Malpractice in Maggody (17 page)

I pushed the button on the squawk box by the gate and dutifully identified myself. I wouldn’t have minded if the gate remained closed, but it swung open. I parked in the back and went into the grassy expanse between the garden and the pool. A young woman with stringy blond hair was seated at one of the tables next to the pool. She was wearing sunglasses and a bikini. The latter was an unfortunate choice. She glanced up, then looked back down at an open notebook in her lap.

She was probably the actress Randall Zumi had mentioned, but I’d already forgotten her name. I said, “Hi, there. You look awfully familiar. Haven’t I seen you on TV or in a movie?”

“Don’t bother with the bullshit.”

“No, I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere,” I gushed as I sat down across from her. “Give me a hint.”

“Okay, here’s a hint—get lost.” She picked up a pen and began to scribble in the notebook. “And while you’re at it, have someone bring me a bottle of water. The service around here’s lousy.”

“Yes, miss. You want me to massage your feet, too?”

She pulled off her sunglasses and stared at me. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m filling in for Molly Foss.”

“I heard about that. Seems somebody tried to teach her to swim last night, but she was too stupid. If you’re taking over her job, shouldn’t you be in the office filing or something?”

“Shouldn’t you be in therapy, getting your ego deflated?”

She slammed down the notebook and pen on the table. “I don’t think I like you very much.”

I leaned back and crossed my legs. “And I wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire. Now that we’ve found common ground, why don’t you take a deep breath and relax? How’s it going with the withdrawal? Nightmares, nausea, tantrums?”

“All of the above,” she said warily. “I’m Dawn Dartmouth. I was in a TV series a long time ago. If you’ve seen me since, you must have very poor taste in trashy cable movies. And you are…?”

“Arly Hanks. I’d tell you more, but I’m not supposed to disrupt the patients’ fragile psyches or cause setbacks in their therapy. Is sunbathing on your schedule?”

“I refused to suffer through another boring yoga session, so I skipped it and came out here. The doctors at this hellhole have to be careful. The last thing they want is a reputation for running a prison camp. They want to be known as the poshest, most discreet rehab hospital in the country, where the rich and famous are trampling all over each other to pay fifty grand a month.”

I couldn’t help myself. “Fifty grand a month?”

“That’s just for starters,” Dawn said drily. “Additional services provided by the world-renowned cosmetic surgeon Dr. Vincent Stonebridge aren’t part of the package. He’s already got me down for a thermage tissue tightening, lipo, and a laser peel. That’s another fifteen grand, and he’ll probably have more bright ideas later.”

“Sheesh,” I said. “Are the others destined for cosmetic surgery, too?”

“How would I know? It’s not like we all sit in a circle and share secrets. If you believed all the shit you hear at parties in L.A., you’d think no one has ever so much as had a tooth capped. Some of the women have had Botox so many times that they can barely move their lips. And those washed-up actresses who sell exercise videos and tacky jewelry on cable have had so many face-lifts that their eyebrows have disappeared under their hairlines.”

“Really?” I said, leaning forward. “Was Dr. Stonebridge their doctor?”

“A lot of them, but if I name names, I might as well buy a cabin in Idaho.” She paused, then made a face that reminded me of the gargoyles at Notre Dame. “Not that I wouldn’t kill for a baked potato with sour cream, chives, and caviar right now. You would not believe the crap they serve here. For lunch today, I get a bean sprout, three peas, and a rice cake. One night I woke up and realized I’d been chewing on my pillow. I don’t suppose you have a candy bar in your pocket or anything? I don’t have any cash, but I brought credit cards.”

“Sorry, Dawn. As soon as Dr. Skiller caught a whiff of chocolate on your breath, I’d be standing in front of a firing squad. Is that why you’re here—to lose weight?”

She put on her sunglasses. “I had a little legal problem back home, kind of a misunderstanding. From the way everybody jumped all over me, you’d have thought I’d actually run over the cop instead of just bruising him. If I’m a good girl and get straight, I’ll get off with probation and community service. I was thinking I could volunteer to raise money for art galleries in homeless shelters. I mean, just because someone’s homeless doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have anything to look at except graffiti.”

