Checkmate (Caitlin Calloway Mystery Book 2) (40 page)

“You did good,” Stella said once they were alone. “He’s going to be okay.”

“I hope so. You never know with head injuries. Stella, is God in town?”

“Yes. Not only is he in town, he might still be in his office. Why?”

“I need the mother of all favors.”

“I’ll call him.”

“You have his direct line?”

“Oh, yeah.” Stella grinned and picked up the extension that was mounted on the wall. “Dr. Bradford, this is Stella. I’m good, and you? Look, Dr. Jameson needs a moment of your time.” Stella smiled as she listened. “Good, I’ll let her know.” She hung up. “He’s on his way down,” Stella brightly said to a very stunned Jamie.

“I could have gone to him.” Jamie gasped.

“He said he was on his way out to a dinner engagement and he’ll meet you in your office. You better hurry. For an old fart, he can move pretty quickly.”

Jamie darted out the back way and straight to her office. Stella wasn’t kidding. Seated at her desk was Dr. Hamilton Winthrop Bradford. At Boylston General, and all of the partner hospitals, which covered most of the state, he was the man in charge. One word from him, and your career soared. On the other hand, if you crossed him, chances were you’d never practice medicine in the United States, Canada, United Kingdom, and most of Europe. In the world of health care, this Mayflower descendant was indeed God.

“Sir,” Jamie nervously began to say.

“Jamie, cut the ‘sir’ crap.” The silver-haired gentleman waved her off. “I feel old enough.”

“I need a favor.” Her heart suddenly pounded with fear. She didn’t take offense when he motioned for her to sit in the chair in front of her desk. After all she was the one who had requested an audience.

“As long as you’re not quitting, you can have a kidney if you need it,” he said with a hearty laugh. “You must know how much we need you right now.” He held up his hand before she could object to his statement. “Trust me. I’ve more than enough people informing me who the person is that’s keeping the ER running like a well-oiled machine. I also know who is a useless sack of poo just hanging around trying to further his career. Just let me make a quick call, before we go any further.”

Jamie nodded in agreement. On the inside her heart was racing.

“Deval? It’s Hamilton.” He smiled brightly as Jamie felt her stomach clench. “I’m going to be a little late for dinner.” He rolled his eyes as he listened. “I know, but as you know, the business of health care is not a nine-to-five job. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He seemed to be gloating as he wrapped up the conversation.

“I’m so sorry,” Jamie said fearfully. “I wasn’t aware that you were meeting with the governor.”

“He’ll wait. Now what can I do for you?”

“I have a patient, a police officer with a head injury. There’s a chance that his case is connected to an ongoing investigation. In fact, it might be connected to what happened to Jack, I mean Dr. Temple.”

“Pull up the file.” He stood so she could access her computer.

“I’d like to put Detective Samuels in a secure location where he can be given the medical treatment he needs. But I also would like to keep him safe.”

Jamie’s hands were shaking while she typed in the information that brought up Max’s file. If Dr. Bradford was annoyed by her request, it didn’t show. He simply reviewed the file. Then he closed it and reopened it, using his own password. Jamie stepped out of the way. She didn’t have the nerve to ask what he was doing. She simply returned to her place in front of the desk. Unconsciously, she began to tap her foot while Bradford picked up the telephone.

“Martin? It’s Bradford,” he said in a stern tone that sent a shiver down Jamie’s spine. “I need a bed on PH22. No access except medical personnel and the police.”

“His wife?” Jamie was still reeling from what she was hearing.

“And his wife,” Bradford added. “Zuckerman will be his attending. How quickly can you make this happen? He’s down having a cat scan right now.” Bradford typed away on the computer before shutting it down. “Good. I just sent you the file. Dr. Jameson from emergency will be up with him ASAP.” He didn’t stop there. As soon as the call was over he was already dialing a second number. “Bruce, it’s Hamilton. I just assigned you a new patient. I sent you the file. He’ll be in Phillips House, twenty-two. I expect you to check on him as soon as possible.” He didn’t bother to wait for an answer, he just hung up. “That should about do it.”

“More than I had expected.” Jamie gaped at the man who simply oozed power. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“No need.” He shrugged as if he had bought her a cup of coffee, not moved mountains to ensure Max’s safety and good health. “Did you know that Detective Samuels and your wife solved the murder of Whitney Cabot about fifteen years ago?”

“I’m not familiar with that case.”

