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THE MERCY MURDERS
Prologue
The old woman was on a mission as she walked down the Miami General hospital corridor. Her gray-white scraggly hair was too tired to curl and, but for her horn-rimmed glasses, covered her face. She was tall, or used to be before her bones slumped and gave her a rounded hump on her back. Her brown orthopedic shoes shuffled over the linoleum floor as she walked a slow gait assisted by a three footed cane. Her hand gripped a small bouquet of cheerful yellow daisies. No one paid her any mind as they rushed past on their varied missions of mercy.
Clarence Hill took up residence in the room at the end of the corridor a few weeks ago. This last stroke had robbed him of speech, movement, and thought. His body breathed on with the help of the respirator. Intravenous lines in both arms supplied fluids and medications to keep his heart and lungs functioning, while a Foley catheter drained out the waste. A monitor next to the bed gave the faint beep of a steady heartbeat. The room already had a slight odor of death and decay. No amount of medical treatment or industrial cleaner could erase the inevitable scent.
The old woman walked in and stood at the foot of the bed studying Clarence. He must have been a handsome man in his day, tall and strong in his youth, she thought, but now the victim of time and circumstance. How he must hate this torture! She placed the flowers on the bedside table and bowed her head to say a short prayer. Clarence deserved better.
She put on some gloves from a shelf above the sink, then removed a small plastic baggy from the pocket of her formless dress. From within, she withdrew a small specially prepared cotton swab. Walking over to Clarence, she wiped the inside of his mouth with the moistened swab before replacing it back into the baggy. Then, she placed the baggy back into her pocket and put the gloves into the red medical waste basket where she knew they would be incinerated. Her mission was complete. She left the flowers.
The old woman walked back down the corridor with her shuffling gait. Slow and easy. Behind her, the monitor began a frantic beat. The alarms sounded and the staff ran to Clarence. She could have told them, it would do no good to try.
***
Mary Tudor had been in the Lamont Nursing Center for two years. During that time, she lost the last of herself. Now the aides used a large syringe to push her dinner via a gastric tube placed through her abdominal wall and into her stomach. Mary had forgotten how to chew.
A young man walked briskly down the hall, his sneakers making little sound on the tile floor. He was tall, straight and clean-shaven with shaggy brown hair. An old leather jacket covered his white tee shirt. Faded blue jeans gave him a worn out look. During visiting hours, there were a few other guests finding their way into different rooms. But, Mary didn’t have any visitors. Her husband died years ago and they were never blessed with children. She was alone.
When he entered her room, the young man looked around and was sad to see nothing personal. He walked to the bedside and patted Mary’s hand before planting a kiss on her forehead. He bowed his head and said a short prayer. Putting on gloves from the bedside table, he took out the baggy with the moistened swab. He gently pried open Mary’s mouth and ran the swab around the interior. Replacing the swab into the baggy, he dumped the gloves into the red trash bag and left. Within minutes, Mary’s heart began to flutter and then to fibrillate. Her death was quick, silent and painless.
***
The janitor pushed his bucket and pail down the Lutheran Hospital corridor. He was tall with a rounded belly, probably from too many beers, and his long salt and pepper hair was pulled back into a ponytail reminiscent of younger days. His gray mustache desperately needed trimming and drooped over his upper lip.
“I have a mess in room 232. Can you take care of it?” the nurse’s aide asked.
“Sure can,” the janitor rumbled. “Right after I finish in room 244.”
“Thanks.”
The Janitor entered room 244. William Tyler slept in a drugged fog. The cancer had spread throughout his bones. Both legs had been amputated below the knee and chemo had failed. His spine, ribs and femurs were riddled with metastasis. His care consisted of trying to manage his pain. He was a brave man, a veteran who had faced death in two wars without complaint. He cried now. William deserved better. The janitor looked around the room. There were pictures everywhere...smiling family shots and homemade cards saying, “Grandpa, we love you”.
The janitor took out the baggy and put on some gloves from the bedside table. He bowed his head, said a short prayer, and with practiced care, the swab was deployed. Williams eyes opened for a moment and looked into the kind eyes of the janitor.
“It’ll be better soon,” the janitor whispered as he put the swab away. Pushing his bucket and mop, the janitor left to clean room 232. Behind him, William’s heart began to flutter, then fibrillate. With a grateful sigh, his pain ceased.
Chapter 1
Glory sipped her third cup of coffee as she shuffled through the day’s paperwork. Her computer had a faint buzz that annoyed the hell out of her, but IT couldn’t seem to clean it up. The county was too cheap to replace the old workhorse. “Not in the budget,” was the predictable answer. One would think being the Chief Medical Examiner would give her some leverage. She was tempted to have an accident with her coffee, but an overactive conscience stopped her. She still felt guilty about the nickel she took from Kathy Taylor’s desk in first grade.
Looking out the window, Glory watched the sunset over the ocean. The view from her office window was the biggest perk of her job. She watched the sunsets every chance she got and never saw the same one twice. Her chair creaked as she leaned back to enjoy the show with the last of her coffee. She sighed. This time of day was peaceful. The office was empty, but for Glory, and she liked it that way. The older she got, the more annoying people seemed to be. Not that I’m old, she thought.
“I better head for home,” Glory said to her fern in the corner. “I’ll finish up in the morning.”
Glory picked up her purse and keys and headed to the parking garage. Her 1966 Mustang fastback was her pride and joy. The dark green exterior gleamed and the black leather interior smelled of the cleaner the detailer had used. “Kate” was Glory’s reward for making Chief Medical Examiner. Her friends thought she should upgrade her condo, but Glory said, “No, maybe later.” She waved her fingers at Amos, the security guard, as she drove out of the garage and into traffic. There was always traffic. For her next vacation, she was going somewhere quiet...maybe a mountain cabin. Change of scenery. Glory got a few glances her way and smiled. At her age, it was probably the car, she thought.
Glory was a tall, lean, 40 year-old with short, no nonsense hair that accented her large expressive brown eyes. An athlete in her younger days, she still took the time for running. Once or twice a year she ran a 5K race, but this year she may have to pass. Her right knee was acting up and her orthopedist said it was time to stop. She hated getting older...her body was supposed to do what she wanted it to do.
Darkness fell by the time she pulled into the condo garage. She waved at the guard and drove into her parking spot. Walking to the elevator, she put her keys through her fingers, a poor man’s brass knuckles. A good punch with the protruding keys could do some damage. Maybe she was paranoid, but after what she saw day after day, an ounce of prevention seemed a reasonable habit. She pushed the elevator button for her floor and rode up to the music. Why do they make elevator music so bland? She’d prefer a little Queen.
When she opened her condo doors, there was a chorus of welcoming meows. Two Siamese Sealpoints greeted her at the door expecting their evening pats. Glory dropped her keys in the bowl by the door, sat on the chair, and lavished attention on her babies. Piwacket and Nemo were siblings Glory had raised from kittens.
“C’mon babies. Dinner time.” The two followed her into the kitchen where dinner was served. They ate before Glory. Too tired to cook tonight, she got out some leftover pasta. She poured herself a glass of Merlot and collapsed into her recliner to relax with her dinner. Another quiet night.
A random thought popped into her head. Reports she had looked over during the last few weeks seemed to be circling around in her mind. What was it? She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something had her antenna up. Maybe in the morning, when she wasn’t so tired, she’d look over everything again and inspiration would strike. Right now, she wanted to relax in a hot bath and get a good night’s sleep. So that’s what she did.
The morning routine varied very little. Wake up, brush teeth, drink the first cup of coffee, spoil the girls a little, get dressed and head to the office. She avoided some of the early morning rush hour by leaving an hour early. Getting to the office before everyone else gave her a few moments of peace to collect herself for the day...and a second cup of coffee. She worked until a rumbling stomach told her to pay attention.
The cafeteria was crowded, but Glory went to the head of the line...another perk. “Chef’s salad and dinner roll, please.” She headed for a table in the corner and joined the assistant district attorney, Claire Franks. The two career women had formed a strong bond over the years, both very focused on their jobs and advancing up the ranks. Claire was a graduate of Harvard Law and came to Miami as a public defender. Soon after, she realized she was more suited to locking the scum away than with giving them their day in court.
Claire and Glory couldn’t be more different in appearance. Where Glory was tall and lean, Claire was short and reubenesque. Glory was brown on brown, Claire had blonde hair and green eyes. The coroner was a thoughtful woman of few words, the prosecutor was loquacious and had a short fuse. Their sense of humor however, was identical.
“How’s your day going?” Claire asked with a mouth full of french fries, her weakness.
“Good enough . How’s the trial going?” Glory referred to Claire’s latest high profile murder case. A husband injected his terminally ill wife with enough morphine to kill her. Claire said murder, the defense attorney said accidental overdose. The husband testified the doses of morphine required to keep his wife’s pain under control kept increasing, and he just made a mistake. Claire was going for murder, the defense was hoping for accidental death or manslaughter.
“You think he did it on purpose?” Glory said.
“Sure do.” Claire added another squirt of ketchup to her fries. There could never be enough ketchup...or salt. “I don’t care if she was going to die anyway. No one has the right to take a life. And an interesting side fact is he gets her insurance...a nice little $200,000. So I doubt his motive was just to ease her suffering.”
“They Shoot Horses, Don’t They,” Glory smiled.
“Movies have nothing to do with real life.”
“Okay...okay, don’t get riled. Only teasing.”
“Sorry. This case has me a little hyped. Think I’ll need a drink. How about going to O’Malleys after work?” Claire finished her last fry and wiped her hands. Glancing at her watch, she jumped up. “Gotta get back to court. See you at 6?”
“Sure. Give ’em hell.”
Chapter Two
The tall scrub tech pushed the gurney down Miami General’s fourth floor corridor. His hair was covered by a blue surgical cap and a mask hung loose about his neck. Thick-framed black glasses and a small black mustache gave him a studious look. He left the gurney outside room 402. Inside, he found an elderly woman sleeping slumped over against the side rail. After pushing her upright, he lowered the head enough to keep her from sliding against the rail again. Her breathing became more labored. He bowed his head for a short prayer, took the swab packet out of his pocket, and after putting on the gloves, swabbed her mouth. The swab went back into his pocket. Then, as her heart fluttered, he pushed the gurney back down the hall to the elevator.
***
“Good morning, boss lady. I’ve got fifty deaths last night,” Casey said as she entered Glory’s office Wednesday morning.
“Tell me and cut the boss lady crap,” Glory said. Casey was going to take some breaking in.
“Okay, Chief. First, was a Phillip Carstairs, 38, killed in a motor vehicle accident... DUI. Second, Timothy Carstairs, 6, also killed in the accident. Third, Ann Pensacki, 42, probable suicide. There are 12 heart attacks and 3 strokes. Two are homicides. Here’s the list.”
“How many listed for autopsy?” Glory said.
“I think it was 10.”
“What about this cancer patient with COPD, Melanie Harris, 80?”
“She’s not listed.”
“Put her on also. Got a request from the family. Assign Dr. Anderson to her. We have a student who needs to observe and Anderson loves to teach. She’ll be a good case. And Casey, no Chief either. It’s just Glory.”
Time for another cup of coffee. The rest of the day Glory was buried in paperwork. There was an inquest to prepare for and the monthly statistics report on deaths in her jurisdiction was due. By the time she finished, the sun set. Glory stood and did a few stretches to get the kinks out her shoulders.
She dumped a glass of water into her fern and turned the lights off.
“Good morning, Phil,” Glory said as she entered the lab two days later. “You about ready to start the case?”
“Yeah...just give me a minute.” Dr. Phil Anderson signed off his computer and rose to shake Glory’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in awhile.”
“You’re not going to O’Malley’s much anymore.” Glory smiled as they put on the exam gloves.
“No. My fiance is not real fond of bars, so …” Phil shrugged.
“Keep her happy, Phil. She’s a nice lady and more than you deserve!”
“Thanks for the first and I’ll ignore the second.”
“Where’s the student?”
“Men’s room,” Anderson said. They both looked up as an earnest young man walked into the lab.
“Sorry,” he said blushing. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
“Joe Thomas, this is Glory Vandenburg, our Chief Medical Examiner,” Anderson said.
“Thank you for permitting me to observe, Dr. Vandenburg.”
“You’re welcome, Joe. I hope I selected a good case for you. You’ve had your normal anatomy. This case will show you advanced diseased states, especially the effects of emphysema and lung cancer on lung tissue.”
Melanie Harris was already lying on the exam table. Dr. Anderson adjusted the microphone he wore to record his findings. The first step was to examine the body externally. Phil always approached an autopsy as a clean slate. He carefully cleared his mind of any preconceived notions as to cause of death. Everything, to the smallest detail, was described for the recorder. Lesions were measured, swabbed if appropriate, and photographed. In Melanie’s case, there were needle marks from injection and intravenous sites, and a few bruises from blood draws. Phil compressed her chest and inhaled near her nose to check for any odor. He opened Melanie’s mouth and noted the inflamed mucous membranes.
“Look at this.” Phil motioned Glory to his side.
“Looks a little red,” Glory said.
“Yeah,” Phil said. “was she intubated?”
“No,” Glory said after checking the admission sheet. “Well, I have to get to a hearing, so I’ll let you get back to work. Call me if you find anything of interest. Nice meeting you, Joe.”
