveal whetherthere is any subdural ecchymosis or discoloration under the skin in the area ofthe contusion caused by coagulated blood. If there is little or none, this willconfirm that Sheryl was dead before the envelope was secured.

I assume you don't want anybody else in here before I've completed mypostmortem. Hate to ask, but could you help me turn Sheryl over?

Do you have to?

Yes.

Meryl hesitates but comes around to the other side of the bed.

How do we do this?

You hold her feet together at the ankles. I'll take care of the rest. Just help meturn her over when I say, "Now."

Dr. Koo leans over the body and places her hands face up underneathSheryl's left shoulder. Meryl reluctantly but firmly takes hold of the ankles.

Now.

Both women are amazed at how completely stiff Sheryl's whole body isas it is turns over.

My God! How could rigor be present so soon?

What?

And she's cold. I mean freezing.

What did you mean "rigor"?

Rigor mortis. After several hours a dead body stiffens like this. But not likethis.

Quickly noting that there are no signs of trauma anywhere on the back ofthe head, neck, legs, arms, and torso, Dr. Koo repeatedly presses her thumbfirmly along Sheryl's back and legs. The flesh is unyielding, very cold, andfrozen solid like a beef carcass hanging on a hook in cold storage.

Help me turn her onto her back.

Meryl stands motionless, staring at her hands.

Meryl!

Meryl takes hold of the ankles while Dr. Koo again grabs under the leftshoulder and together they pull Sheryl onto her back. Dr. Koo again repeatedlyapplies pressure, this time starting from the vulva, then the abdomen, thebreasts, and the neck.

This is impossible! She's been frozen alive. She's been frozen from theinside.

Meryl's knees begin to buckle. She sways unsteadily for a moment andthen rights herself.

There's not a single white, red, or yellow patch of skin anywhere on her body.Dr. Koo softly says to herself in a perplexed tone.

What the hell does that mean?

Frostbite, even the first stage of frostbite, isn't present, let alone any blisters. It'sjust not possible to freeze flesh without some degradation of the skin. Impossible!

Meryl stands mute, pale and unsteady, her body swaying back and forthseveral degrees off center.

Meryl, what was in the envelope you ripped off of Sheryl's abdomen?

This time when Meryl's knees buckle she collapses into an awkwardsitting position on the carpet, looking much like a newly born colt after failingon its first attempt to stand. Meryl's mind mimics this posture ... completelyconfused, bewildered.

Meryl's thoughts tumble around ... How did Krissy know where I'd foundthe envelope? How did she know I tore it off? Meryl, of course, has not beenprivy to Dr. Koo's earlier, unexpressed forensic deductions. She did it! Shekilled her.

You bitch! You fucking bitch! You killed her! Oh God, you killed her!

Dr. Koo, looking down with astonishment at her former lover, now clearlytemporarily insane former lover, reaches down to pick up the letter that Merylhas dropped on the floor before taking hold of Sheryl's ankles the first time.

Knocking Dr. Koo's hand out of the way with a vicious swipe of herclinched fist, Don't touch me you bitch! Meryl shrieks, thinking Krissy is tryingto help her up off the floor.

I wouldn't dream of it, my dear. I just want to see what's in that letter.

Like bloody hell you do. You damn well already know what's in it. You justwant to get rid of the evidence. Get the fuck out of here! Now, goddamn it.

All of Meryl's shock and confusion has been replaced by fury anddisgust.

Now it is Dr. Koo's turn to be emotional and confused. She runs to thedoor, slams it open without pausing, and collides forcefully into White Housechief of staff, Bob Marquis. At six foot four and 320 pounds, it's an unevenmatch. Stunned, Dr. Koo continues her rush through the door and down thehall to somewhere.

What's the hurry? Bob yells over his shoulder and then turns his attentionback to where he was going, thinking, These dames are gonna drive me nutssomeday.