“I am.” He stood while straightening his jacket. He bent over to scribble something on a note pad. “This is the name Detective Samuels is listed under.”

Jamie accepted the slip of paper and almost burst out laughing. She stuffed the slip of paper into her pocket.

“My grandson is at that age. It is just about the only thing he says,” Bradford said with a wry smile. “Good luck, Dr. Jameson. I’m off to give the governor an earful.”

As soon as Max was back, Jamie informed her team that his file had been red-flagged, which meant they were not to discuss his treatment with anyone. She stressed the point again before grabbing Alvarez and Stella. The three of them used the back elevators to wheel Max upstairs. Phillips House consisted of three floors where dignitaries, rock stars, and other people who commanded privacy were treated. Most were listed under fictitious names. To enter the unit you had to be buzzed in after being viewed on camera. Jamie slid in her key card then buzzed.

“Dr. Jameson with Seymour Butts.”

No one answered verbally, the buzzer simply buzzed and the three of them scurried to get Max inside. “Dr. Jameson, Dr. Zuckerman is waiting right this way.” A middle-aged nurse with a no-nonsense attitude led her through the pristine hallway. They guided Max into a room with a large plasma television, mini fridge, large comfortable bed, desk, and a comfy sofa for visitors. With the assistance of the floor nurse, they skillfully moved Max into his bed.

“Dr. Jameson.” Dr. Zuckerman didn’t bother to offer his hand.

“I have Mr. Butts’s file, including his X-rays and the scan. Is there anything you need to add to the information?”

“No. I’ll be returning soon with his wife.”

“Very well. That should give me time to examine him,” Zuckerman said. “What’s his real first name? If he wakes up, I’d like to perform some standard tests.”

“Max.”

Dr. Zuckerman nodded and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. The trio left the unit as quickly as possible.

“That place is nicer than my apartment,” Alvarez said. “I never knew it existed.”

“The three floors that make up Phillips House are very restricted. You need the right last name or an Academy Award to get in.” Jamie carefully explained.

“So, how did you…”

“I asked for a very big favor. Remember, you can’t talk about this,” Jamie said. They exited the elevator. “Thank you, Alvarez. Go home, it’s getting late.” Alvarez hurried away. “Thank you, Stella. I’ve always known that you were the one who is really in charge, but to have God on speed dial, now that is impressive.”

“Oh, please. Ham? I’ve known him since he was a wet-behind the ears intern.”

“You lead such an exciting life,” Jamie teased. She left Stella and went in search of CC and Shirley.

Spotting her wife was easy. CC stood out among the crowd in the waiting area. She seemed to be in a very animated conversation with the police captain and an older pot-bellied man who was obviously a cop. The tacky necktie and cheap suit jacket gave him away.

“Shirley?” She approached Max’s wife and tenderly offered her arm. “He’s going to be okay. He’s up in a secure room.” The poorly dressed detective stomped over and flashed his badge. Jamie ignored his intrusion and continued speaking to Shirley. She nodded to CC and the captain when they sauntered over. “The doctor assigned to his case is the best.” Once again, Mr. Bad Suit flashed his badge. Again, she ignored him. “I’ll take you upstairs,” she said to Shirley.

“Hold on.” The pushy man flashed his badge again.

“Yes, it’s very shiny. Thank you for showing it to me,” Jamie said curtly. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’m taking Mrs. Sampson to see her husband.”

“I don’t think—”

“That’s more than apparent,” Jamie cut him off. “I’ll be back. You can have a seat.”

“I’m going with you,” he said, working Jamie’s last nerve.

“Are you a relative?” Jamie asked, pleased when his jaw dropped. “I didn’t think so. I suggest you find something to occupy yourself until I return.”

“This is a police matter.”

“This is a medical matter. I will call security and have you removed.”

“She’ll do it, too,” CC said bluntly.

“Who do you think you are?” Detective Whiney asked.

“At this moment, I’m the acting head of emergency medicine at this hospital and one of Detective Sampson’s physicians.”

Jamie didn’t bother to stick around. Her only concern was for Shirley and Max. Shirley was trembling until Jamie informed her of the alias Max had been assigned. Then she wailed with laughter. Once inside, Jamie translated Dr. Zuckerman’s diagnosis for Shirley that boiled down to mean Max was going to be just fine, but they needed to keep an eye on him.

