Judith beams us her singing nun smile again, squeezes her chubby pink thighs together to squelch her rage.
“We have arranged alternate housing for Ms. Lemonopolous,” Ceepak announces.
“Thank you,” gushes Michael. “I was a little worried. Does she need money? Because I could lend her …”
“Oh no, Michael,” says Judith, sweeter than corn syrup. “You don’t need to do that. It’s a kind and generous offer, but Dad paid Miss Christine a very substantial salary. I’m sure she’ll be fine without the family’s continued assistance.” Judith, who really shouldn’t wear miniskirts, locks her focus on Ceepak. “Do you officers need something else? We have so many preparations to attend to. Our rabbi, Dr. Bronstein, is on his way over to help us make the necessary arrangements.”
“Yes, ma’am,” says Ceepak. “Where is Dr. Rosen’s body?”
“Excuse me?”
“Which funeral home will you be using?”
“Grossman amp; Mehringer. Why?”
“The county medical examiner, at our request, is going to perform a post mortem toxicology screening.”
“What?” this from Michael. “An autopsy?”
Guess he produces cop shows out in Hollywood.
“You’re joking right?”
“No, sir. We want to eliminate even the slightest possibility that your father was poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” says Judith, her smile slipping dangerously close to a sneer. “Dad was ninety-four years old. He passed away in his sleep. Please, officers, allow him to die with a modicum of dignity.”
“Besides,” says David, “doesn’t this ‘county medical examiner’ have more important duties to attend to? It’s Saturday. They’ll get time and a half. That’s why Dad’s property taxes are so high.”
Michael stays mum.
“What if we don’t approve of this autopsy?” says Judith. “Surely, as his family, we have a say in this matter.”
“Actually,” says Ceepak, “in the state of New Jersey the medical examiner autopsy, unlike a hospital autopsy, does not require permission from the next of kin. It is done under statutory authority. Also, it will not delay your funeral arrangements as …”
There is a knock at the front door.
“That’s probably Rabbi Bronstein,” says David. “I’ll let him in.”
David practically runs to the front door. Judith blinks and smiles some more.
“Hello, Rabbi,” David says out in the entryway. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”