Forgotten Place (42 page)

I pushed the double doors open and stepped
inside.

Maya grinned at me.  "Finally, you're
here.  I think we've got some good news."

Chapter 37

I sagged against the countertop.  "Tell
me.  God knows, I need good news in the worst way right
now."

"Did something happen with Johnny?"

How many ways could I
possibly convey the guilt I felt?  Even if Johnny's prognosis
was storybook perfect, he woke up asking for me, and accepted my
apology and told me it didn't matter, I would still feel wracked
with guilt over my stupid and impulsive actions. 
This is precisely why I'm better off
alone.

"Johnny is fine as far as I know. 
Sleeping off a huge dose of lorazepam.  Tell me what this
great news is."

"Lowe's batch of succinylcholine matched the
current one in use at Dunhaven.  Apparently, they don't do a
ton of conscious sedation.  I called the pharmacist out there,
and you'll never guess what."

"Riley Storm wrote the script and Lowe
picked it up."

"Nope."

My ears perked.  "Then who?"

"Riley wrote the script, and Administrator
Sykes picked it up.  It was apparently issued under the guise
of demand at Riley's new medical clinic, an outpatient organization
that treats something called major depressive disorder, which the
pharmacist out there says is a persistent form of depression
lasting years that is typically unresponsive to traditional
medication therapy."

I knew what it was.  "These folks are
the candidates for electroconvulsive therapy."

"Guess what else this gal said?"

"Riley's had his clinic for longer than he's
been retired from the ME's office?"

"Clever girl," Maya chuckled.  "Our
happy little drug dispenser says that she's been at Dunhaven for
nearly twenty-five years, and for at least the last ten, Riley's
notoriously unreliable supplier could be counted upon to leave him
short a vial of succinylcholine at least once a year.  Since
he had the proper DEA license, and always faxed his emergent
request to have the drug filled on this non-existent clinic's
letterhead, she never gave it a second thought."

"And Southerby aka Sykes always delivered
it?"

"Ah, we are twin brains,
Helen.  I asked her the same thing.  She said no, that
the last time it was ordered by Riley was late
September. 
After
Lowe was committed to Dunhaven."

"Wait a minute.  His competency hearing
was in October."

"Yep."

"He thought he was going to get out of jail
free, that he'd be back in business in no time at all."

"So it would appear.  The pharmacist
apparently used to ship the drug to the address on Riley's
letterhead."

"Tell me the news gets better, not that I'm
upset about this news. Storm can be charged as an accessory to
Lowe's other crimes even if only to give us more leverage."

"They were shipped to his home address, but
it certainly puts Storm and Lowe in bed together, Helen.  Get
this.  According to my new pal, not many people liked
Administrator Sykes."

"How long have they known him?"  I felt
breath hang in my lungs.

"He arrived exactly one week after Jerry
Lowe."

"And the previous administrator?"

"He abruptly resigned without notice," Maya
said.  "Did I do good, cupcake?"

"Minus the cupcake, you did great.  Now
if only I can find something that links Datello to all of this, I
can hop on a flight to Hawaii and arrest public enemy number one
for murder."

"It'll happen, Helen.  Try to be
patient and remember that a lot of people have been working this
case for more than a decade.  Be careful.  Datello has no
respect for anyone.  He'd dishonor anybody who got in his way,
including his sainted wife I'm sure."

Honor the
father.
  The newspaper clippings
jumped to my forebrain along with the cryptic code, EX2012. 
"Oh no.  It can't be that simple, can it?  Surely
not..."

"What can't be that simple?  Helen, I
swear if you run off again without –"

I tuned her out and rushed to the computer
on Billy's desk.  A few keystrokes later, and I found what I
needed, the elusive code that had stumped me and promised to unlock
the case.  "Gotta get to Downey," I said as I rushed past
her.  I didn't care if she saw what her innocent commentary
sparked.  I glimpsed her staring at the computer before the
door swung shut behind me.

The screen said it
all:  Exodus 20:12. 
Honor thy
father and thy mother, that thy days may be long upon the land
which the lord thy God giveth thee.