A few hours later when Glory returned from the hearing, she stopped by the lab to talk to Phil. He was cleaning up and the body was already back in the cooler.
“Find anything?” Glory asked.
“About what you expected. Her lungs were full of cancer and fairly advanced COPD. Not sure how she lived as long as she did.” Phil finished washing his hands.
“What was the cause of death?”
“Cardiovascular...in the end.”
“I think the family is trying to make a malpractice case. Delayed diagnosis or something. How did Joe do?”
“Only threw up once. Asked a lot of pretty good questions, though.”
“Then he did better than I did. Thanks for your help.”
Chapter Three
The old woman walked down Miami General’s third floor corridor. She didn’t like returning to the same facility so soon, but there was real suffering here. Two candidates caught her eye, and for the first time, she planned a double.
Her orthopedic shoes shuffled down the linoleum floor in rhythm with her three legged cane. The cheerful yellow daisies clutched in her left hand at odds with her mousy brown and gray dress. First, she went into room 314. This was a very sad case. A young woman with a ruptured brain aneurysm. Her brain may be gone, but her strong young body would go on for a very long time...long enough to drain all the emotional and financial resources of her family. The old woman said her prayer and deployed the swab.
“What are you doing?” a voice said.
Startled, the old woman glanced up to see a nurse in the doorway. Something about the old woman’s actions made the nurse suspicious and she wasn’t a known member of the family.
“Who are you?” the nurse demanded as she approached the bed.
The old woman panicked. She lashed out and swiped the swab down the nurse’s arm. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
“What is that? What are you doing?” The nurse tried to grab the old woman’s arm but was pushed aside. Within a few moments, the patient began to seize. The nurse tried to reach for the call button to signal for help. A strong arm stopped her.
“I can’t let you do that,” the old woman said.
“You did something, didn’t you? You won’t get away with it...I,” the nurse’s eyes rolled back in her head. She clutched at her chest and fell to the floor.
“Why...?” That was the last word she spoke.
“I really am so very sorry.” The old woman walked out of room 314 and closed the door. She needed to get away. The other chosen one would have to wait for another day.
***
Hank Garcia entered room 314 and looked over the scene. The room was in chaos. An emergency cart was pushed against the wall and the body on the floor had been moved in the staff’s efforts to save her. She was an attractive woman, approximately 35, with black hair and a few extra pounds. A tube was still down her throat, her scrub top slit down the front and her chest still had defibrillator pads in place. Hank walked around the woman and approached the bed. Another young woman lay on the bed but without the resuscitation equipment. A “Do Not Resuscitate” sign was above the headboard.
Hank’s deep brown eyes fastened onto the doctor washing his hands at the sink.
“So, Doc, what happened here?” Hank asked. He leaned his solid muscular frame against the foot board and flashed his badge. “Lieutenant Garcia.”
The doctor dried his hands and turned to the detective. His gesture swept around the room. “I think all this was murder.”
“Because?” Hank said.
“Because two young women just died of probable cardiac arrest within minutes of each other. I’d consider that suspicious.”
“Why? That one was obviously in bad shape,” Hank said. “You must have been expecting her to go soon or there wouldn’t be a sign.”
“Not really. She was young and had a strong heart. She could have lived like that for years.”
“And you are?” Hank asked.
“Doctor Andrews. I’m the hospitalist on duty.”
“And who was she?” Hank pointed to the body on the floor.
“She was the charge nurse for this floor, Mary Carstairs.”
“Well,” Hank sighed, “don’t touch anything else. My team is on the way. But you’ve contaminated the scene and made our job harder.”
“Couldn’t be helped. We had to try.”
“Yeah, I know.” Hank pulled out his notepad. “Start from the beginning and tell me everything you remember.”
“It isn’t much. An aide came looking for Mary and found her on the floor. She called a code. We were so intent on Mary it took a few minutes to notice that the patient was gone also.”
“And she was?” Hank said.
“Sandy Thomas, a young mother of 2, and in a persistent vegetative state. Her family had just decided on the no code. They were considering organ donations when the time came.”
“She from money?”
“I have no idea. Why.”
“Money is always a good motive, Doc. Money and sex, two of the best.”
“You’re very cynical,” Dr. Andrews said. He pulled out a chair and sat down rubbing his hands up and down his pant legs. His aquiline face sagged with fatigue. He’d liked Mary. Her husband hadn’t even been notified yet. The nursing supervisor was getting the chaplin and they would handle the mess that was going to come.
“All cops are cynical. Comes with the territory. Mary have any problems with anyone here at the hospital?” Hank didn’t look up as he made his notes. People were good actors. Sometimes he just liked to listen to the tone of their voices, their inflections.
“Not that I know of, at least nothing of significance.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just the usual problems working with the large number of people in a hospital. There’s always personality issues.” Dr. Andrews leaned his head back against the wall closing his tired brown eyes. His shaggy brown hair had streaks of gray and the creases around his mouth spoke of smiles more often than frowns.
“Like...?” Hank prompted.
“”I guess the most recent was that Mary had to write up an aide for sleeping on duty. The aide was reprimanded.”
“Not fired?”
“No, warned. She’s on probation. I hardly think murder would be a reasonable reaction.”
“I’ll talk to everybody, Doc. Whether it’s reasonable or not. Can you give me a list of people on duty?”
“I’ll contact staffing.”
“Good. Now I’d like to talk to the aide that found the body.” Hank squatted over the body being careful not to touch anything.
“I’ll get her.”
Chapter Four
“Morning, Boss. Got something curious for you today.” Casey tripped over her own feet as she rushed into Glory’s office. “Cripes!” Papers flew across the floor and Glory could only sigh. The girl was a tornado sometimes.
“What is it?” Glory said.
“There was a weird double murder at Miami General.” Casey put the papers back into the file, placed it on Glory’s desk and started thumbing through till she found the report she was looking for. “Eureka! You can run, but you can’t hide.” She handed the paper to Glory.
“Thank you.” Glory said and began reading. “You can go.” She smiled to herself as she heard Casey’s sigh.
“Aren’t you going to let me know what this is about?” Casey asked.
“Nope.”
“Oh, man.” Casey moped as she walked out of the office. The door closed with a firm click.
Glory had to laugh. Casey was so young. Don’t think I was ever that young, she thought. Then she forgot about Casey as she read the report. What were the odds of two young women in the same room dying of heart failure. Phil’s not going to be happy with me, but he’s doing both of these. Glory reached for her coffee and leaned back to look out her window. Yep...her gut was in a knot.
She left a voicemail for Phil to come to her office when he finished his work and then got back to hers. Hours later, Phil came in and plopped down on her office couch.
“How long is Gretchen on maternity leave?” Phil asked referring to Glory’s regular secretary. “This one looks and acts like Pollyanna.”
“Gretchen’s taking the full three months. Casey’s from the pool.”
“Well...what’s up?” he asked.
“I want you to handle these two autopsies personally,” Glory said as she handed him the files.
Glory leaned back in her chair and gave Phil a chance to glance over the cases.
“This one, um Mary Carstairs, I understand. But why the other?” Phil said.
“Because the hospitalist thinks they died the same way.”
“And...”
“The same way, the same room, the same time.”
“Well, gotta admit that’s suspicious. If you reassign my other case tomorrow, I can do them back to back.” Phil stood up to leave.
“You got it.”
“I gotta find another line of work.”
“That’s what they all say.” Glory smiled. Phil would be busy the next couple days. She changed the schedule to accommodate Phil’s new assignment then got back to her paperwork till the end of the day.
***
The next morning Glory stopped by autopsy. Phil was starting with Mary Carstairs. She stood back and watched Phil work. He was thorough and methodical, very little escaped his sharp eye. She left when he started the incision. She may be silent, but just having an observer was distracting and Glory wanted him focused.
Hours later, Glory was finishing her death statistics when Phil came in to report on his findings.
“Well, what was the cause of death?” Glory asked.
“Darn if I know. Cardiovascular event, but can’t figure what triggered it. Coronary arteries were clean, no previous damage. By all events, she was a healthy young woman.”
“So must be foul play?”
“I’ve sent all the specimens to the lab. That’ll take a few days. Then we’ll know.”
“Okay. Thanks, Phil. And the other?”
“I’ll do her in the morning and let you know. Got a call from Leslie, some wedding plan emergency. Here’s the preliminary report on Carstairs.”
The next day, Sandy Thomas’s report was the same...cardiovascular event without pathology. The damage to her cerebral cortex was extensive with a healthy appearing brain stem. A young healthy woman if you didn’t count the brain damage. Her body could’ve lasted for years. Again, specimens were sent to the lab and Glory would have to wait to see if drugs or poison were to blame. Has to be, she thought.
***
Two days later the lab reports came in as inconclusive as the autopsy. No known drug or poison was identified in blood, gastric secretions, small intestines, liver, kidney, urine or feces. Glory picked up the phone and called the investigating officer.
“Garcia.” A deep male voice said.
“Hank, it’s Glory.” She had to smile. Hank was one of her favorites. The fact that he had a huge hard-on for Claire only made her appreciate his good taste.
“Hey there, beautiful. What’cha got for me.”
“You’re not going to be happy, Hank. We found zip.”
“You’re fired!” Hank said.
“Sorry. I had my best guy on this case and he couldn’t find anything to explain cause of death.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. There has to be something. I’ve been interviewing everyone involved with this case and have come up empty. Both woman are squeaky clean...not so much as a parking ticket. There’s no money trail, no love triangle. I’ve got nowhere to go.”
“Why don’t we send some specimens out to the FBI. Maybe they’ll find something.”
“Do it.”
“Okay,” Glory said. “I’ll send them out in the morning.”
“How long will that take.”
“As long as it takes. You don’t rush the FBI.”
“I hear you.” There was silence for a moment. “You and Claire going to O”Malley’s tonight?”
“I could be convinced.” Glory smiled at the phone. Who did Hank think he was fooling?
“See you there after shift.”
After Hank hung up, Glory dialed Claire’s office. Claire’s secretary said that Claire was in a meeting but should be out soon. Leaving a message, Glory disconnected and went back to the report.
The third reading gave no further insight than the first and second. Maybe I do need a drink, she thought just as the phone rang.
“Hey, Glory.” Claire sounded tired.
“Hi, Claire. Wanted to know if you’re up for O’Malley’s.”
“I don’t know. I’m bushed. I may just go home and soak in a hot tub.”
Glory saw her matchmaking plans going down Claire’s drain. Time to bring out bigger guns.
“I could really use your help on a case we’re working on. That brain of yours can come up with some interesting twists I might not catch.”
“Really? Give me a break. You’ve never asked me for anything remotely like that. What are you up to?” Claire was no fool. She knew a snow job when she heard one.
“You got me. Hank’s going to join us tonight.”
“Really. Well...maybe one drink. But I look like dog meat after the day I’ve had.” Claire sighed.
“Not on your worst day. You’re always gorgeous. When I’m with you, no man gives me a second look.” Glory laughed.
“Right. Okay, I’m going. Stop the sales pitch. See you at six.” Claire hung up.
At six sharp Hank walked into O’Malley’s. Greetings were called and answered as he made his way to Glory and Claire’s table. “Can I get you girls another round?”
“Sure can,” Claire said.
“Name your poison.” Hank signaled the waitress.
“Merlot for the both of us,” Glory said.
“Merlot for the girls and a Sam Adams for me.” Hank settled down into his seat.
“Rough day?” Claire asked.
“If you count asking questions all day and not getting anything concrete a bad day. Then this was the worst.”
“What’s going on?” Claire asked.
“We’ve got two dead young women with the same cause of death, no motives, and no suspects.”
“There was an article in the paper about two women found dead at Miami General. That the case?” Claire said.
Hank picked up his beer and drained half the bottle. “Yes.”
“Well, that’s a bitch.”
“Tell me about it.” Hank drained the rest of his beer and signaled for another.
“Don’t you think you should slow down a bit?” Claire said. She stared down at her glass. Her father had been an alcoholic and that made her leery. She liked Hank, but wasn’t about to get involved with a drinker. Maybe she shouldn’t have come, she thought.
Hank’s face flushed, but before he could respond, Glory interrupted. “You sure there’s no hidden money? A nice fat insurance policy?”
The table was silent for a moment. Claire looked at Glory who shook her head slightly.
“Motive could still be money. Maybe someone in the family didn’t want Sandy to drain the family’s funds. Maybe they wanted to put her out of her misery,” Claire said.
“What makes you say that?” Hank said.
“I just prosecuted a case where I think the husband overdosed his terminally ill wife. Might be worth looking at here.”
“If that’s so, I wonder how he did it? And why kill Mary Carstairs?” Hank took a drink from his beer.
“Maybe Mary was the intended victim and the patient died naturally,” Clare suggested.
“Could she be an innocent bystander,” Glory said.
“It sure would help if we knew how they died,” Hank said.
“We’re doing the best we can. I’ve got my best forensic pathologist on both cases. Our lab came up with nothing so all we can do now is to wait for the FBI lab findings.”
“Sure, sure. Sorry. I think I’ll head on out. I’m bushed.” Hank drained his bottle and with a little salute, left the bar.
“Great way to chase him away,” Glory said. She frowned at Claire.
