“What is it?” Darlene asked. She reached out and pulled Raymond’s hand away from his mouth.

Raymond quickly explained about the upcoming autopsy on Carlo Franconi and repeated Taylor Cabot’s threat to scrap the entire enterprise.

“But it’s finally making big money,” Darlene said. “He won’t scrap it.”

Raymond gave a short, mirthless laugh. “It isn’t big money to someone like Taylor Cabot and GenSys,” he said. “He’d scrap it for certain. Hell, it was difficult to talk him into it in the first place.”

“Then you have to tell them not to do the autopsy,” Darlene said.

Raymond stared at his companion. He knew she meant well, and he’d never been attracted to her for her brain power. So he resisted lashing out. But his reply was sarcastic: “You think I can just call up the medical examiner’s office and tell them not to do an autopsy on such a case? Give me a break!”

“But you know a lot of important people,” Darlene persisted. “Ask them to call.”

“Please, dear…” Raymond said condescendingly, but then he paused. He began to think that unwittingly Darlene had a point. An idea began to germinate.

“What about Dr. Levitz?” Darlene said. “He was Mr. Franconi’s doctor. Maybe he could help.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Raymond said. Dr. Daniel Levitz was a Park Avenue physician with a big office, high overhead, and a dwindling patient base, thanks to managed care. He’d been easy to recruit and had been one of the first doctors to join the venture. On top of that, he’d brought in many clients, some of them in the same business as Carlo Franconi.

Raymond stood up, extracted his wallet, and plopped three crisp one-hundred-dollar bills on the table. He knew that was more than enough for the tab and a generous tip. “Come on,” he said. “We’ve got to make a house call.”