The Night Season Read Online Free PDF Page B

is the second leading cause of fatalities during floods,” Susan said.
    “We’re not going to get electrocuted,” Robbins insisted. “Power’s shorted out. The emergency lights run on batteries.”
    Archie wondered why so many alarms were going off, if there wasn’t any power.
    Robbins seemed to read his mind. “The alarms all are coming from very expensive equipment that doesn’t like getting unplugged.”
    Susan opened her mouth to ask another question, but then Archie saw her eyes travel to the aluminum pan. She did a double take. “Is that a skull?”
    “Some dog walker found it in West Delta Park,” Robbins said.
    “Oh,” Susan cried in recognition. “I wrote about him.” She bent her knees so her face was level with the skull. “I wrote about you,” she said to the skull.
    Archie had read that column. No, Archie remembered—Henry had read the column to him. Susan had come up with some theory that the dog park skeleton had something to do with the Vanport flood. Henry had been irritated by it.
    But that was not why they were here.
    “Talk to me about Stephanie Towner,” Archie said.
    Robbins jerked his head in Susan’s direction. “You okay with her listening in?”
    Susan had no business being there. If this was actually a homicide investigation, which Archie wasn’t sure it was—if it was just Robbins wanting to show off, then what did it matter? “It’s off the record until I say it isn’t,” Archie told her.
    Susan bounced her chin up and down.
    “You trust her?” Robbins asked dubiously.
    “I do,” Archie said. He surprised himself at how easily he said it.
    Susan beamed. The bleeping of alarms continued all around them. There was a vague smell of decomp in the air. Archie wondered bleakly if it was the water.
    Robbins sighed and shook his head. “This way.” He led them down the green shimmering hallway, past an office where two morgue employees were rescuing a flat-screen TV, and into the autopsy room.
    The water was deeper in there, only a few inches below the top of Archie’s boots. It bubbled and gurgled at four distinct points in the center of the room.
    “Water’s coming up through the floor drains,” Robbins explained.
    Archie had seen what went into those floor drains. He could only imagine what might come back up. “Along with what?”
    “A whole host of biohazards,” Robbins said. “I told you not to touch the water.” He held the skull out in Susan’s direction. “Here, hold this.”
    Susan took the pan. “Where’s the rest of him?” she asked.
    “Around,” Robbins said.
    Susan lifted the skull so she could look him in the eye sockets. “I think I’ll call him Ralph,” she said.
    “I’m glad you made a new friend,” Archie said. “But could we get back to Stephanie Towner?”
    Robbins adjusted his posture, straightening up like he was about to give a lecture. “What do you know about drowning?” he asked. Here we go , thought Archie. Water continued to gurgle up from below the floor.
    “We’re listening,” Archie said.
    Robbins crossed his arms and leaned one shoulder against the morgue cooler. “Stage one is fear. Most people, they don’t flail around and holler. They’re focused on breathing. Stage two, they go under. Take a lungful of water, choke on it, which makes them breathe in more water, which causes their larynx or vocal cords to constrict and seal the airway. That’s called ‘laryngospasm.’ It’s involuntary. Now they’re underwater. Stage three. They’re unconscious and in respiratory arrest.
    “Stage four,” he continued. “Hello, hypoxic convulsions. Some jerking. They start turning blue.”
    Robbins turned to Susan. “You getting all this?”
    “Blue,” she said. “Got it.” She tossed Archie an amused glance. “This is really going to come in handy next time I’m at the pool.”
    She was clearly enjoying antagonizing him. “Continue,” Archie said to Robbins.
    “Stage five. My old friend, clinical death.