“I’m sorry. Not interested in him if he’s going to drink like that. I don’t want to be around a drunk. Had enough of that growing up.”
“I’ve never seen Hank drunk. Two beers do not a drunk make.”
“I’ll reserve judgment.”
“Do that.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The weekend was quiet. Glory went to her folks house for Sunday dinner and her dad’s birthday bash. Both brothers were there with wives and kids in tow. Her nieces and nephews were great, but Glory could only handle them en mass for about two hours before her head threatened to explode. Individually, she loved spending time with them, but seven wild indians were too much. Only for her dad would she suffer this.
“Tell us the stories again, Grandma!” Annie asked. She was ten and considered herself the family historian and always wanted family stories.
“What would you like to hear?” Grandma said.
“Tell us about when Aunt Glory was born,” Annie said with a smile.
“Well, let’s see. It was a very hot summer day and all I wanted to do was sleep,” Grandma said.
“But Aunt Glory had other ideas,” Sammy interrupted. He didn’t want his sister to get all the attention.
“That’s right. Now this was my third and I thought last baby and...”
“You wanted a girl!” Sammy said.
“Now, who’s telling this story.” Grandma raised her eyebrows at Sammy.
“Sorry, Grandma.”
“You know we come from a large family of boys. Boys, boys, boys. I had five brothers and your grandpa had six brothers. Grandma Vandenburg prayed daily that I would have a girl. She never got to have tea parties or play dress up or plan a wedding. I’d already given her two grandsons and she was losing hope.”
“Didn’t she like boys?” asked Tommy, the youngest of the grandsons and one of Glory’s favorites.
“She loved them all. She just wanted to love a granddaughter too.”
“Then what happened,” said Annie.
“I got a big craving for ice cream and lo and behold...”
“There was none,” all the kids yelled.
“Sure wasn’t! So I went to the ice cream store around the corner and was enjoying some cold delicious vanilla, when surprise...whoosh...Glory was not going to wait. The poor clerk panicked and came running. She slipped and fell on the floor knocking her head on a table. Knocked herself out. So there I was eating my ice cream with an unconscious teenager laying on the floor.”
Glory knew this story by heart. Maybe this is why she never had kids. Who wants to be put through all that?
“So, I walked behind the counter and called Grandpa. He got me to the hospital and soon after everyone was there. I had my own cheering section. Your great grandma Vandenburg had asked to be in the delivery room, so we let her. She was wonderful. The best thing was when the baby was born. She yelled “glory hallelujah! It’s a girl.”
“And that’s how come she’s called Glory.”
“Yes, it is. Now who’s ready for cake and ice cream?” The kids followed grandma into the kitchen like ducks in a row.
“That’s Annie’s favorite story,” Paul smiled.
“You’re just jealous your birth was so average,” Peter said.
“Enough,” Glory laughed. “Anyone for blackjack?” She knew her brothers couldn’t pass up a chance to take her down. She was the undisputed family blackjack champion. The rest of the day was spent proving her superiority.
***
Monday morning Glory got to work earlier than usual. During the night an idea kept rolling around in her head. Claire had said maybe it was essentially a murder for mercy’s sake. She thought about her gut feeling two weeks ago that something was off. Now she was even more curious. She logged onto her computer and began going through the last month’s death certificates looking specifically at cause of death.
She noted all cardiovascular deaths and marked basic information--time of death, autopsy findings, if available, medical history, and suspicious circumstances. Regular duties interrupted and she grudgingly put aside the file and attended to business. The day remained hectic and she didn’t look at the file again till after hours.
The next thing she knew the night security guard popped his head into her office.
“Hey, Glory. What’s up tonight?” Amos Bradshaw had been night guard for ten years. He was a fount of information. If you wanted to know the scoop on anyone in house, ask Amos. What no one could figure was how he knew so much when he only worked nights.
“Good lord, Amos. What time is it?” Glory said. Her eyelids felt heavy.
“Almost ten.”
“I gotta get home. Thanks for calling my attention to the time.” Glory saved her file and shut down the computer.
“Want me to walk you to your car?” Amos asked.
“No. I’m good. Have a quiet night.”
“Always do.”
Piwacket and Nemo were hysterical when Glory came in the door.
“Sorry babies,” Glory said and walked straight to the kitchen to feed them. Once the rebellion had been appeased, Glory headed to bed. Facts and dates were swimming in whirlpools around her brain.
“I’m too tired to think anymore.” The cats acknowledged her by sitting down to groom themselves. “You’re no help.” Both cats jumped up to curl at the foot of the bed. Glory fell asleep with fragments of data swimming around in her head.
When the alarm rang, Glory sat up in bed wide awake. She jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready for the office. She had to look over that file again. During the night, an idea started playing in her head. If what she was thinking was even remotely right, they had a real serious problem on their hands.
“I don’t want to be disturbed ’til I call you,” Glory told Casey as she sat at her desk.
“Sure, boss,” Casey replied. “Want some coffee?”
Glory looked down at her empty hand. How could she forget her coffee? “Yes, please.”
Glory went directly to the file she started yesterday and looked through the times of death. Then she correlated with diagnosis. A pattern began to emerge. Every Tuesday evening there was a death of a terminally ill patient. Unfortunately, there were very few autopsies to give cause of death. She had only gone back 3 months. With a sick feeling in her gut, she spent the next few hours looking to see how far back the pattern held.
***
Hank was sitting at his desk trying to decide where to go next on the hospital deaths. One of the detectives also suggested that Mary Carstairs was the victim and Sandy Thomas just died because of her illness. But Hank didn’t believe in coincidences. The phone rang.
“Garcia.”
“Hank,” Glory said, “can you come to my office. I have something you need to see.”
“Sure. When?”
“As soon as you can. I have an inquest at one.”
“Be there in fifteen minutes.”
Glory started laying out her theory and tried to back it up with the data from her file. Just like what she would expect at an inquest. She had Casey run to get a couple cups of coffee. She’d order something stronger if she could.
Hank sauntered into her office and plopped into the chair, his sturdy legs stretched out. He looked tired and a bit rumbled, but he never cared about fashion. He accepted the offered coffee and after a sip grumbled, “What’s up?’
“I want you to look at this for a moment and keep an open mind.”
“My mind’s always open,” Hank said.
Glory turned the screen towards Hank and just let him read for himself. After a few minutes, she started to fidget. Hank wasn’t reacting yet and then she saw the light bulb flash. He sat up and leaned forward. She watched him reread the screen and then he looked up at her.
“Shit.”
“You see it, right. It’s not just me.” Glory sighed.
“Yeah. We’ve got a serial killer on our hands.”
“I believe this is most likely an Angel of Death or healthcare serial killer,” Glory clarified. “I’ve gone back eight months so far and the pattern holds.”
“Damn! That’s means at least thirty-two murders!” Hank leaned back and wiped his hands across his face. “I’ll have to call the FBI for this to see if there’s any similar cases”
“Yes.”
“I know the top field agent for Miami. Get this ready and I’ll bring him here to talk to you. You can give him the details so he knows what we’re looking for. Let me know when you’ve hit the first case.”
“I will. Maybe you could get the FBI lab to speed things up a bit?”
“I have no pull there. What are you thinking?” Hank said.
“We’re going to need a task force for this and good press control. This will scare people big time. Maybe Claire was on to something about motive being mercy. Only not family, I think.”
“I think I’ll ask the FBI for a behavioral analyst, if they have one available. Damn, what a mess.”
“I better get back to work and see how many suspicious deaths we’re dealing with. Give me a call and let me know when you’re coming with the agent.” Glory threw her now empty coffee cup into the garbage.
“His name’s Aaron Spencer. I’ll try my best to be here. Right now, I better report to the Captain.” Hank tossed his empty cup after Glory’s. “Thanks for the coffee. Talk to you soon.”
Hank went over the details in his mind on his way to the Captain’s office. If he was going to ask for the resources to form a task force, he’d better have his ducks in a row. He knocked on Captain Harkins’ door.
“Come in,” a deep base voice boomed.
Hank entered and stood before the large man seated at an oversized desk. Captain Harkins looked up over the rims of his bifocals. He hated the damn things, but he needed them to read. He looked at Hank, pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve the pressure. “What’s up?” He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his slightly enlarged gut.
“I’ve just come from the medical examiner’s office. We have a big problem,” Hank said.
“Oh?”
“As of now, we have a possible thirty-two murders. Dr.Vandenburg has a suspicion there’s a serial killer targeting terminally ill patients.”
“Aren’t you working on the nurse’s case...uh, Carstairs? She wasn’t terminally ill.”
“Yes, sir. We think they’re related. There’s a theory that Carstairs was killed because she surprised someone with the Thomas woman.”
“How does that add up to thirty-two murders?” Harkins leaned forward.
“Ms. Vandenburg has identified a pattern of weekly deaths occurring at about the same time as the victims. Every Tuesday roughly between 6 and 7 pm, a terminally ill patient dies of a possible cardiovascular cause.”
“Possible?”
“Well, sir, since the victims were terminally ill, few were autopsied. However, Glory, um...Dr. Vandenburg said the pattern is repeated too regularly to be chance. She’s still working back to see when the pattern started. She’s only got back as far as 8 months.”
“And you buy this?”
“I do, Captain. Glory is one smart lady and very level headed. And, frankly, I’ve come up empty with any theory or suspect in the Carstairs’ case. I’d like to request some additional resources to work on this.”
“Very well. You can pick a small team for now till you show me some definitive evidence that this is a serial case and not just coincidence.” Harkins picked up his glasses and gingerly put them on.
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Hank said.
“Neither do I. Dismissed.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hank filled in Detective Browder on the information Glory had supplied. Since the deaths occurred at multiple facilities, he sent Browder to get subpoenas for the medical records and to collect the records he could get his hands on. Hank placed a call to Aaron at the FBI and had to leave a message. Fortunately, Aaron called back ten minutes later.
“Hey, Hank, What’s up. Ready to lose some money?” Aaron was part of the monthly poker games and he was damn lucky...best bluffer in the bunch. Hank told him the basics and asked for him to meet at Glory’s office for the full rundown.
“I have to finish up something here, but I can meet you there in an hour,” Aaron said.
“See you there.”
Glory was engrossed in the computer screen and making notes when Casey stuck her head in the door.
“There’s an FBI agent, Aaron Spencer, out here who would like to speak to you.” Casey wiggled her eyebrows and smiled. “Hubba, hubba,” she whispered.
“Send him in,” Glory said with a shake of her head, but when Aaron entered, she had to agree. He was six feet of sexy man with dark brown hair touched by a hint of gray and the greenest eyes Glory had ever seen. His shoulders filled out his suit coat and he walked with athletic grace.
“Ms. Vandenburg?” he said with a rich tenor voice.
“Please, call me Glory.” The two shook hands. She liked his dry, rough palm. Spoke of a man who could work with his hands. They assessed each other for a moment before Casey reappeared at the door.
“Detective Garcia is here,” Casey said not taking her eyes off Aaron.
“Well, let him in.” Glory grabbed two chairs putting one on either side of hers and pulled up her file of collated data. “Grab us some coffee, Casey.”
“Black for me,” said Aaron.
“Ditto,” said Hank as he walked into the room.
Both men sat down and looked at the monitor. Glory grabbed her notes and began the presentation like she was in court.
“A few weeks ago, I got a gut feeling that something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.”
“What brought it on?” Aaron said.
“Don’t know. Statistics, maybe. Just a feeling.” Glory could only shrug her shoulders. “Can’t believe it took me this long to notice something.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Most people wouldn’t notice at all,” Hank said.
“How many months are we talking about exactly?” Aaron said.
“Unlucky thirteen, as of today. That’s when the first death occurs that fits the pattern.”
“What do you mean by pattern?” Spencer said.
Glory scrolled down her screen and picked up her notes. Casey came in with the coffee so Glory stopped speaking. Casey was too big a gossip. Glory didn’t want any of this information making its way out of the office. Casey passed out the coffee cups and Glory said, “That’ll be all.” Casey mumbled her way out of the room.
“What I’m seeing is every Tuesday evening approximately between 6 and 7 pm there is a death of a terminally ill patient. The probable cause of death is cardiovascular due to the sudden nature of the events. Unfortunately, there were only a few autopsies, but they all said cardiovascular.”
“What facility is being hit?”
“That’s another thing. The deaths have occurred in at least 4 hospitals and 3 nursing home centers. It’s not the place, it’s the time and cause that’s alike.”
Aaron thought for a minute as he sipped his coffee. He looked at her notes and had to admit he’d never have seen this as a pattern. If it hadn’t been for poor Mary Carstairs, this could have gone on for years. “If this is murder, how is it being done?”
“We have no idea, yet. Our lab has come up empty, so we sent some samples to the FBI lab.”
“That’s where we hoped you could help,” Hank said. “Could you speed up the process?”
“Maybe, if I tell them serial killer. I’ll have to make a call.”
“If that doesn’t work, we can send some specimens to a lab that handles exotic substances. We just thought the FBI would have a larger data base of possible poisons.”
“How are the victims selected?”
“We don’t know,” Hank said.
“Other than a terminal illness, are there any similarities between victims?”
“We don’t know.”
“Any persons in common with the victims?”
“We don’t know.”
“I guess I’ll stop asking,” Aaron said with a smile.