Isabella kept saying it.  Those were
the only words she could still form in her advanced Pick's
disease.  David Ireland had left the biblical reference
smattered all over old clippings about the death of Danny's
father. 

David's theory washed away all doubt. 
The fog lifted and everything made sense to me.  Well, almost
everything.  I still didn't understand how an ADA dealing with
fraud cases had stumbled upon Datello's revenge on the man he
blamed for his father's murder.  Oddly, I couldn't fault his
loyalty to Antonio Datello.  I'd do the same for my
father. 

The irony was, in seeking vengeance against
Uncle Sully for Danny's murdered father, he had orphaned another
child the same way he had been. I ignored the niggling doubt, the
one that tried to tell me something about that didn't seem to
fit.

"Journey
must
hold the key," I
murmured.  "I know it's locked up in that brain of
hers."

Bay County Medical Examiner's Office was
less than three miles from Downey Division.  I took the stairs
up to the second floor where the homicide murder room was located
two at a time.  The frailty that plagued me a short week ago
was gone.  Adrenalin was my drug of choice.

I ran through the squad room and about
flattened Ned in the hallway outside the interview rooms. 
"Where's Painless Carl?"

"Who?"

I didn't remember his surname.  I'd
heard it once at the crime scene.  His threats on the other
hand, rooted in a twisted nickname, would haunt me for years, I was
certain.  "Painless Carl, Painless Carl who whacked me over
the head with his gun.  Where is he?"

"Interview three.  Dev's in there with
him right now.  He's reading his rights."

I flew through the door.  Ned was right
behind me. 

No time to waste.  I charged the warped
mental health worker and grabbed two fistfuls of scrub top and
yanked him out of the chair.  He sailed across the room and
hit the wall in the corner.  Carl shrieked, cowered into the
corner and stayed down.

"Helen, what the hell?" Devlin jumped up
from his seat, tipped it over in his haste. 

I advanced on Carl slowly,
like a hungry lioness who found the weakest member of the
herd.  "We're going to have a little chat,
Painless Carl
."  The low snarl
sent chills down my spine, and I knew how far I planned to take
this charade.

"Keep her away from me!" Carl
screamed.  "Crazy bitch!  If this is some twisted version
of good cop-bad cop-crazy cop, I'll take the normal way."  He
protected his head by curling one arm over it.

"Have you lost your mind?"  Devlin
grabbed me from behind.  It was the end of polite behavior
from me.

I spun around, charged him as my arm
bisected his waist and flopped him onto the tabletop. Chairs flew
from the impact of the heavy body displacing the table.

"Jesus Christ!  Somebody shoot
her!  She's gonna kill me!"

My jujitsu wasn't as rusty as I
feared.  Over my shoulder, I heard Devlin wheezing to catch
his breath.  Ned yelled, but was too shocked to try to stop
me.  I grabbed Carl and dragged him out of the corner. He was
flung into one of the chairs now distant from the table.

"Shoot her!  Somebody shoot her!"

I saw Devlin's gun appear
out of the corner of my eye an instant before Ned pushed it
down.  "Dammit, Dev!  Have you lost your mind?  You
don't aim at one of
us
."

"Do it!" Carl shrieked.

I lifted the point of my boot heel to his
windpipe and applied only a threat of pressure.  "You're gonna
level with me, Carl, or we're gonna take this outside and settle
this one on one.  Man to man.  Fists only.  You're
tough with a gun, aren't you?  I think I know why.  If
you don't have one, any girl on the planet can kick your ass."

"Get away from me!"  Still, he sat
frozen in the chair as if it was a switchblade to his jugular
instead of a boot heel.

"Your choice, Carl.  Either we talk, or
we fight.  Personally, I'm kinda hoping you're dumb enough to
think you can take me.  Oh, don't worry about my bum
shoulder.  I could take you out with a thumb."

"What do you want from me?"

"Where's the former administrator of
Dunhaven?"

"What?  How should I –"

"Done fucking around, Carl," I
snarled.  "Where is he?"

"I don't know!"

"Is he dead too?"

