Chapter 45

I gripped my reel and tugged. “Rosemary O’Malley, Doctor Weiss. Her maiden name was Adams. Press said she committed suicide. I believe it was a murder, then a cover-up,” I told him. “Do you remember doing the autopsy?”

The smile remained frozen on his face, but behind it I could see something else. There was a momentarily flicker in his eyes, as if a flashbulb had gone off. He seemed to think it over. He nervously straightened his tie. His hand trembled. My hook had sunk into someplace deep.

“No, Mister Onassis,” he eventually said. “I’m sorry. I don’t recall such a person.” He moved to go around me, to break my line. “I’ve done a lot of autopsies over the years,” he told me as he brushed by. “Like I said, I’m sorry I can’t be of help with your investigation.” He reached his car. My line had snapped in two. He turned to me one last time. The smile was still there. So was the pain. “Sometimes these things are best to leave in the past, Mister Onassis.”