Authors: LS Sygnet
Tags: #mystery, #deception, #vendetta, #cold case, #psychiatric hospital, #attempted murder, #distrust
"So that's what the warrant was for?"
I nodded and winced when the laceration
tugged open by the displacement of blood caked hair.
"You should've let the doctor take a look at
that cut."
"It's fine. A bag of ice and a couple
of aspirin and I'll be good as new."
"What really happened at the hospital,
Helen?"
I filled her in with the Cliffs Notes
version. "I have no idea how long I was unconscious, but if
Johnny followed me out there, it couldn't have been very long."
"He should've waited until backup arrived,
Helen. You didn't make him charge in there alone, you
know."
"At least he had the common sense to call
for it."
"But if he waited, Southerby's guys wouldn't
have got the jump on him. He wouldn't have been
tortured. He knew what area of the hospital the warrant was
for after he realized what you were doing. This wasn't
entirely your fault."
I sniffled and swiped at the burning creases
of my nose. "He couldn't wait. Not knowing that Mike
the sadist locked me in the basement. I know him, Maya.
He was out of his mind worried that I was already dead, and that's
why he ignored his training and tried to save me."
"I won't dispute that. If your
positions were reversed, would you have done anything
differently?"
"No," I muttered.
"Tony is angry. He'll get over
it."
The way my day was going, the least of my
concerns were Tony Briscoe's feelings about anything.
"Tell me more about this succinylcholine
link to Dunhaven."
"It was something Riley Storm said to me
when I interviewed him earlier tonight. He shut up in a hurry
when I asked him where Mitch Southerby was buried – makes sense
now, since the guy didn't die like we thought he did. I'm
sure Storm figured he called my bluff. He told me if I wanted
answers, I'd have to go dig for them at Dunhaven. At first I
thought he was suggesting that I try to drag the truth out of Lowe,
but he was more cryptic than that. I know Lowe warned him
that I wanted to talk to him. That dig business sort of
nagged at me."
"So you did what? There had to be
compelling evidence or Zack wouldn't have been able to get the
search warrant."
I nodded. "I did a little research
into Dunhaven on Crevan's computer at division. It jumped out
at me. Part of the basement was converted to a hospital
pharmacy in the 1950s. The website talked about the continued
use of ECT in severe cases. It clicked in my head, you
know? Conscious sedation. Lowe's mother spent more time
at Dunhaven because of mental illness than she did raising
him. He would've known about her treatment. Storm
already admitted to me that he helped Lowe get the
succinylcholine. I figured if I could link the drugs at
Dunhaven to Lowe or Storm, it might give me the leverage I needed
to get one of them to admit that Datello was behind all of this
with Harry McNamara, Lowe's advancement at central, and David
Ireland's murder."
"Do you still have the warrant?"
I shook my head. "It was in my purse,
and I gave it to Mike when I arrived. He kept it."
"But it's still on file with the court,"
Maya said, "and you legally served it. We might be able to
get your leverage after all. I'll go through the pharmacy
when we get there. At the very least, I should be able to
collect vials of the succinylcholine they've got and compare the
lot numbers to what you and Johnny found in Lowe's trailer."
"I doubt any of these guys will talk,
Maya. They're more afraid of Datello than they are
prison. Southerby came right out and admitted that Datello
has been pulling the strings all along. It's his word against
mine, and I'm afraid my history in this city, the lies I've told,
would be a defense attorney's dream come true when it comes to
impeaching my testimony."
"Surely not. The police are allowed to
use deception –"
"With suspects," I said. "Not with
each other."
Maya pulled into the parking lot at Dunhaven
and flashed her badge for entry. It wasn't necessary.
We were recognized on sight. In the basement, Maya made her
way to the pharmacy while I looked for Devlin and Ned.
Billy Withers was about to remove Mike's
body from the treatment room. He glanced at me with a wounded
expression.
I moved to where he crouched over the body
and laid my hand on his shoulder. "I never believed it for a
second, Billy. And I never let Riley Storm think I believed
it either."