*   *  *

“If you think you’re going to cover this up, you have another think coming. Understand, Calloway?”

“I understand that you’re acting like a jackass.” She sneered.

“What’s with that doctor? I need to talk to Sampson, and I need to do it now.”

“I wouldn’t push Dr. Jameson’s buttons, Palmucci,” the captain informed him. “Just simmer down and wait. We’ve offered you full access to our files and lab.”

“I’m telling you, those drugs are going to match the stuff we found in Billy Ryan’s room,” CC tried explaining for what seemed like the one hundredth time. “All I’m asking is that you tell the press you found an unidentified body at The Ballard.”

“I won’t be part of a cover-up. Your partner was found with drugs in his pocket. How do I know he didn’t take them from your crime scene?”

CC was exasperated. She had already spelled out everything for Palmucci over and over again. “There’s no cover-up. Investigate to your heart’s content. I’m just asking you to list Max as a John Doe. Trust me, someone is going to call in and tell you who he is. In the meantime, he stays here and gets medical treatment. I’ll bet you fifty bucks that not only do you get the call, but the drugs are a match and we won’t be missing a single gram.”

“Fifty? You have a lot of faith in your partner. I can’t help wondering if you’re in it just as deep as he is.” His superior tone was working her nerves.

“I’m telling you it has to do with this case we fell into. Max Sampson is clean. Hell, he’s getting short. Why risk everything to start dealing?” She tried once again to get through to him.

“Maybe that was the incentive. You did say that he’s shopping for a boat.”

“Yeah, Max is dirty. That’s why he’s driving a Buick that’s almost two decades old.” She threw her hands up in frustration.

“Found his car.” Palmucci sucked air through his teeth. CC hated when people did that. It was not only annoying, it was disgusting to boot.

“And?” the captain said.

“Suffolk Downs.” Palmucci snickered. “Probably where he set up the deal.”

“Or where the killer hid it,” CC said. “The track is a perfect hiding place, and it’s in Boston.”

“Yeah?” Palmucci scratched his head, clearly confused. “It’s not far from the scene. He could have walked.”

“Really? It’s what… four, five miles maybe more down the highway? There’s no way Max could have managed without stroking out.” CC doubted that Palmucci would fare better. “As for Max’s car, Boston PD will tow it to our garage, not yours.”

“I knew it. A cover-up.” He shouted startling everyone in the waiting area.

“You know diddly squat,” CC said just as Jamie returned. “How is he?”

“At the moment, he’s resting comfortably,” Jamie said in a cool, professional tone. CC cringed when Palmucci again shoved his badge in Jamie’s face. “Yes, I’ve seen it. Your mother must be very proud.” Jamie brushed his gold shield aside. “Given the situation, he’s been placed in a secure location under a pseudonym.”

“What?” Palmucci was, indeed, a clueless wonder.

“Single room, fake name,” CC slowly spelled out for him. “We need to put an officer outside his room.”

“I figured as much,” Jamie said. “You need to have them checked in by someone on the list, which is limited to me, Shirley, and his doctors.”

“Fine. I’ll have one of my men over in a minute.” Palmucci glared at CC.

“Fine by me.” CC was pleased when he looked surprised.

“Now, Detective…” Jamie said to Palmucci.

“Palmucci.”

“Palmucci,” she repeated clearly annoyed. “Detective Sampson has suffered a serious head injury. He didn’t say anything relevant other than knowing his name and his wife’s name. Just the basic stuff. I asked him what happened, and he has no idea. Short-term memory loss isn’t uncommon in these situations. Get your officer here, and I’ll escort him up to the detective’s room.”

“I’ll see him now.” Palmucci announced giving his belt a jerk as if he had just won something.

“No.”

“What?”

CC held back a snicker as she watched Palmucci’s face turn beet red. Palmucci was basically a good cop, but when he got something stuck in his head, it stayed there. The guy had the bad habit of developing tunnel vision. It had cost him dearly over the years. He lost some big cases, and his family, for nothing more than being pigheaded. Jamie just stood there, not flinching no matter how hard Palmucci tried to intimidate her. CC couldn’t have been prouder.

“If you need anything else, you can contact Detective Sampson’s physicians, Dr. Hamilton Bradford and Dr. Bruce Zuckerman.” Having had her say, Jamie spun around and walked off.

“Oh, I’ll be contacting them alright,” Palmucci said. “That bitch has no idea who she’s dealing with.”