Lucky Stiff
““Of course,” he says. “I can’t believe we missed that.”“Missed what?” says a voice behind us.We both turn around to find Izzy standing there. I hand him the report and say, “Why isn’t there any alcohol in Jack’s stomach contents?”Izzy frowns, too; then he gives himself a slap on the side of his head. “Oh, hell,” he says. “I knew something was off when we were doing the autopsy, but I never figured out what it was.”Hurley runs his hand through his hair again, making it stand up like a cockatoo c...omb. “But the alcohol had to get into his system somehow. Could it have moved into the intestines already?”I shake my head. “No, he still had food in his stomach, and that would have delayed emptying to some extent. And with his blood alcohol as high as it was, he had to have consumed a large amount that same morning, just prior to his death.”“Then how did it get into his blood?”Izzy and I exchange a look. “Intravenously?” I pose.Hurley looks askance.MoreLess
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