"No!" he rasped.  "All I know was that
someone suggested it was time for him to retire."

"And that was when Southerby took over?"

"Yes.  Yes!  Jesus get that thing
away from my throat."

I lowered my boot to the floor and crossed
my arms.  "We go back to my way if I get the slightest hint
that you're lying to me, Carl.  Mean it.  No more lies
from you people."

He nodded quickly. 

"Why did Southerby show up after Jerry Lowe
was committed?"

I watched the mountainous Adam's apple hitch
and slide in Carl's throat.  "It was the disk."

"They thought Lowe had it?"

He nodded again.  "Jerry said he found
it when they were investigating Ireland's murder, that it was in a
safe place, but if anything ever happened to him, he'd make sure
everybody knew what was on it."

"So when Jerry was arrested..."

"Mitch showed up, determined to find the
damn thing.  I said we should leave well enough alone, but
Mitch said the job wasn't done, and he wasn't taking the risk
that... that..."

"Go on," I ground the heel of my boot
against the floor.

"He didn't want to take the risk that you'd
find it.  God only knows how many places Lowe has shit
stashed, man.  Plus there were other concerns."

"Such as?"

"I don't have a death wish," Carl
whispered.  "I'll tell you what I know to a point, but I'd
rather have you drive that boot through my neck than–"

"You wussy little coward," I spat on the
floor.  "Why wouldn't Lowe divulge the location of this
disk?"

"He wanted his freedom in exchange for
it.  We were supposed to arrange for him to disappear from the
hospital, to get out of the country and get him set up somewhere
else.  As in no extradition treaty somewhere else."

"And Southerby wouldn't agree?"

"He wanted to, man, but it was out of our
hands.  A lot of people hate Lowe's guts.  They thought
that if we used enough drugs, enough sessions in the treatment room
that Lowe would eventually crack, but the guy had lawyers crawling
all over the place about his competency.  We couldn't move
fast enough."

Cold laughter burst from frigid lungs. 
"I can't believe how stupid you all were.  He played you."

"We figured it was a possibility," Carl
muttered.  "I mean, that Lowe had been bluffing all
along."

"Was that when Southerby decided to see if
Journey Ireland had something to add to the story?"

"I don't know why he slashed her
throat."

It was beginning to get clearer to me than
it ever had been.  If Journey didn't talk to Southerby, he
wanted her too terrified to talk to anyone else.  Apparently
he picked up a lot of psychology during his tenure as administrator
of Dunhaven Hospital.  I turned to Ned. 

"Get it in writing.  All of it. 
Make sure Zack knows he wasn't entirely cooperative. 
Apparently tough guy Painless Carl is afraid of the boogeyman after
all."

Devlin was on my heels in the hallway
outside the interrogation room.  "What the hell were you
thinking, assaulting him like that?  Do you want this case
dismissed if it ever gets to court?"

"Calm down.  I didn't hurt him, or you
either for that matter.  Carl needed to believe I'd kill him,
Dev.  He needed to believe I'd go exactly as far as Southerby
would.  My money's on that foot in the back at Dunhaven by the
uniformed officer did more damage to Carl than my little sideshow
did."

He gripped my arm and jerked me backward
before I could leave.  "And what about what you did to me,
Helen?  We're supposed to be on the same side."

I stared at where his fingers strangled my
arm.  He let go quickly.  "You heard him.  Good cop,
bad cop, crazy cop.  It was far more convincing when you
decided it was a good idea to pull your gun on me."

"You're lucky Ned stopped me.  You
won't get the drop on me again, Helen."

I grinned.  "Wanna bet?"  The
challenge was thrown over a numb-to-pain left shoulder. 
Endorphins flooded my body as I marched toward the squad room.

"Where are you going now?" he called after
me.

I turned and walked backward. 
"Home."

"What for?"

I grinned.  "Time for a little
psychotherapy.  You coming or not?"

Chapter 38

Miraculously, the house was unchanged, still
standing, still guarded by Johnny's guys from OSI when I pulled the
Expedition around the circle drive and stopped.  There was no
time for the garage.  Besides, we wouldn't be staying that
long.