“Very commendable. Who told you about what happened to Molly?”

“That repulsive diet guru in the first suite. He wants me to be a spokeswoman for his next publicity push. I told him to talk to my agent.” Dawn picked up her notebook. “If you’re quite finished, why don’t you run along and bother somebody else. I’d like to work on my tan in peace and quiet.”

I wasn’t quite finished, not by a long shot. “Did you like Molly?”

“Did you mean to ask if I murdered her? There’s a difference, you know. I thought she was a scheming little bitch who’d dig up her grandmother’s grave to get the gold fillings. She would have made a good Hollywood agent, she was always so eager to negotiate. I might not have braked for her if she ran out in front of my Jaguar X-L, but I didn’t kill her. Like I’d chip a nail over some tractor-pull princess? I don’t think so. You might have better luck with Toby. He’s so horny that he’d screw anybody who wasn’t technically dead. One of the maids had to fight him off with a mop a couple of days ago. They leave his trays outside his door. He hung around the reception room a lot, dimpling and winking like he had a facial tic. It was too pathetic.”

“How did Molly respond?”

“She giggled and wiggled her tits and did everything else short of giving him a blow job on her desk. As soon as she spotted someone coming, she’d pretend to be all stern and remind him where he was supposed to be. She was such a lousy actress that she couldn’t have sold water in the middle of the desert. Shit, she probably couldn’t have given it away. Water, that is. She was probably spreading her legs in elementary school. Stupid little slut.”

Dawn’s opinion of Molly did not exactly coincide with Randall’s, and although it was likely to be motivated by jealousy, I wasn’t ready to dismiss it quite yet. I told her I’d see her later, then went into the garden and found the marble fountain. If I dropped to my knees and crawled around the fountain, all I’d end up with would be grass stains on my knees (and a red face if someone caught me in the act). Les was not a graduate of the Sherlockian School of Detection, but he would have done a thorough search.

The cherub smiled benignly as I approached him. There were scuff marks in the sod where presumably the killer had grappled with Molly—unless they’d been left by Harve, deputies, or the coroner and his flunkies when they removed the body. I examined the edge of the basin and the base below it for blood, but found nothing. Molly could have been easily overpowered. One hand on the back of her neck, holding her face under the water until she went limp. A few minutes longer to make sure she was dead. And then the killer had found a way to clamber back over the fence, or had simply gone inside the building and climbed into bed.

I wanted to talk to the orderly who’d discovered the body, as well as the guard. There was the language problem, however, and I wasn’t skilled enough in charades to get anywhere. I sat down on the bench and glared at the cherub, who’d seen it all. Odds were not good that he would enlighten me anytime soon. And if he did, it would be time to check myself into the Stonebridge Foundation. Maybe they’d let me wax floors and wash windows to pay for my Prozac.

It would have been nice to sit there until the middle of the afternoon, then call Harve and tell him that I’d get right back on the case first thing Monday morning. I’d dump off Ruby Bee’s car, toss a bag into my own backseat, and hightail it to Springfield. Jack would be waiting at the curb and insist on carrying my bag inside. Once the front door was closed, we’d be out of our clothes in no time flat. Much fooling around would take place until we reluctantly got dressed and went out to the backyard to grill steaks and drink wine. I could get used to it, I thought. And to him.

“Arly!” called Dr. Stonebridge, advancing briskly. “We’ve been worried about you. Brenda said you had some sort of emergency that required you to leave suddenly. I do hope the situation was not dire. If I can be of help…?”

“No, everything’s under control,” I said, presuming he wasn’t referring to my libido, which was working overtime at the moment. “A family situation, that’s all.”

“Have you made any progress in determining who did this dreadful thing?”

