just didn’t want to see people exploited, that’s all—we didn’t want the suffering sensationalized. But the media—hey, they’re just people like everybody else: There’s good ones and there’s bad ones. Some of those vultures would film the autopsies if we’d let them.
“The point is, now there’s going to be a camera on every corner, watching everything we do. Whatever the camera sees, America sees—and Americans need to see us making every possible attempt to save the living. That’s the test we have to pass here, Nick. Nobody’s going to be satisfied if all we’ve learned to do since 9/11 is collect the dead more efficiently. We’ve got to show people that we’ve learned to protect the living.”
Nick shook his head. “In a few days the bodies of the hurricane victims will reach a stage of decomposition known as floating decay . That’s what Americans will see then: decaying bodies floating everywhere, because we’ve made no attempt to recover them.”
“Fair enough,” Denny said. “But right now, we want them to see rescue boats filled with grateful survivors. No bodies—not yet.”
“How long will this policy remain in effect? When will we be able to start recovering the bodies?”
“The Corps of Engineers says 80 percent of the city is underwater. There are six thousand homes in your neighborhood alone; in St. Bernard Parish next door, there are forty thousand more. You tell me.”
Nick took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The guy was murdered, Denny. I feel it in my gut. I can smell it.”
“You might be right. It’s a definite possibility.”
“And you’re willing to let that go?”
“No—but I’m willing to place other priorities ahead of it.”
“So we just let a murderer walk away.”
“We’re not here to solve the crime problem in New Orleans, Nick. Like you said, they’ve got one of the highest murder rates in the U.S. They’re going to have to take care of that themselves.”
“They can’t do it without evidence,” Nick said. “The way we’re going, there won’t be any.”
“I hope you’re wrong about that. But for now, we have to let it go.”
“That goes against everything in me.”
“And when you disobey my direct orders, that goes against everything in me. I told you before, Nick, I need you to play ball this time. If the coach shows you the bunt sign, you better bunt. I don’t care if the all-time home-run title is on the line— you bunt . You do it for the good of the team, and you do it because he’s the coach—that’s the bottom line here. Are we clear about this?”
“Right, Coach.”
“I’m not kidding around.”
“I get it, Denny, I get it.”
Nick stopped in the doorway on the way out. “What happens to the body I brought back today?”
“You know the process. We’ll do our best to identify it.”
“And the blowfly larvae I collected?”
“That’s none of your business. You’re doing search and rescue, remember?”
Nick reluctantly nodded. “I heard the mayor’s casualty estimate on the way back up here. He figures between two and ten thousand victims. Ten thousand victims . . . it makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
“What?”
“How many of them might have been murdered.”
“Get some sleep, Nick.”
Nick stepped out of the warehouse and into the darkness. It was almost midnight now; he stopped for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the light. Across the parking lot, he could hear the low rumble of the tractor trailers all lined up and waiting to transport the dead—instead, they were little more than minimotels. Like the man said , he thought, first the living . At least the air-conditioning would feel good tonight.
“How’d it go in there?”
Nick turned to find Beth Woodbridge standing behind him.
“I have to stay after school,” Nick said.
“You’ve had worse.”
“I forgot—you keep the school records.”
“Mind if I walk with you?”
“Well, I can’t outrun
“The point is, now there’s going to be a camera on every corner, watching everything we do. Whatever the camera sees, America sees—and Americans need to see us making every possible attempt to save the living. That’s the test we have to pass here, Nick. Nobody’s going to be satisfied if all we’ve learned to do since 9/11 is collect the dead more efficiently. We’ve got to show people that we’ve learned to protect the living.”
Nick shook his head. “In a few days the bodies of the hurricane victims will reach a stage of decomposition known as floating decay . That’s what Americans will see then: decaying bodies floating everywhere, because we’ve made no attempt to recover them.”
“Fair enough,” Denny said. “But right now, we want them to see rescue boats filled with grateful survivors. No bodies—not yet.”
“How long will this policy remain in effect? When will we be able to start recovering the bodies?”
“The Corps of Engineers says 80 percent of the city is underwater. There are six thousand homes in your neighborhood alone; in St. Bernard Parish next door, there are forty thousand more. You tell me.”
Nick took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The guy was murdered, Denny. I feel it in my gut. I can smell it.”
“You might be right. It’s a definite possibility.”
“And you’re willing to let that go?”
“No—but I’m willing to place other priorities ahead of it.”
“So we just let a murderer walk away.”
“We’re not here to solve the crime problem in New Orleans, Nick. Like you said, they’ve got one of the highest murder rates in the U.S. They’re going to have to take care of that themselves.”
“They can’t do it without evidence,” Nick said. “The way we’re going, there won’t be any.”
“I hope you’re wrong about that. But for now, we have to let it go.”
“That goes against everything in me.”
“And when you disobey my direct orders, that goes against everything in me. I told you before, Nick, I need you to play ball this time. If the coach shows you the bunt sign, you better bunt. I don’t care if the all-time home-run title is on the line— you bunt . You do it for the good of the team, and you do it because he’s the coach—that’s the bottom line here. Are we clear about this?”
“Right, Coach.”
“I’m not kidding around.”
“I get it, Denny, I get it.”
Nick stopped in the doorway on the way out. “What happens to the body I brought back today?”
“You know the process. We’ll do our best to identify it.”
“And the blowfly larvae I collected?”
“That’s none of your business. You’re doing search and rescue, remember?”
Nick reluctantly nodded. “I heard the mayor’s casualty estimate on the way back up here. He figures between two and ten thousand victims. Ten thousand victims . . . it makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
“What?”
“How many of them might have been murdered.”
“Get some sleep, Nick.”
Nick stepped out of the warehouse and into the darkness. It was almost midnight now; he stopped for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the light. Across the parking lot, he could hear the low rumble of the tractor trailers all lined up and waiting to transport the dead—instead, they were little more than minimotels. Like the man said , he thought, first the living . At least the air-conditioning would feel good tonight.
“How’d it go in there?”
Nick turned to find Beth Woodbridge standing behind him.
“I have to stay after school,” Nick said.
“You’ve had worse.”
“I forgot—you keep the school records.”
“Mind if I walk with you?”
“Well, I can’t outrun
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