“Look, man,” Hank said, “we just found out there was a crime. Give us a break.”
“Okay...okay. I’ll see what I can do. Anything else?”
“Yeah, we’d like to know if there were any similar crimes anywhere else,” Hank said.
“Okay. Can I have a copy of your notes?”
“And a behavioral analyst would be nice,” Glory added. She printed her notes and handed the papers to Spencer and Hank.
“That may be a little harder when this isn’t our investigation, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Aaron. I’ll take any help I can get, but this is my baby.” Hank wasn’t about to let the FBI or anyone take over his case. If Hank had been a dog, he would have been a pitbull. Hank would look over the notes and hopefully Browder would have some of the medical records for him to start going over. The count was at a possible fifty-two. Heaven help them, there could be more.
When Hank got back to the office, he found his desk buried in chart copies. Detective Browder had a busy day. With a sigh and another cup of coffee, he sat down to read and take notes. He looked for any reoccurring themes. They already knew different facilities were hit, now to see if there were any common denominators in the deaths. Hank gathered what information he had and headed for the Captain’s office. His team needed a few more players.
Hours later, Hank looked up to see that quitting time had come and gone. He wished he had something to show for it. The doctors were different, the nurses different, the diagnosis varied. The only constant was that the prognosis for every patient was terminal. His vision was blurred and a headache threatened. Time to get away from this. He locked the records into his file cabinet and headed out. A cold beer would taste good right now. He thought of Claire’s comment the other night. Was he drinking too much. Bullshit! He headed for the garage. His cell rang.
“Yeah.”
“Aaron, here. I talked with the director and he said we’ll send an analyst. I can help some between my cases if you need.”
“That’s great. I’m getting nowhere fast going through these records. I’m no doctor. Hey, I’m heading for O’Malleys if you’d like to join me.” Hank opened the door to his battered old Chevy and dropped into the driver’s seat. He looked around at the debris. One of these days he had to clean the shit out of here. Fast food bags and empty soda cans cluttered the back.
“Sounds good. See you in a few.”
O’Malley’s wasn’t busy so Hank had his choice of tables. He picked up a beer at the bar then headed to the back and slid into a booth. Aaron showed up a few minutes later. Bringing his bottle to the table, Aaron sat across from Hank.
“Not having a good day?” Aaron asked as he took a long pull on his bottle.
“Hell, no. I’ve been through a mountain of records and I’ve come up with zip. The only common thread is the terminal diagnosis.”
“So, we start with that.” Aaron leaned forward. “The analyst will be here tomorrow. Name’s Candace Adams. She’s good, a little different, but good.”
“Different how?” Hank asked.
“No filters. Says exactly what she means and doesn’t care about the consequences.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“Just you wait.” Aaron paused for a moment then leaned back. “What’s the story with Glory?”
“Story? What do you mean?” Hank smiled. He could see the interest in Aaron’s eyes.
“Well, tell me about her. She married or with someone?”
“Not with anyone now. Don’t think she’s ever been married...that I know of. I’ve known her for about five years. She’s focused. Became head Medical Examiner a year ago. That’s pretty much it.”
“I see.”
“You interested?” Hank signaled for another beer. Aaron signalled no thanks.
“Maybe. How about you? Thought you were hot for the prosecutor. What’s her name?”
“Claire Franks.”
“So, how’s it going?”
“It isn’t.” Hank took a swig from the new bottle.
“What’s the problem?”
“Not sure. I think she thinks I have a drinking problem.”
“Not that I’ve ever noticed. We’ve played poker for about a year now since I was transferred here. You’re sober as a judge,” Aaron said. “Maybe it’s time to take the bull by the horns and ask the woman out. You won’t know until you do.” Aaron finished off his beer and stood.
“Yeah...you’re right. Maybe I will.”
CHAPTER 8
“Good morning, Hank,” Aaron said. “I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Candace Adams, Analyst par excellence. Dr. Adams, this is Lieutenant Garcia and Dectective Browder.”
Hank stood to shake the hand of stunning, if somewhat hard appearing psychologist. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Really? Under the circumstances, I hardly think so.” Dr. Adams looked around the office. Looked liked every other cop shop she’d been in for the last 6 years. Cluttered metal desks manned by disheveled harried officers. She wondered if it would ever change.
“Yes...well...I see your point. But thanks for coming anyway.” Hank was a little lost for words. He knew Aaron had said she was different, but he thought she’d be a little more diplomatic since she was a shrink.
“Aaron here tells me you think you have a serial killer. May I see the file, now?” Dr. Adams held out a perfectly manicured hand with the brightest blood red nails Hank had seen except on a hooker.
“There isn’t much of a file as yet. We’re compiling a list of suspected victims at present. The only confirmed murder we have is a nurse at Miami General by the name of Mary Carstairs. Here’s her file.”
Dr. Adams took the file and sat in Hank’s chair to look through the information. The file was thin so it didn’t take long. “This is all you have?” Dr. Adams said. “You’re right, it’s not much. “Cardiovascular...cause unknown, doesn’t give me much to go on. Who did the autopsy?”
“Dr. Anderson at Miami-Dade Medical Examiner’s office,” Hank said.
“He any good?”
“Glory says he’s the best.”
“Well, I’m not impressed so far. Who’s this Glory?”
“She’s the Chief Medical Examiner. She’s the one who believes there’s a healthcare serial killer operating for over a year now.”
“A year! And someone is just now catching on? I want to speak with her directly. Tell her I’m on my way. Come on, Aaron, you get to chauffeur.” Dr. Adams turned her back and walked out the door. Aaron just rolled his eyes. “Told you,” he muttered as he followed her out the door.
“Holy shit. Is she for real?” Browder walked over and sat on the corner of Hank’s desk.
“Aaron says she’s good.”
“With that attitude, she better be a damn genius.”
“And I better call Glory and give her a head’s up.” Hank picked up his phone.
“Boss, the FBI hunk and some witchy woman are here to see you,” Casey said sticking her head in the doorway.
“Casey, let them in and watch the comments, please.”
Casey rolled her eyes and backed out the door. Glory cleared off her work and started to pull up her file on the computer screen. The door opened again and Aaron came in holding the door for a tall lean woman with an air of confidence. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back into a complicated twist with not a hair out of place. Glory was sure no hair would dare. Her oval face had clear perfect skin, high cheek bones and ice blue eyes.
“Welcome to Miami, Dr. Adams,” Glory stood and held out her hand. The woman grasped Glory’s hand in a firm, no nonsense shake.
“Thank you, Dr. Vandenburg.”
“Please, call me Glory.”
“Very well...Glory. You may call me Candace.”
“Thank you for coming, Candace. Hank says you’re ready to get right to it, so let me show you what I’ve got.” Glory pulled a chair next to her seat and opened the file.
“I’ve been tracing back and this is what I’ve come up with.” Glory posted her file and sat back to give Candace a chance to look it over.
“This is unbelievable.” Candace leaned back in her chair. “And you’ve been unable to pinpoint actual cause of death other than cardiovascular?”
“That’s right.”
“If this is a HSK, the most common weapon is potassium or insulin. Both affect the heart. Can I see the body or at least speak with the medical examiner?” Candace said.
“Sure can. In fact, your timing is good as Mary Carstairs is supposed to be picked up later today. Her husband’s been quite insistent. They’re probably getting ready to clean the body as we speak. Follow me.” Glory headed down to autopsy with Candace and Aaron trailing behind her.
Dr. Anderson was just cleaning up from a previous autopsy when they arrived at the lab. He finished washing up and led them to a room where Mary was on a stretcher ready for cleanup.
“Wait a minute, guys. Can you stop? We need to see the body.” Dr. Anderson said.
“Sure, Doc.” The attendant pulled up the sheet, took off his gloves and backed away from the table tripping over the stretcher wheel causing one of Mary’s arms to fall off the surface.
“Oh, sorry,” he muttered. He picked up her arm, laid it back on the stretcher and tucked the sheet under the arm. He stepped back as the group approached.
Glory partially pulled back the sheet and they viewed the young woman. Dr. Anderson picked up his chart and prepared to go over his notes. The group was surprised when the attendant gasped, clutched his chest and fell to the floor.
“What the...?”Aaron said.
Glory and Anderson rushed to initiate CPR. “Call 911!” Glory shouted but, despite their best efforts and the arrival of the paramedics, the attendant didn’t make it.
“What the hell’s going on?” Aaron said later as the group sat in the autopsy lounge area. “He was young.”
“I don’t understand this,” Glory said, “but I sure as hell am not letting Mary Carstairs body go.”
“What does that have to do with this?” Candace asked.
“That attendant died within a minute of touching her body...of possibly the same cause. Something has to be causing this. We just gotta find out what.”
“Haven’t others touched the body?” Aaron asked.
“Yes, we did,” said Anderson, “but we wore gloves.”
“So, this means something is on the skin?” Candace said.
“I think so.” Glory looked at Anderson. “I want her gone over with a fine tooth comb. We missed something. I’ll just have to tell the family she can’t be released as yet. Let’s go back to my office and let Anderson get to work.”
Back in her office Glory flopped into chair and looked at the other two standing in front of her desk. “I’ll copy the file for you to look over.” Glory rubbed her forehead then typed in the command. A headache was blossoming. Come to think of it, she hadn’t had any coffee since this morning. “Casey,” Glory said into her intercom, “bring us some coffee.”
“None for us, thanks. We have to get back.” Aaron took the proffered flashdrive.
“Sorry for your loss,” Candace said. “This must be upsetting.”
“Yes, it is. How do I tell his parents he died because he touched a body. His name was Parker Forman, a student with a bright future.” Glory leaned back. “Anderson will do the autopsy and let’s hope cause of death is identified. I think I’ll head back down to autopsy and see what’s happening. We’ll be in touch when the results are done.”
“Good luck.” Candace stood to leave. “I’ll look over the file and see what I can come up with.”
After Aaron and Candace left, Glory headed back to the autopsy room. Anderson was masked, gowned, gloved and true to her order, was going over Mary Carstairs with a magnifying glass. Glory gowned up and joined him.
“Anything?” Glory asked as she entered the lab.
“I’m not sure, but I took some scrapings from her arm and a little something came off the right forearm. Same arm that Parker touched. Still can’t believe it. It was so damn fast. What could work that fast off a simple touch?”Anderson said.
“I don’t know. We need answers sooner rather than later. I need to do some research on this. How much did you get?”
“Miniscule. The FBI lab has some of the earlier samples so we should give them the skin scrapings we have already.”
“Thanks, Phil. I’ll get out of your way. “ Glory took off her cover and went back to her office. She got the file on Parker and wrote down the address of his parents.
“Casey, I’m heading out and won’t be back today.”
A subdued Casey nodded. “I’m so sorry boss. Parker was a nice guy.”
“Thanks.”
Telling parents their son was dead was a nightmare. She stayed as long as she could, but couldn’t answer any of their questions. Exhausted, she said her goodbyes and left the family to the care of their priest.
Piwacket and Nemo sang their usual chorus the moment Glory stepped in the door. “Sorry, guys. I know I’m late. How about a special treat.” Both cats ran into the kitchen letting her know they agreed with the payoff. She opened a can of tuna, added a few flakes to their regular dinner, and after pouring a glass of merlot, collapsed in her chair by the window. The headache was still threatening. She just wanted a quiet night.
Glory’s mind couldn’t seem to settle. She pulled her laptop over and opened the lid. She
started typing a search into poisons. She needed to identify rapid-acting poisons with cardiovascular action. Aconite from the plant monkshood caused cardiac arrhythmia leading to asphyxia. Death could happen by even touching the leaves. The poison was rapid acting and undetectable. Glory started a list. Many she could eliminate because they needed to be ingested, others because of the quantity needed.
She read for about an hour till the headache finally blossomed. She closed the lid and decided to go to bed. The lab would have their hands full, she thought as she turned off the lights.
CHAPTER 9
Damn, Glory woke and sat straight up in bed. The clock said 6 a.m., so she jumped up and headed for the shower. She neglected to ask Anderson to go over the Thomas woman and see if anything was found on her skin. She went directly to Anderson’s office the moment she entered the building. He was just unlocking his door as she walked down the hall.
“Morning, Glory.” Phil smirked at his almost original joke. “What brings you down this morning? I didn’t think the boss had to come to work so early.”
“Ha, ha,” Glory said and got right to the point. “I want you to look over the Thomas woman again and see if you can find anything on her skin.”
“Already did. Couldn’t find a thing on the skin, but I think I may have found something in her mouth. The left side of the mucous membrane was reddened and slightly irritated looking so I scraped the area. Didn’t get much, but it was more than what I had. The specimens are all labeled and ready to go if you’ve decided where you want to send them.”
“Send Carstairs’ scraping on to the FBI. This is something way different, so we’ll need a bigger database to identify the poison.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it. Talk to you later.”
Glory spent the day catching up with her regular duties. She had to admit to being nervous. Waiting for Tuesday and another murder felt wrong. But, she couldn’t think of any other option. Poor Hank. He must feel the same.
Hank did feel the same. He sat at his desk going over the last of the files and hoping for inspiration to hit. Somehow, the killer was getting information on all these patients. If he could just figure from where that would give him a starting point.