I wasn’t inclined to keep him up to date unless he wanted to hire me and triple my salary, which still wouldn’t have paid for a month’s stay at his fancy rehab. “I need to speak to the orderly and to the guard on duty last night. Are you sure none of the Mexicans speak English?”

“Not a word,” he said complacently. “I personally hired each one of them. They follow instructions when they’re here, and stay together when they’re off duty. I think of them as my burros—passive, uncomplaining, grateful for the opportunity to earn money for their families. And they’ve been warned that if they become ill or refuse to work, they will be fired and left to make their way home.”

“It’s a relief to know you’re not exploiting them. I’m still going to have to talk to the two that I mentioned.”

“Do your best, my dear, although you’ll find out quickly that they’re likely not to cooperate.” He went to the fountain and let his fingers dangle in the water. “I understand you’ve spoken to several of our patients.”

“I call it interviewing potential witnesses,” I said coldly. “Have you noticed anything odd in the last day or two? Someone prowling around in unauthorized places or even searching the offices and apartments?”

“Absolutely not. We are all very conscious of the need for security. We have a large quantity of drugs on the premises, including narcotics. Randall, Brenda, and I are always careful to keep cabinets and doors locked to prevent theft. Several of our patients are heavy drug users who would love to get hold of medications like Pondimin, Adipex, Seconal, and Nembutal. If one of them were to overdose, we’d be liable.”

“Don’t the maids have access to a master key so they can clean?” I asked.

Dr. Stonebridge peered down at me. “The medications are kept in a storage room in the surgical suite that cannot be unlocked with the master room key. We keep a very tight inventory list so that we can account for every milligram that’s dispensed.”

If someone had searched his rooms, he obviously wasn’t going to tell me. I decided not to push it any further for the moment. “I’ll contact the sheriff’s office to get a translator, but I doubt they can find anyone until Monday. It might be best if I put the investigation on hold until then. I suggest that you double your security measures for the next two nights, maybe have someone patrol the inside of the building as well as the grounds.”

“Then you don’t believe that someone from outside found a way to breach security? I know Randall and Brenda, and I can vouch for both of them. I met Walter for the first time a week ago, but he seems harmless. As you’ve been told, the patients are sedated for the night, so none of them could be responsible.” He paused. “That leaves the Mexicans, but Brenda handles them. I would be very surprised if Molly knew their names, or if they knew hers. The coroner ruled out sexual assault.”

“Just because she wasn’t molested doesn’t mean someone didn’t attempt it,” I pointed out. “And I don’t know where she was between nine o’clock last night and four this morning, when her body was found.”

“Hmm.” He leaned against the edge of the fountain and regarded me with the same blank stare as the cherub behind him. “A very intriguing point, Arly. Do you think she might have hidden herself until the rest of us retired, then attempted to steal drugs? I’ve been told that the narcotics like OxyContin and Percocet sell for upwards of five dollars per tablet on the street.”

“Would Molly have done something like that?”

“It’s impossible to say. I certainly would never have hired her if I suspected she might. She seemed like a reasonably bright girl, personable and eager to learn. I had hopes that we might be able to increase her responsibilities. As we expand, we’ll have to hire more office staff. She could have ended up in a supervisory position.”

Not if Brenda Skiller had any voice in the matter, I thought. “You’re probably right,” I said cautiously, “but we need to dispel the possibility that she was a little bit too interested in the drugs. I’m going to arrange for a deputy to come out here later today and take everybody’s fingerprints. That way we can determine if anyone has been in an unauthorized area like the surgical suite.”

“Including mine?”

“Just for purposes of elimination.” I knew this seemed like a glib explanation, but I didn’t want to tell him about Randall’s claim that his personal papers had been pawed through. Dr. Stonebridge was as likely a suspect as any of his colleagues, patients, and employees. I prefer to characterize myself as an equal opportunity investigator.

Dr. Stonebridge cleared his throat. “I thought I made it clear that the patients cannot be subjected to stress. The whole point of having you here undercover is to keep them unaware of this unfortunate incident. How am I supposed to ask them to submit to being fingerprinted?”