"Promise me you'll get them, Dr.
Eriksson. Promise me that you'll get them all for what
they've done."
"You have my word. I'll never give
up."
Devlin moved to my side and gave the gash on
my head the once over. "You didn't let them look at that, did
you?"
"Does it really look that bad?"
"If you could see the back of your head all
the way down to the middle of your ruined sweater, you'd understand
why we're concerned. How's Orion?"
"Sedated," I said. "The doctor thinks
he'll be fine, thank God."
Ned was a little less friendly, and I
supposed it could be a generational thing he and Briscoe
shared. Either that or my new enemy had called to issue dire
warnings about how I'd gone pit bull – off the chain, out of the
yard, down the street – at the hospital.
"What happened out here, Helen?"
I related everything I knew, from the trip
down the stairs to the bash over my head, to waking without a clue
where I was or what was happening.
Ned jerked his head at the open door, one of
many along the wall of the treatment room. "It's based on a
medieval thing," he said. "Back in the dark ages, they used
to lock folks up in those tiny little boxes, dropped them down into
them from above, if memory serves. If they weren't crazy when
they went in, they sure as heck were when they came out."
A bit of trivia tickled the
periphery of my consciousness. "An
oubliette
," I said. "It's
French and literally means
forgotten
place
."
Dev shook his head. "What kind of sick
sadistic –"
"They've been used at some point," I
said. "I felt scratches in the wood made by
fingernails. This hospital is a nightmare. I can't for
the life of me figure out how Mitch Southerby ended up running the
place. Has he been here since his alleged death?"
"I doubt it," Ned said. "There
would've been too much risk that he'd be recognized by cops or some
citizen with a good memory. The guy's face was all over the
news after his arrest and alleged death."
"The disk is real," I said. "It's what
he wanted from me tonight. It's what he tried to torture out
of Johnny."
"But we're not any closer to finding out why
he's back in town, or why Datello is worried about evidence against
him after all these years."
I tried to will the throbbing pain from my
head by rubbing my temples. "I think I'm gonna be ill."
Devlin cupped my elbow and led me out of the
treatment room. "You should be in the hospital, Helen.
You've probably got a concussion. We took a gun off Carl
Merchant. It had blood and hair on the butt of it. I
suspect he clocked you pretty hard."
"Knocked me out, that's for sure."
"Let me take you back to the hospital."
"No," I said with finality. "I have to
keep working the case. We have to find the answers. We
have to find some kind of evidence that links all of this to
Datello. The confession Southerby made to me while he
outlined how I would die won't hold up in court. I was the
only one who heard it. At least the only one who would
testify that he said it. I'm sure Painless Carl won't have a
damn thing to say even if we offered him immunity."
Ned joined us again. "I need to know
why you came here, Helen. What did you think you would
find?"
I explained the drug link that would
incriminate Lowe and Storm as partners in the death of
McNamara. "I know it's pretty thin, but I figured if the
pharmacy kept records of prescriptions –"
"In a way it makes sense," Ned said.
"In a rather desperate way. We need to get back to Downey and
read these guys their rights. I know Southerby already
invoked his right to counsel, but Carl hasn't. Maybe he'll
tell us something."
"I'm gonna retrace my steps back to that
stairwell," I said. "Unless one of you recovered my cell
phone already."
"I'll go with her," Devlin said.
My hackles rose. "Because I'm not capable of
doing it without being watched?"
"No, because you got beat over the head, and
I don't want a giant rat finding you passed out and finishing what
Southerby started."
My eyes darted around the damp basement
dungeon, and I took an involuntary step toward Mackenzie.
Ned laughed softly. "She chases down
armed assassins without backup, but the idea of rodents makes her
behave. You're somethin' else, Helen."
An hour later, Devlin and I found my iPhone
and determined that its case was more waterproof than I would've
ever imagined. I wiped the mud off the screen and stuffed it
into the handbag Ned found on the floor in the treatment room.