***
When you thought of yourself as ’Mercy’, that described who you were. Mercy was on a mission to alleviate suffering. Reading the paper and learning about Mary Carstairs was painful. One had to accept collateral damage given the nature of the mission. There were always people around that could get in the way, but it was damn hard to accept the death of a mother of three. Mercy knew an innocent family had been hurt.
Everything was going so smooth, perhaps one got careless. Mercy looked at the list of patients that needed help. Must keep focused on the mission. Must remember why I started this in the first place. Every battle has its victims. I need to learn from this so it’ll never happen again.
Mercy looked over the data and selected a new patient. Best to avoid Miami General for awhile. There were plenty of other facilities to choose from where personnel would not have increased their vigilance. Needing to gather a new swab, the last having been used up, Mercy entered the lab and looked into the cages.
“Now, my little darlings, which of you would like to be next?”
***
Wednesday morning found Glory behind her desk waiting for the death reports to arrive. She felt almost sick with anticipation. If there was another suspicious death, she would feel guilty. If there wasn’t, she felt guilty for feeling that the lack would impede the investigation. How sick is that?
“Casey,” Glory spoke over her intercom, “have you gotten the list of deaths for yesterday?”
“Almost ready, boss. Just waiting for a couple hospital’s reports.”
“Bring in what you have.” Glory drained her coffee cup and put it on the edge of her desk, her signal to Casey for a refill.
Casey walked in and handed the folder to Glory. “Why the rush, boss?” She knew something was up and she’d snoop till she found out what.
“Just have a busy day is all. Thank you.” With the obvious dismissal, Casey grabbed the cup and pouted her way out the door.
Glory looked through the certificates and noted the times. Four terminal patients died yesterday, two in a hospice care facility, one at home , and one in a nursing home. She looked through the specifics and elimated the one at home, none of the previous victims had been in their home. The other two were in the morning and didn’t fit the timeline Glory thought was important. But last night, between 6 and 7 PM, thirty-three year old Barry Lightner passed. The cause of death was listed as complications of Muscular Dystrophy. Barry had suffered with an aggressive form of MD called Duchennes.
Glory flagged the deceased to be held for autopsy. “Casey, get me the number for the next of kin on Barry Lightner.” She called down to Anderson and told him her plan.
“Do we have permission for an autopsy?” Anderson asked.
“I’ll be getting it today. I’m hoping there won’t be an issue.”
“Let me know.” Anderson signed off.
Getting permission turned out to be an ordeal. The parents couldn’t understand the reason for Glory’s request. They thought their son had suffered enough and should be left in peace. Glory had no option but to say there was a possibility of an error or foul play being involved.
“Who would have hurt my poor Barry?” Mrs Lightner sobbed. “That doesn’t make sense. Even if a mistake was made, knowing it would make no difference now. Barry was dying. He’s been dying since he was diagnosed. Can’t we just let him be?”
“Please, Mr. and Mrs. Lightner, I wouldn’t ask unless I felt it was important. I’d prefer to do this with your consent. It could prevent another death.”
The grieving parents finally agreed and Glory made the arrangements to have Barry Lightner’s body sent for autopsy.
The rest of the day passed in the usual fashion, but Glory felt drained. Dealing with grieving parents was never easy. She called Claire and asked her to meet her at O’Malley’s at 6. Claire could always help her to unwind, and she also took a risk and left a message for Hank to join them. There was one strike, time for another pitch.
Chapter 10
“That FBI lady is here to see you,” Casey announced through the intercom the next morning.
“Send her in.” Glory set aside her work and leaned back in her chair to release the sore muscles. She was surprised at how much stress she was feeling. The evening with Claire and Hank hadn’t relaxed her at all. Watching Claire and Hank circle each other was tiring. At least there were no fireworks. The door opened and a cool, calm and very collected Candace walked into the office.
“Morning,” Candace smiled. “Notice I did not say ’good.’
“Yes. Please take a seat. Would you like some coffee?”
“That would be appreciated.” Candace opened her briefcase and pulled out a folder. “I’ve already given a copy to what’s his name...Hank. Thought you’d like a copy.”
“Thank you, yes I would. Does Hank have any ideas how to proceed with this investigation?”
“Aaron is doing a search nationwide for any similar cases through the FBI database, but I can tell you there isn’t or I would have heard of it. I do keep abreast of my field. You know the old saying...”
“What?” Glory asked.
“That a woman has to be twice as good as a man to prove she’s half as good. Luckily that’s not that hard.”
“Well...I’m not sure I can agree with you, but why don’t we go over your file.”
“You don’t agree because you don’t work for a ’good ole boys’ club like the FBI.” Candace opened the file and started the profile.
“Most mercy killers have a grandiose sense of their own importance. They’re on a mission that only they are intelligent and resourceful enough to achieve. In this case, I could almost agree with him. He’s been intelligent enough to carry on his mission for a year or more and hasn’t, so far as we can determine, succumbed to the temptation of accelerating his mission.”
“Accelerating?” Glory said.
“Yes. Most serial killers begin to speed up the process. Your killer has stayed with a set time schedule that leads me to believe there is a special significance to the time. Perhaps the incident that triggered this behavior.”
“And you think it’s a man.”
“Poison is usually thought of as a woman’s weapon. It’s not messy. It’s non-confrontational...no strength required. It’s cunning and creative and one has a good chance of getting away with it. This person was a spoiled child or had an unhappy childhood. Had a strong fantasy life. I would suggest someone in the medical field, if not a healthcare worker, a related field that knows how the institutions function and how to get in and around unnoticed. You can read the rest of my report as you wish.”
“I can’t believe you came up with so much,” Glory said as she skimmed through the report.
“It may not help much if you don’t come up with some evidence to point the boys in the right direction.”
“If we could identify the poison...”
“That would be nice, but now I must be off. I was wondering if you would like to join me for lunch?” Candace said as she closed her briefcase.
Startled, Glory looked up into Candace’s bright blue eyes. Something in her gaze made Glory squirm. Oh, my, she thought.
“Um...thank you, but I already have plans.”
“Oh, well. Anyplace you can recommend?”
“If you like Mexican, Pepe’s is my favorite and right around the corner. The best deli in the area is Martini’s by the park.”
“A sandwich in the park sounds good. Love your Miami weather.” Candace closed her briefcase and stood. Message received...not interested. “Goodbye.” Candace turned and was gone before Glory could respond.
“I didn’t handle that very well,” Glory said to her fern and turned back to finish the profile.
At Martini’s, Candace placed her order and looked around. The clientel was a mixed bag of people, but one man caught her eye. Tall, lanky with broad shoulders and hair in need of care, he appealed to her. Miami needed some fun and he looked like fun. She watched him until he glanced up and caught her gaze. She smiled.
Toby ’Mac’ MacEnery saw the tall blonde’s interest. Something was familiar about her. His memory was excellent and he knew her name would come to him. He grabbed his order and walked over to her.
“Hi,” he said. “Do I know you?”
“Don’t see how that’s possible. Don’t live here.”
“Just thought you looked familiar. Sorry to bother you.” Mac turned to leave.
“You’re not bothering me. In fact, I was hoping you’d join me for lunch in the park. Like I said...don’t live here and don’t know many people. I don’t like to eat alone.”
Mac looked at his watch. “Sounds okay to me. I don’t have any plans till later. Name’s Mac.”
He held out his hand.
“Candace,” Candace smiled and shook his hand and held it just slightly longer than necesssary. “Just let me get my order and we can walk over.”
Mac went and stood by the door until she grabbed her bag and paid. They walked to the park and talked smalltalk till they found an empty table and started eating.
“What brings you to Miami?” Mac said taking a large bite of his pastrami.
“Consulting,” Candace replied.
As soon as she said that the light bulb flashed in his brain. She was an FBI consultant. He had seen her in an interview a couple months ago on a case in Philadelphia. Something was going on in Miami that as a freelance reporter, he would love to get inside info on, but if he told her his job, he could kiss her goodbye, so he decided he’d be his brother-in-law.
“What about you?” Candace asked.
“I’m a veterinarian at the zoo.”
“How interesting. Do you specialize?”
“Yes, big cats are my focus, but I do others.”
“You didn’t have to work today? No poor sick kitties?” Candace licked some mayonnaise off her finger with deliberate care never taking her eyes off Mac.
Mac watched her and the intensity of her gaze made it hard to swallow. He cleared his throat.
“Nothing pressing today. Even vets get a day off.”
“I just love the big cats. Any chance of a private tour?”
“Not really. The zoo makes it hard to do any private tours. Legal issues, you know.”
“Do you make housecalls?” Candace traced her fingers down his arm.
“I guess I could. Do you have a...a sick cat?”
“Maybe. Pussy’s been feeling poorly for a few days now and needs attention. It must have been fate that we met today. Could I impose upon you?”
“I’d be glad to help.” Mac stood and took Candace’s hand. “My car is right over there.”
“Purrfect.” Candace laughed.
Mac was sleeping as Candace got up and dressed. She picked up his pants and found his wallet smiling as she went through his cards. Stupid S.O.B, she thought. Did he really think she was dumb enough to fall for his crap. She found what she was looking for and shook her head. A reporter should be a better liar. His attempts to question her were almost laughable.
“Hey, Mac, wake up.” Candace sat by the bed and watched as the reporter’s eyes opened. “I’ve got a meeting for dinner. You gotta go.”
Mac smiled. Maybe he didn’t get the information he was looking for, but Candace sure knew her way around. The bedroom acrobatics had worn him out and she sat there all bright eyed and bushy tailed.
“Any plans for tonight? We could get together after your meeting is over.”
“No, thanks. You won’t find out anything more tonight than you did today.”
“What...what do you mean?” Mac was feeling a little slow. He was sure he hadn’t made any slips.
“Did you really think I didn’t know you were a liar? I can spot a phony a mile away and brother, you are a phony. Now get dressed. The interlude is over.”
Mac got up as Candace left the bedroom. He couldn’t believe he had blown his chance. Shit! After pulling on his pants and shirt, he walked into the living room and saw her at the bar pouring a glass of wine.
“So, you knew I was a reporter? How?”
“You kept asking the same questions. I checked your wallet and found your press card. You didn’t have to lie, you know.” Candace sipped her wine.
“Would it have made a difference? Would you have told me what you’re doing in Miami?”
“Hell, no. I don’t discuss my consults with anyone but the paying customers. But, thanks for the afternoon. It wasn’t bad.”
Mac was speechless. She’d played him well. Live and learn, Mac, he thought. Live and learn. He tucked his shirt into his pants.
“Thanks for the lesson,” he said walking to the door.
“No charge.
Chapter 11
Friday morning found Glory at her desk remembering Wednesday’s group at O’Malleys. Hank had brought Aaron with him and Glory had to admit, he was a fine looking man. Hank and Claire had circled each other, but at least there were no fire works if you didn’t count the gleam in Hank’s eyes. Claire couldn’t have missed that!
Speaking of a gleam in someone’s eyes, Aaron was making his interest known. Glory smiled. When the guys had mentioned the upcoming poker game, she’d talked herself into a slot vacated by a vacationing regular. She couldn’t wait for a chance to test her skills against someone other than her brothers. The phone rang breaking into her thoughts.
“Glory?” Aaron’s voice was a welcome interruption.
“Morning, Aaron. What’s up?”
“I was just wondering if you’d like a ride to the game tomorrow night?”
“That would be great. What time?”
“We start at 8 pm sharp, so I’ll pick you up at 7.”
After giving Aaron her address, she hung up and got back to work. She tried searches on poisons based on symptoms and got no new information. The FBI hadn’t got back with Hank yet on similar cases, so she began a search for mercy killers. Poison and medication overdoses seemed the most popular choice of weapon. She thought perhaps something new was out there and put a call into the University Pharmaceutical Research Lab.
After being on hold and transferred twice, Glory finally reached the Director of Research. She made an appointment for that afternoon to speak with him, then broke for lunch. Over her usual salad and roll, she wrote some notes on questions she wanted to ask. When she finished both, she headed for her car. The University Pharmaceutical Lab was only a short drive away, but she didn’t want to be late for the meeting time and Miami traffic could be a pain.
The building was a large four story modern steel and glass structure not far from the ocean. The view from the top floor must be great. Glory parked in the guest parking slots outside the front doors and walked to the check-in counter. A hefty middle-aged guard took her name and after checking the appointment list, gave her a visitor’s badge. He directed her to an elevator and told her the Director was on the fourth floor. A secretary was waiting and guided her to his office. With a soft knock on the door, Glory was ushered in, introduced to Director Adam Trent, and offered a seat.
“Thank you for seeing me so quickly,” Glory said shaking Trent’s hand then sitting down. The corner office was elegant but functional. “We appreciate you taking the time.”
“You made it clear that this was an urgent matter,” Adam Trent said. He leaned back in his chair and assessed Glory. “You look a little young to be Chief Medical Examiner.”
“Thank you, I appreciate the compliment. What I tell you today needs to be kept confidential. You’ll understand our reasons when you hear what’s happening. Is that agreeable?” After his nod, Glory gave a concise report on the deaths and victim profiles. She detailed symptoms and autopsy results then paused to let Trent consider the possibilities.
“The labs haven’t come back with anything?”
“Our lab found nothing and the FBI lab hasn’t gotten back with anything. That makes me think we’re dealing with something very off the wall or perhaps new...maybe a new drug.”