What's her ... Jesus Christ, what's that! Bob's eyes focus on the naked bodylying stiffly on the bed.

Sit down and shut up, Bob. Meryl's Koo-directed anger has not yetdissipated and is now directed at whoever is in the room.

Bob sits down immediately in the chair by the window, the one farthestaway from the body, averts his eyes, and focuses instead on the bath-robedpresident, his newest boss. This sure as hell isn't one of her damn nightmaresthis time.

The president walks briskly to the door and closes it after checking tosee if Steve is still there. He's looking down the hall in the direction Dr. Koohas just fled.

Bob. Sheryl is dead. I just accused Dr. Koo of killing her, but now I don'tthink so. Meryl's agile brain has in the few moments since Dr. Koo ran intoBob concluded that Krissy had probably deduced the placement and removalof the envelope simply by what she'd seen on the bed and body. Meryl putsoff any thought about what to say to Krissy. There are too many other urgentmatters to deal with.

First, you are not to say anything to anybody about this without my orders.

Second, you aren't to ask anybody any questions about this, including me.

Third, call Dr. María Piedra over at OCME. Tell her to drop her scalpelsand get ready for a body to arrive from the White House. Tell her no excuses aboutbeing too busy. All her patients are dead, so they can wait a little longer in theDC morgue.

Bob interrupts the president with a quizzical look.

No. I don't want anything Federal involved just yet—that includes BethesdaNaval Hospital, the Bureau, nobody. OCME is District. It's got no lines ofcommunication or authority leading anywhere but to the DC mayor's office. Thatjerk will do as he's told and shut up.

Why not Bethesda? Aren't they supposed to be the best?

Bob, you're too young to remember and you never read anything, so youprobably don't know that it was the boys at Bethesda who botched the autopsyof JFK. I have got to know the truth about Sheryl, not some bullshit "scenario"cooked up by the ASS.

Bob nods his understanding, if not agreement. The president does notthink highly of the FBI, CIA, DEA, ATF, and the rest of the Federal lawenforcement goons she refers to as the "Alphabet Soup Squad" or ASS forshort.

Can we trust this Dr. Peedra? She sounds foreign to me.

Bob, Dr. Piedra was born in Boston and was a classmate and very, very goodfriend of mine at Wellesley. So you can trust her with this. She's been the boss at theOffice of the Chief Medical Examiner for, what, ten years, and has examined moredead bodies than Dr. Cyril Wecht, another guy you probably never heard of.

When you call Dr. Piedra, that's Pee-A-drah, tell her that a Secret Serviceagent named Steve will be at the OCME receiving bay in half an hour. Youand Steve wrap the body in that sheet and take it out the tunnel to his car. Nota Service car, his car. I want him locked in as an accessory to all this, not just awitness. Right?

Right, Boss.

Tell him to use his GPS for directions to OCME. There'll be a record of thatdownload if we need it. Tell him to talk to no one except Dr. Piedra. Tell him toremind the doctor to call me when she's finished her preliminary autopsy. Thentell him to come straight back here and report to you in your office in person, noton the phone. I want his movements known by staff. Right?

Right, Boss.

Where was I? Yah. Fourth, Sheryl is going to "disappear" for a while untilI find out whether somebody was trying to kill me or her. No police. Get a storyto the press that Sheryl left the White House last night at 9:00 and didn't arrivehome. You fill in the details and let me see 'em before the release. Right?

Right, Boss.

The only people besides us who know she was here all last night are Steveand Dr. Koo. I'll take care of her. You do one of your famous heavy jobs on Stevewhen he gets back from OCME; tell him he won't ever have any children orgrandchildren if he talks, and then get him the hell out of here. Transfer him toBismarck or Thule, someplace like that. Monitor all his calls and bug his officeand apartment, wherever the hell he ends up. Right?

Right again, Boss.

And fifth, call Tom. Tell him to come here to my room immediately.

Tom Yager?

Who else, for Christ's sake!