"Sure wish you'd go to the hospital,
Helen. Johnny could wake up any time," Ned said.
"Have you heard something?"
"Shelly called. Sounds like they've
moved the party from Hennessey over to University Hospital.
He's still snoring like a baby, but Crevan talked to her about your
demands."
"And?"
"She's good with it for now, but she said
she needs to talk to you as soon as you have time for a break."
I was determined that wouldn't happen until
I had what I needed to arrest Datello, but wisely didn't tell
Ned. I cleared my throat. "I'm heading over to the
morgue. I'd like to talk to Maya about the drugs she took
into evidence."
"Where to after that, and what time can we
expect to hear from you?"
I realized that Ned was parroting Shelly,
who was little more than the mouthpiece of Tony Briscoe.
"Back to division," I said. "I shouldn't be long at the
morgue, and I'd like to take a run at Painless Carl."
"By take a run, you mean what exactly?"
Briscoe had a big mouth. I felt
compelled to make good on my threat several months ago and slit his
sack and staple it to his lower lip. "Question him,
Ned. In the heat of the moment, I probably did look like I
could've killed Southerby. I love Johnny. Can you blame
me for getting emotional after what they did to him tonight?"
Ned grinned. "'Bout damn time you
realized it. Get out of here, Helen. We'll take things
slow with Carl so you get your crack at him."
The bits of the case swirled into a confused
jumble in my head as I drove from Fielding through Darkwater proper
to the west edge of Downey where Maya was hopefully about to give
me good news on the lot number of the succinylcholine. Even
if the best that came of this night of horrors was another nail in
Lowe's coffin, I'd take it. It was better than going
bust.
I couldn't fathom why Datello would choose
this specific time to resurrect the search for evidence that had
never been found sixteen years ago. David Levine's message
mingled in with everything else. Sully Marcos wouldn't be
around to protect Danny if the worst came to fruition. Why
would Danny turn to a man he had virtually shunned for twenty plus
years?
David's disk. Isabella's paranoia
seemed like it was rooted in reality, in one that had terrified her
so much that her mind was now trapped reliving the memory. I
thought of nurse Brenda, and her description of the silver haired
man who claimed to be Isabella's spouse. For three years, he
was checking on her condition. I wondered if I showed Brenda
a photograph of Mitch Southerby if the identity of the impostor
husband would be known.
Her admonishment to honor
my father echoed in my ringing ears.
Dad, I wish you were here. You'd know how to scare the
truth out of these men. Maybe you'd take Datello out of the
equation for me, and put an end to this before anyone else gets
hurt.
Johnny's anguished cries were on a
continuous loop in my ears, a nightmarish background noise I feared
would never abate. Would he tell me to leave? Had I
crossed the line for the last time? What if he couldn't
remember the past few days, or that I told him I love him?
He'd probably remember all the nasty lies and manipulations and
never believe me if I said it again.
Journey Ireland was still tucked safely away
in my home, still ignorant to the secrets locked inside her
head. I wanted her to remember. I needed her to open
her mouth and show the courage of her parents and say the
words. It sure would make life easier at this point.
What had Southerby said to her that scared her into silence?
David's disk.
David's disk.
It kept coming back to
that, to the elusive evidence everyone believed existed but no one
could find. And what about my David? After my first and
hopefully last encounter with Mitch Southerby, I had a hard time
imagining a crisis of conscience that would ever prompt Southerby
to rat out the boss. Did the FBI have all their facts
wrong?
I parked in front of the morgue and dragged
wearily into the lobby. Security gave me an aghast
stare. I was no doubt a sight to behold, bloody and battered
from my night in the psych hospital. Jason opened the secured
doors to the interior of the morgue for me.
"Shouldn't you be at the hospital, Dr.
Eriksson? You're bleeding all over the place."
"I'm fine," I insisted. "Where's
Maya?"
"Billy's lab. She asked that I send
you straight back if you showed up."