Trent sat up in his seat. “So...we’re now suspects? How interesting. I thought you came here for our help not to be questioned as a suspect.” Trent frowned.
“I wasn’t suggesting that. If you were a suspect, I wouldn’t give you this information. I’m asking for your help. You’d know what research is going on out there and what biological elements were being investigated. I’d think anyone of good conscience would want to help.”
“So, now I’m not a man of good conscience. Interesting.”
“I’m sorry. I can see we aren’t starting off on the best of terms. Nothing that I’ve said is directed at you personally, so I wish you would stop taking it as such.” Glory leaned forward. “Are you going to help?”
“I guess I must...as a man of good conscience. Come with me.” Trent got up and led Glory back out a side door of his office and down a long corridor. With a swipe of his keycard, they entered an elevator and descended to the third floor.
They walked in silence making Glory feel like a recalcitant student being lead to the principal’s office. She didn’t like this pompous S.O.B. When they turned another corner, Trent stopped in front of a door marked Lab 4. With another swipe of his keycard, they entered.
Glory found herself in a large lab, strangely silent for the number of white-coated personnel working.
“Dr. Trent...what can I do for you?” a tall woman approached holding out her hand.
“Where’s Dr. Jeffries?” Trent shook the proffered hand and looked around the lab.
“He’s gone for this week. Illness in the family. I’m in charge temporarily.”
“Oh, well, this is Dr. Vandenburg and she has some questions. Would you please take the time to assist her. I have other matters to attend to.” Without waiting for a response, Trent turned and left.
“I apologize for the disruption, but it is important,” Glory said.
“I’ll be happy to help. And don’t let Dr. Trent put you off. He’s brilliant, but not the most gracious. Now, how can I help?”
“I’m doing a little research I was hoping you could assist me with. Something out of the ordinary.”
“Well, you’ve succeeded in capturing my imagination, Ms Vandenburg. And by the way, I’m Angela Davies, research assistant. Now what are you investigating?”
“Please, call me Glory.”
“Angela.”
“We have an exotic poison that the labs so far have been unable to identify. I was hoping that perhaps, your lab would have resources and knowledge not available elsewhere.”
“Do you know any particulars, such as delivery, speed of action, symptoms? Is it a toxin or venom?” Angela led Glory to her desk and motioned her into a chair. Angela turned on her screen and sat back expectant.
“Yes, actually I can as I witnessed one event.” Glory took a deep breath. She would never forget the image of Parker as he fell to the floor. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and gave Angela a conscise description of what she witnessed.
“So, it’s not a venom since a venom is injected into it’s victim by bite or sting, such as a snake or spider. It’s a toxin meaning it’s produced by an organism in nature. Even though delivery method is different, they both work by causing a disturbance in the chemical reaction or other activity on the molecular scale. Everything can be a poison, Glory. It’s all a matter of quantity. There are numerous toxins we are working on here that are deadly, but have potential to be of great assistance. Some for non-addictive pain control, some for treating cancers, and some even cardiac. Foxglove is a poison, but also the source of digitalis, an important cardiac medication. So...how could we help narrow this down?”
“Everything can be a poison?” Glory leaned forward.
“Everything...including water. The toxin you described is extreme. Very small amount and very little time. What does the autopsy give as cause of death?” Angela opened her screen.
“Cardiovascular. The heart just fibrillated and stopped.”
“I’m not sure I can be of help without more information,” Angela said.
“Could your lab do an analysis for us?” Glory said.
“I would have to get the Director’s approval for anything like that. Also, as you heard, Dr. Jeffries is out this week. So, I can’t answer that question.”
“It’s theoretical at this time since we have only a miniscule specimen and it was already sent out to the FBI lab. Can I call you if we get further material?” Glory smiled as she handed her business card to Angela..
“All I can say is that I will ask Dr. Jeffries on his return. But concentrate your research on topical toxins. Plants, amphibians, insects and even birds can produce a toxin that would be deadly if touched. Call me next week and I may have an answer to our helping.” Angela handed Glory her contact information.
Angela walked Glory out to the public access area. Glory left disheartened. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find out, but she was hoping for something. Since it was close to quitting time, Glory checked in with Casey. There were no pressing matters so Glory decided to head home. Better get a good night sleep tonight to be ready for poker tomorrow.
CHAPTER 12
Saturday morning was a time for chores. Glory ran her errands and hit the grocery store. After lunch and a short nap, Glory spent the later afternoon getting ready for the big game. She posed in front of her mirror and rolled her eyes. Maybe, if she dazzled them with her feminine wiles, she’d be able to clean their clocks. She laughed.
Aaron rang the bell precisely at 7. Glory did appreciate promptness. When she opened the door, Aaron’s look of appreciation made her efforts worthwhile. Perhaps, she had a few wiles.
“Do we have time for a drink?” Glory said.
“Not really. If we’re late, they’ll start without us. Traffic’s a little heavy and the house is on the outskirts.” Aaron smiled. “Maybe we should skip the game?” he suggested.
“Not on your life. I’ve wanted into this game ever since Hank told me about it.”
The drive was pleasant. Glory enjoyed Aaron’s sense of humor, dry and understated. They pulled into the circular driveway of a large hacienda style house. The door was opened by Hank himself and they were led to the back of the house. Four other men sat around a table drinking beer and laughing. Silence greeted Glory.
“Hi, guys,” said Aaron. “This is Glory. She’s taking Ron’s spot and says she is going to wipe us out.”
“Thanks a lot,” Glory muttered to Aaron.
“No problem,” Aaron smiled.
“You think your hot shit?” said a large man at the back of the table. “Don’t think cause you’re a hot chick we’ll cut you any slack.”
“Why, thank you.” Glory walked over to him and pulled out the chair next to him. “I’ll sit by you.”
The large man flushed and everyone stifled a laugh.
Hank nudged Aaron. “Never saw Pete shut up so fast. Glory will fit in well tonight.”
“Gentleman,” Glory smiled, “let the games begin.”
One flush, a full house and a bluff later, the men were paying attention.
“Shit, lady, you have the luck of Lucifer,” Pete rumbled.
“Must be beginner’s luck,” Glory said smiling. “I live a good, clean life.”
“I could help you with that,” Stan said with a sneer.
Aaron had never liked Stan, but after a few too many beers, he could be a real jerk. Aaron was fixing to stand up, but Hank held his arm. “Watch this,” Hank muttered.
“Well, aren’t you sweet to offer your assistance, but by the way you play poker, you can’t seem to help yourself. So I’ll just say no, thank you.” Glory smiled.
The rest of the night passed without incident. Glory held her own and finished up ahead by about two hundred.
“Thank you all for letting me take Ron’s place tonight. I had a great...and profitable time. Perhaps, I could join you again sometime in the future, if you’re short a player. Goodnight, gentlemen.”
Aaron and Glory left, and after a brief silence, Stan snarled, “She can come back when hell freezes over.”
“Hell,” Pete roared, “ she’s a better player than you...and a damn sight better to look at.”
Aaron opened the car door for Glory. He walked around and got behind the wheel.
“Where did you learn to play like that?” Aaron said.
“Brothers. I’m the only girl in a large family of boys. It was learn certain skills or die. They won’t ask me back will they?” Glory asked.
“Don’t know. I think they all liked you.”
“Stan?”
“Well, Stan,” Aaron laughed, “he was dropped on his head in childhood. He’s a little off sometimes. But, when he’s sober, he’s less of a jerk.”
“But, still a jerk.”
“Yes, actually. But he’s Pete’s cousin, so we’re stuck.”
“Ah, yes, can’t pick your family. Thanks for tonight, Aaron. I really had a great time. The guys are good guys. Do you want to come up for a nightcap?” Glory asked when they pulled up to her complex.
“I’d like that.”
Glory waved to security and directed Aaron to guest parking. They walked up together laughing about the poker game.
“You have a tell, you know,” Glory said.
“No, I don’t. I’m very careful.”
“I know. That’s your tell.” Glory opened her door.
“Damn! You sure picked it up fast.”
Glory threw her keys into the bowl. “I better warn you about the welcoming committee.”
Aaron followed Glory into the kitchen where two cats sounded their welcome. Glory dished up the food while Aaron scratched demanding felines. “They’re beautiful,” he said. “And very friendly for cats.”
“They love people. We mean food and scratches. Did you catch my tell?” Glory set the dishes on the floor and Pi and Nemo abandoned Aaron.
“No. Couldn’t seem to pin down any one thing.”
“I shouldn’t tell you this,” Glory opened the wine and poured some into the glasses, “but I change it. A different one every time I can.”
“You sure are a devious female. I better be careful around you. I could lose my shirt.”
Glory paused a moment considering how good he’d look. Her stomach clenched into a knot. All she could think of right this moment was holding onto those shoulders. Damn, I shouldn’t have asked him up here. It’s been a long time since...it’s been a long time. Ah, what the hell. Glory put down her drink and walked up to Aaron.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but I really want to kiss you right now.”
“Likewise,” Aaron put down his glass and pulled her against him.
His lips were as firm as his chest and Glory just sank into the sensations. Aaron backed her against the counter and leaned into her. Her arms encircled his shoulders, then his neck. She felt suspended on his strength. After a few minutes, Aaron drew back.
“I think I’d better go now,” he said softly.
“Yes, I think so.”
Aaron gave her a quick kiss at the door. “I want to see you again.”
“Likewise. Call me.”
Chapter 13
Mercy pushed the book cart down the hospital corridor. The dinner trays were already out and most of the personnel were either charting or assisting patients with their meals. This disguise was new and Mercy thought it very effective. Elderly female volunteers easily faded into the background in their pink and yellow vests.
Bradley Schmitt’s room was at the end of the corridor. Mercy glanced in the partially opened door and the room appeared empty, so the cart was slipped in quietly and the door closed.
“Hello,” a soft voice said from the bathroom causing Mercy to jump.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” smiled the young woman. “I was just getting a sip of water for Grandpop. Can I help you/”
Mercy thought quickly and replied, “No, I just wanted to know if you’d like a book or magazine to read. It must get a little lonesome here once and awhile.”
“Why, thank you, I would.” The young woman went to the cart and started looking through the titles. “Do you have any mysteries?”
“Check the bottom shelf.” Mercy said. A hand reached into the vest pocket. The mission must be completed. Gloves were slipped on and the pouch opened as the woman knelt with her back to Bradley. Speed was necessary so the prayer was by thought only as Mercy deployed the swab on the sleeping man’s underarm instead of the inside of his mouth and replaced it into the vest pocket. The gloves were removed and thrown into the red contaminated waste bin just as the woman stood up, book in hand.
“I found a good one. Thanks.”
“So sorry for everything you’re going through,” Mercy said. “He must have been a handsome young man.”
“Thank you, he was.”
“Well, I best be on with my rounds. Take care.” Mercy pushed the cart out of the room, but only reached the next door before a scream was heard. Walking fast enough to leave the area but not draw attention, Mercy made it to the elevator. Personnel ran into the room at the end of the hall and Mercy could hear the young woman’s sobs. Adrenaline was pumping.This was an exciting release. Mercy smiled as the elevator door closed.
***
“We have another one.” Glory told Hank after checking the morning stats. “I’ll have Dr. Anderson start on the autopsy immediately.”
“What facility,” Hank asked.
“Miami General, again. Are you going to head over there now?”
“Yeah.”
“I hope something remains from last night. It was an expected death, so I doubt the room was preserved.” Glory signed the order to have the body sent to autopsy and shuttered at the thought of asking next of kin for consent.
Hank went to the hospital, but the room was a wash. It had been scrubbed, cleaned and already had a new resident. He needed to find a way to preserve the scenes without causing a panic. He spoke to the floor supervisor and got the name of the nurse in charge of Mr. Schmitt’s care. Since she was off today, he drove to her home. The interview didn’t reveal much, but for the first time, there was a witness. Hank located the granddaughter’s address and headed over.
The apartment complex was small but well-kept. Hank knocked on the door of 2-B and waited. A few minutes passed before the door opened and a puffy-eyed young woman opened the door.
“Yes,” she said.
“Ms. Schmitt, I am Detective Hank Garcia.” He flashed his credentials. I would like to talk to you for a moment about your grandfather’s death.”
“Detective? I don’t understand.”
“May I please come in and explain it to you?”
“Oh, of course. Please come in,” the young woman gestured Hank into the living room. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you.” Hank took the seat offered. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Schmitt.”
“Please call me Alli. Ms. Schmitt is my mother.” Alli took the chair across from Hank. “Now, what’s this all about?”
“I am sorry to tell you this, but there is a possibility that your grandfather’s death was not natural.” Hank watched the confusion on Alli’s face.
“Not natural? Of course, it was. He’d been terminal for months now. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was there. I saw his heart stop.”
“Would you please tell me everything that happened just before he died?” Hank took out a recorder and placed it on the table.
“I don’t understand. Am I suspected of doing something to my grandfather?” Alli motioned to the recorder and jumped to her feet. “I loved my grandfather. How dare you come in here...”
“Alli, please, you are not any kind of suspect. The recorder is only a formality to record your account of what happened.”
Alli looked shaken, but sat back down in her chair. “Okay, I guess.”
“Can you tell me about the hour before your grandfather died?” Hank switched the recorder on. “Well, I was sitting with Pop as I usually do on Tuesdays after class.”
“Class?”
“I’m a junior at the University. I get out a little early on Tuesdays and like to spend time with Pop. I read to him sometimes, or play some of his favorite music, you know.”
“Was there anything different yesterday?” Hank said.
“Not really. His nurse had just finished giving him his tube feeding and I was just hanging.”
“Were you acquainted with the nurse?”
“Grace? Yeah, sure. She’s been great with Pop. She was one of his favorites.” Alli blew her nose and leaned back. Her eyes started to tear up again. “She could make him laugh.”
“Were there any new personnel, anyone you didn’t know?” Hank leaned forward.
“No, all the nurses and aides were the regulars.”
Hank sat back disappointed. He was hoping there would be someone new he could target.
“However, there was a new volunteer,” Alli said. “Is that what you mean?”
Hank’s pulse jumped up a bit. This was a lead. He could feel it. “Who was it?”
he asked.
“I didn’t get her name. She was a new book lady. I almost gave her a heart attack when I sneaked up behind her, but she was real nice after she calmed down.”
“You were in the room with her the entire time she was there?” Hank cringed at the thought of this young woman’s close call.
“Yeah. I picked out a mystery to read to Pop. His favorites are...were mysteries.”
“Do you have the book here?” Hank said holding his breathe. It would be a huge break if he could get a fingerprint off of a book.
“No, I’m afraid I left it in the room.”
“What was the title?”
“Not sure. Something by James Patterson.” Alli stood and paced around the room, rubbing her hands together.
“What happened after you picked out the book?” Hank said.
“Nothing really. She said she was sorry and then she left. A minute or two later, Pop died. I’m really going to miss him.” Alli sat back on the couch. “That’s all I can think off.”
“Thank you for your help.” Hank turned off the recorder. Glory should have gotten the autopsy consent by now from the daughter. He had to get back to the hospital and find the book. Fingerprints may not be of any help, but he could hope.
“May I ask what’s going on?” Alli followed Hank to the door.
“I’m sorry, Alli, but it’s an ongoing investigation. I would ask that you not discuss this with anyone.” Hank was concerned for her safety if the murderer realized she was a potential witness. “It’s important.”
“Okay, sure. If you say so.”
“I will tell you this. I’ll let you know as soon as possible.”
“Thank you. I know Pop was going to die soon, but no one has the right to decide that for him.”
“You’re right, Alli. I’ll be in touch. Remember, tell no one about this.”
The autopsy was completed the next day. Anderson had found an area of slight discoloration on the underarm and did scrapings from the spot. The amount was pitiful, but more than they had previously. Glory called over to the University lab and asked for Angela. She had to leave a message and hoped Dr. Jeffries had returned and given his consent.
Fifteen minutes later the phone rang and Glory rushed to answer.
“Glory Vandenburg.”
“Ms Vandenburg, this is Dr. Jeffries from University Labs,” a soft voice said. “I hear you are requesting our assistance.”
“Yes sir, we are. In fact, I have a fresh specimen from an autopsy today. Will you help us?”
“I spoke to Dr. Trent and he left it up to me. As long as it doesn’t interfere with our research, I guess we could be of assistance.”
“You would be compensated the standard fee,” Glory said.
“Very well. However Dr. Trent did say it was our duty...in good conscience.” Glory could hear the laughter in his voice.
“Guess I’ll never live that down will I?” Glory said.
“Dr. Trent has a phenomenal memory,” Jeffries laughed. “He only forgets people’s names...if they’re not important.”
“I’ll bring the specimen over myself...if that’s okay.”
“Very well. Looking forward to meeting you.”
Chapter 14
Hank and Browder sat in the conference room and listened to the recorder.
“So, a hospital volunteer, an elderly woman, go figure,” Browder mumbled. “Who would of thought an old lady would be a serial killer. Do you think the girl could describe the lady to Charly. A sketch sure would help. Then we could pass it around the different sites and see if anyone recognizes her.”
“Go with it. I’m going to talk to Harkins and see if I can put some stakeouts in the different facilities and see if she shows up.” Hank grabbed the recorder off the table and headed for the Captain’s office. On his way, he called Glory. “Hank here.”
“Hi, Hank. What can I do for you?”
“Listen, have you noticed any pattern as far as the facilities go? I want to plant some officers to see if we can catch this killer before there’s another murder.”
“No set pattern, but the same facility is usually not hit twice in a row. You know the day and time, so that should narrow down the surveillance time.”
“Yeah, but there’s a lot of facilities and multiple floors.” Hank paused outside the Captain’s office door.
“You only need to cover areas that have terminal patients.”
“And we might just have a description. Alli Schmitt saw the volunteer who is likely to be our killer. We’re going to have a sketch done.” Hank knocked on the Captain’s door. “Gotta go.”
“Call me later.”
“Come in,” Harkins deep bass boomed through the door.
“Sir, I’ve got an update and a request.” Hank put the recorder on the desk and hit play.
***
Glory parked in the lot in front of the Research Lab and grabbed the specimen. She asked for Dr. Jeffries office at the front counter and was directed back to the third floor. She found his door and opened it to see his secretary at her desk.
“I’m here to see Dr. Jeffries,” Glory said. “He’s expecting me.
“Go right in,” she said and returned to her computer screen.
Glory opened the inner door and found herself in what she could only think of as a tropical forest. Everywhere she looked were terrariums filled with plants, reptiles, insects or amphibians and the humidity was high enough she could feel herself start to sweat.
“What do you think of my garden?” a soft voice said.
“Oh, my. This is really amazing, but how can you work in here?” Glory focused on a figure crouched in front of a rather large terrarium filled with small frogs. While she watch, he dumped in a bag of beetles and closed the lid.
“Supper time.” Dr. Jeffries stood and walked to Glory holding out his pale hand. “Dr. Franklin Jeffries, at your service.”
“Dr. Glory Vandenburg.” Glory shook his hand. “And thank you for that service.”
“Let’s go into my office.” Dr. Jeffries turned and led Glory to another door that opened into what appeared to be a regular working office.
“I was afraid we were going to have to work back there,” Glory laughed.
“No, those are my babies. I’ve collected them over the past few years. Believe it or not, the next new miracle drug may come from one of my special plants or critters.”
“So I’ve been learning since this whole thing started. I guess I never paid much attention to the research side of things.” Glory took the proffered seat and opened up the speciman box. “This is all we were able to get together.” She handed the glass vial to Dr. Jeffries.
“I know it doesn’t look like much to you, but some poisons are effective down to the equivalent of two grains of salt. I shall work on this myself and Angela has volunteered to help me. She has a good conscience also,” Jeffries smiled.
“Um...thank you.” Glory blushed “How long do you think it will take?”
“Standard time is about two to four weeks,” Jeffries said as he sat down. He wrote out a receipt and handed it to Glory. “Here’s your receipt for chain of custody.
“Thank you. Is there any way you could expedite the process?”
“Not sure with our current load, but if I can, I will.”
“I’m curious, Dr. Jeffries, how did you collect all your specimens? You must be quite an adventurer to have gone to some of those jungles.”
“Not really. I’ve actually done very little traveling. My health prohibits it. But I have a few sources that keep me supplied with specimens.”
“Who do you use?”
“I have a friend who lived with the Embera tribe in South America and he brought me back some excellent specimens of amphibians and insects. Also some plants. Another acquaintance has brought me some reptiles. Colleagues in Brazil have sent a few also, so as you can see, we share an interest with many others around the world.”
“No competition?” Glory smiled.
“Of course there is. But the individuals I named are not in my field of research. They are not looking for cures, they’re looking for knowledge of another kind.”
“How interesting.” Glory stood. “Well, if I want you to find the answer for us, I best get out of your hair and let you get back to work.” She held out her hand again.
“It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” Jeffries said as he shook her hand again. “I shall call you as soon as I have some information for you.”
Glory walked back to her car and sat for a moment thinking. Dr. Jeffries was very interesting and obviously brilliant to hold the position he held. He looked young, but Glory had a feeling he was older than he looked. His long lean frame and pale complexion, along with the dark circles under his eyes, made Glory puzzle over his health issue. Not really my business, she thought, and headed back to the office.
Glory’s phone rang as she walked into her office. She dumped her bag on the chair and grabbed the phone. “Glory here.”
“It’s me,” Hank said. “You told me to call. Got some good news.”
“Tell me. I could use some.”
“Captain Harkins okayed the officers we need to stake out the facilities. The book was a bust. Too many fingerprints and nothing to match them too. Alli is working with Charly, our sketch artist, so hopefully, someone will spot her.”
“Finally a break,” Glory sighed. She hated waiting for another body to hopefully get a clue. Made her feel like a vulture.
“We only have a couple of days to set this up, so I gotta get to work. Anything on the poison?”
“Not yet, but I just dropped off a specimen to the Research Lab. Dr. Jeffries and his assistant are going to work on it. I think they’re our best chance.”
“From your lips to God’s ears. See ya.” The line went dead.
***
Casey closed down her computer for the day and pouted. Something big was going on and she was out of the loop. Damn, didn’t anyone trust her. She could keep a secret and maybe even help. She grumbled all the way out to her car and decided to get her friends to meet at O’Malleys. She rang a few up to see if they could join her, but everyone had dates already. Another damn. She’d just go alone.
O’Malley’s was busy, but she found a small booth in the back. She placed her order and looked around at the pickings. There were a few cuties here tonight and one jerk. She’d dumped him months ago. Uh...oh, he spotted her. He was stumbling over to the table. This is just what I need, Casey thought. She looked down at her drink. Maybe if I don’t make eye contact, he’ll get the message and get lost.
“Casey!” the jerk shouted. Casey slid down in her seat. Damn, damn, damn!
“Hi, honey, sorry to keep you waiting,” a stange voice said. Casey looked up into bright green eyes and a charismatic smile. He slipped into the seat opposite her and looked at the jerk. “Is he bothering you?”
“No, he was just leaving...weren’t you?” Casey said.
“You’re still a bitch,” the jerk said and left as the strange man started to rise.
“Never mind,” Casey said and caught his arm. “He’s drunk...still.”
The man sat back down and looked at Casey. “Didn’t mean to impose, but you looked like you could use some help. I’m Mac, and you are?”
“Casey Sweet...and no jokes.”
“Wouldn’t think of it. Are you waiting for someone?” Mac said.
“No. Everyone was busy tonight. I guess I’m on my own.” Casey smiled.
“Not if you don’t want to be,” Mac smiled. He had an in now. He knew she’d bite.
Casey’s smile got bigger. Tonight would not be a loss after all.
Chapter 15
Mac had a hangover. That girl could sure drink and she just about put him under the table. They talked into the small hours of the morning till the bar closed. He knew everything about her life from birth on. Casey was an open book and loved to talk about herself. He was able to just give her a few bare facts about himself. He did tell her he was a writer, but not that he was a journalist. He let her think he was writing the next great American novel.
He knew something big was going on, but unfortunately, Casey wasn’t in on it. He did get a tip that this all started with the death of Mary Carstairs and that one of the morgue techs working on her died under unknown circumstances. He’d have to start from there. Candace had been called in after the nurse, so that meant something. Was Mary involved in some kind of crime ring? Was she an innocent victim? And why take out a morgue tech? Casey did say that Detective Garcia was working the case, so he’d call his contact at Hank’s precinct. Sounds like a plan, he thought as he dragged himself out of bed. Need coffee!
***
Hank had everything worked out. His undercover officers had been picked and briefed and each took a copy of the sketch to study. Browder left for the night over an hour ago and Hank was finishing up. Tomorrow was the big day. Could he be lucky enough to get this woman the first time out?
***
Mercy was going through the choices trying to decide the best option. The book lady was a great disguise but there was now someone who had seen her, not that anyone was looking for her in particular. Nothing about the hospital deaths had been in the paper other than Mary Carstairs, so Mercy was confident the police didn’t know about the mission. After much debate, the decision was made.
Mercy, dressed as a janitor complete with a large bushy moustache, pushed the cart down the hall. The usual hospital hustle and bustle was in full swing. The dinner trays were out and the aides were assisting patients. The nurses were at the station charting their notes when Mercy passed by and walked down the hall not noticing the aide at the station observing all passerbys. Slipping into Barton James’ room with mop in hand, Mercy put up the wet floor sign. Quick and quiet, the swab was deployed and the room exited. Barton James was not discovered till long after Mercy had left the floor.
***
“So what happened?” Hank glared at the unfortunate officer. “How did she slip past you?”
“She didn’t sir. I never left my post and no woman matching the sketch was on the floor last night.” Officer Fuentes sat straight in her chair. She may be young but she was certain of her skills and knew something was off. “I noted all persons in my log that were on the floor during the target hours. There were the regulars who we’ve checked out already. Then there was a volunteer who delivered flowers. Two x-ray techs escorted patients to and from radiology and two different janitors did some clean-up.”
“Any visitors?” Hank said.
“Yessir, 8. The nurses could identify all of them as having been there before. None matched the sketch. Are you sure the death was due to the killer and not natural?”
“The time is right, but without cause of death we can’t be positive.” Hank sank into thought. He was sure the killer was there and that Barton James was the latest victim. How had the woman slipped by them. Could there be two perpetrators? No, he didn’t think so. Maybe the killer changed her appearance. “Do any of the volunteers work at multiple facilities?”
“Not that we’ve been able to find out,” Browder said. “Who were the janitors?”
“The name badge on one was Thomas Guthrie. The other I couldn’t see because of a bandana around his neck,” Fuentes said.
“Call personnel and get the names of the janitors covering that floor,” Hank said to Browder who then left the room to call.
“Anything more you want to report,” Hank said.
“No, sir.”
“Question,” Hank said.
“Yessir?”
“What made you think to keep a log of everyone you saw? Why not just keep watch for the suspect?”
“Just wanted to be thorough, sir.”
“Dismissed. Good job.” Fuentes left and Hank sat deep in thought. There has to be another disguise or maybe another killer. Shit. He’d had high hopes for tonight. Hank sipped his coffee waiting for Browder to come back into the room. He thought back to the officer. They’d been lucky. None of the other officers had kept a log of all persons they observed on the floor. She showed potential. Browder came in the door.
“What did they say?” Hank said.
“Thomas Guthrie was on duty for that floor. They have no idea who the other could be.” Browder sat on the edge of the table. “We didn’t think of a different disguise. Damn.”
“Yeah. So is our killer a woman dressing up as a man, or a man dressing up as a woman? Or one of both. Get that officer back in here and see if she can give us a description.”
***
Mac hung up the phone and whistled. Holy shit, a serial killer and what a serial killer. He couldn’t believe they had kept this under wraps for as long as they had. He didn’t have the total number of deaths yet, but he knew it was big...double digits. The informant also told him all the victims were seriously ill, as in terminal. Miami had a mercy killer on the loose.
Mac got on his laptop and started looking up some background information. He was surprised to learn that women were more successful at remaining undetected as poisoners than men. Most serial killers were men, however, and the most prolific in the good old US of A was the Green River Killer who confessed to 71, but was suspected of more. His informant did say the type of poison hadn’t been identified as yet. Mac thought he’d nose around the poison control center and a few labs to see what he could dig up.
***
Hank thought Fuentes did a pretty decent job on her description. The janitor was tall with shoulder length scraggly gray hair and moustache. There was a bit of a beer belly and rounded shoulders. Unfortunately, she didn’t get a clear enough look at his face to say anything about any distinctive features. If this was the killer, and Hank thought it was, they were no closer to identifying him...or her. Now they had to wait and try again next Tuesday.
Hank called Aaron’s cell and left a message. He needed to talk to that analyst again. Until the poison had been identified, he felt like he was at a standstill. He hated waiting another week for another murder. Maybe he could pick the profiler’s brain and get another idea on where to go next. His cell rang. “Hank here.”
“What can I do you for?” Aaron said.
“Thanks for getting back to me so quick. I need to talk to that Dr. Adams. Can you have her give me a call?”
“I can do you one better. She’s here at the office working on another case. Let me see if I can interrupt her. Hold on a minute.”
Hank could hear some voices in the background, then a cool calm voice spoke.
“Dr. Adams here. How can I help you?”
“Dr. Adams, I was wondering if I could talk to you again here at the station. I’d like to bring you up to date and see if you have any other ideas.”
“I can be there in about a hour. I’m just about done here.” The line went dead.
Hank looked at his phone and said, ”thanks.” He got the new sketch and victim information together and went to get himself some coffee. Precinct coffee sucked, but the caffeine kept you going. He looked at his cell and dialed a number that went straight to voicemail. “You have reached the voicemail of ADA Claire Franks. Please leave a message.” Hank hung up and thought he’d try later. Coward echoed in his head.
Dr. Adams walked in an hour later, just as cool and wrinkle free as if she just got up. “So, Detective Garcia, what can I help you with.” Dr. Adams sat and crossed her legs. She did have great legs Hank had to admit. He also noticed that she noticed him noticing.
“We have an issue, Dr. Adams. Last week’s victim had a visitor, his granddaughter. She was able to give us a description of what the suspect looked like.” Hank handed the sketch to Dr. Adams
“Call me Candace.” She studied the sketch. “And...”
“We staked out the sites that have been hit. Unfortunately, we didn’t see this suspect, even though there was a killing.”
“So, you have the wrong suspect.”
“Don’t think so. This is a sketch of the suspect from the latest. We hope it’s the same person. I don’t want to think we have two killers.” Hank handed the new sketch and sat back while she studied it.
“You have yourself quite a chameleon.” Candace looked up at Hank. “This person is very organized and artistic. This disguise is perfect with all the right details. Your suspect knows how to fit in. A volunteer, a janitor...he knows hospital personnel and routines. He either works in a medical facility, or was a long term patient in one.”
“So we have two disguises,” Hank said.
“I wouldn’t limit myself to two. Be open to more. This person shows imagination. Think of him as an actor trying on different roles in different plays.”
“Plays?”
“Your suspect likely gets into the character so completely that no one singles him out or questions his right to be there. Also, he is focused on the victim. If he killed Mary Carstairs, why didn’t he kill this...Alli. There has to be a reason, a difference in the circumstances. Remember, our killer does not see himself, or possibly herself, as a murderer, but as someone alleviating suffering.”
“Could there be more than one killer?” Hank asked.
“It’s possible, but somehow I don’t think so.”
“Thanks, that helps, but makes our job a whole lot harder.”
“Your officers will have to keep a sharp eye. Look for someone that looks too nonchalant, too unobtrusive. Look for the background person who doesn’t want to catch your eye.”
“Unfortunately, that means waiting a week.” Hank finished off his coffee. Waiting for something to happen was never his strong suit. He was a man of action.
“No luck yet on the poison?” Candace said.
“No. I may just ask Glory if she could encourage the lab to speed it up. We’ve been waiting for weeks now for some idea of what poison we’re dealing with. If we know that, it might give us an idea of what direction to head in.”
“The FBI lab hasn’t had any luck?”
“None so far.”
“Well, Hank, you need to continue the stakeouts and you need to broaden the parameters. If that is all, I shall be on my way.” Candace stood and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her skirt.
“Thanks. You’ve been a great help.” Hank stuck out his hand and was surprised by the strength of Candace’s grip.
“I work out,” Candace smiled as if reading his thought. She turned and walked out of the room. Hank enjoyed the view and turned to laugh at all the other officers doing likewise. Picking up the phone, he dialed Glory.
“Hi, Hank,” Glory answered.
“Hey,” Hank said. “I’ve got a favor to ask.”
“Go ahead. It’s yours if I can.”
“Could you touch bases with the lab and see if there is anything.”
“The stakeout didn’t work? How did she get past you?” Glory said.
“By being a he.”
“A man. So the killer is a man?”
“Last night he was. Spoke with the analyst and she says we need to broaden our surveillance. Luckily, we know the target type and the time. I don’t have the manpower for anything broader.”
“How about I go to the lab personally and see if I can get any information. Nothing from the FBI?”
“Nothing. Sure would appreciate it. How about you and Claire joining Aaron and I for drinks Friday. Maybe get a bite.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll call Claire and let you know.”
After Glory hung up, Hank dialed Aaron again. Maybe he should’ve asked Aaron first before he invited the girls, but he wanted to see Claire and they seemed to need a buffer. Aaron owed him. Besides, Hank didn’t think he’d have to twist Aaron’s arm to get him to spend an evening with Glory. Sure enough, Aaron was good to go. About twenty minutes later, a call came from Glory. The evening was a go.
Chapter 16
Glory left work early on Thursday. She drove to the Research lab and went to Dr. Jeffries office. His secretary barely looked up before sending her into the menagerie where Jeffries was sitting on the floor in front of a tank.
“Take a seat. I’ll only be a minute.”
Glory sat in front of an aquarium filled with greenery, a small pond, and a few flat top rocks. A heatlamp above highlighted the bright color of the small frogs. This tank held yellow frogs, another held bright blue and green.
“The frogs are adorable,” Glory said, “and what beautiful colors. What are they?”
Dr. Jeffries finished his note and stood up. Walking over to Glory, he looked down and smiled.
“They may be beautiful, but only if you don’t touch.”
“Oh?”
“They’re deadly. These are Golden Dart frogs from South America. Their protection from predators is a potent toxin on their skin. That one with all the colors is the Rainbow frog from India and actually was worshipped as a god: that one is the strawberry and the other is called the Blue Dart. They’re both from Central or South America.”
“Interesting. And those?” Glory pointed to a tank with beetles.
“They’re called Blister Beetles and their toxin is comparable to cyanide or strychnine.”
“Nice hobby you have here. Just a little dangerous for me.”
“Ah, but they all serve a purpose. At this time, there is research ongoing to develop medications using these substances. After all digitalis is a poison, but has prolonged the life of many heart patients. Everything has a purpose for both good and evil.”
“So your assistant informed me. How long has Angela worked with you?” Glory wiped her brow.
“About four years now. Sorry, let’s go into my office and out of this humidity.” Jeffries ushered Glory into his office and opening a small fridge, offered her some cold water. He took a long pull on his bottle and sat down on the corner of his desk. “Now, to what do I owe this visit? I hope it’s not another case.”
Glory didn’t want to give out any information that wasn’t necessary, but had to give him some to encourage his cooperation. “We had another killing this past Tuesday. But this time we couldn’t find anything on the skin. So I have no further specimens for you.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Jeffries paused and seemed to be considering something, then shook his head. “We may have something for you.”
“I was hoping you made some progress. We haven’t heard a thing from the FBI lab,” Glory said.
“Follow me.” Jeffries stood and motioned Glory to follow. They left his office and headed toward the lab. Jeffries keyed open the door, and upon entering, went to the closest intercom. He called for Angela to come to the front. He stood in silence while waiting for her to respond. Glory wondered at his somber face. She thought the news was not going to be good.
Angela walked up and gave Glory a tentative smile. She held a folder in her hands hat she gave to Jeffries and then turned to leave.
“Stay here,” Jeffries ordered. He opened the file and after reading for a moment handed it to Glory without saying a word. Angela stared at the floor as if an abyss would open.
Glory read the first pages and had to admit to being shocked. What the hell was bactrachotoxin, she thought, and looked in askance at Jeffries.
“What is this?”
“This is our preliminary report. You picked the right lab to identify your poison. It just so happens, we are the experts on this particular toxin. The frogs you were looking at are a source of this along with certain beetles, but we don’t have any of the beetles here at this time.”
“What does this mean?” Glory said
“I guess it means we have joined the ranks of suspects since we have access to a rare toxin. I’ll give you a copy of the report you can take with you. I assume one of your detectives will be around to question us.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Jeffries, but you’re correct, even if it’s just to get further details on how the toxin works or where it could be obtained. I know this will create a problem for you, but I cannot thank you enough for telling us the truth under the circumstances.”
Glory left the lab and headed straight to the precinct station. Hank was out so she left a message for him to call her at home. She was exhausted and all she could think of was a nice large glass of wine. She drove home deep in thought. She must admit to being impressed that Jeffries had admitted to the toxin. She couldn’t help but think he had to be innocent of any wrongdoing otherwise why identify the substance or why not delay the identification?
Piwacket and Nemo greeted Glory at the door and followed her to the kitchen. Glory filled their bowls and then poured a large glass of merlot for herself. Walking into the living room, she kicked off her shoes and sighed as she sank into her favorite chair. After a few sips, she got up and went to her desk. She pulled out the folder Jeffries had given her and after checking the spelling, did a search on bactrachotoxin. Who thinks up these names anyway, she thought.
She found multiple sites and could identify the frogs as the ones in Jeffries menagerie. She didn’t want to think of him as a murderer because she really liked him and didn’t want to think she liked someone capable of being a serial killer. After reading for an hour and finishing her wine, her stomach demanded attention. As she shut down the computer, her phone rang.
“Hi, Glory.” Hank’s deep voice sounded tired. “What’s up? Anything good?”
“Just the identification of your murder weapon.” Glory smiled as she heard a yell over the phone.
“What is it?” Hank said.
“It’s called bactrachotoxin,” Glory said.
“Bactra... what? What the hell is that?”
“It’s a frog poison.”
“Frog poison? Since when are frogs poisonous? I use to play with frogs as a kid all the time.”
“Not these. These frogs are from jungle climes in Central or South America and India, I guess. Not sure where else. I’m not certain it’s from a frog as some beetles and a few birds also produce it. However, I know where there are some of the frogs, but have no idea about any beetles or birds.”
“Where are the frogs?” Hank said.
“At the Research lab. Dr. Jeffries has some tanks with quite a few specimens.” Silence from Hank let Glory know what he was thinking.
“They’re expecting a call from you, Hank.”
“Thanks, Glory. You don’t know how much I appreciate this. I’ll call them tomorrow.”
“You can let me know how it goes tomorrow at Murphy’s.”
“Will do.”
Chapter 17
First thing Friday morning, Hank called the Research Lab and set up an appointment to speak with Jeffries in a couple hours. He made a few notes and went over his questions, then headed out. He yelled at Browder to do research on the poison and to identify any citywide sources of same. The Research Lab couldn’t be the only place to have these frogs. But for now, they were his starting point.
Hank was greeted at the sign in desk by a security guard that led him to a conference room on the second floor. A young woman sat quietly at the conference table and spoke into the intercom when Hank entered. She sat back and didn’t speak.
“And you are?” Hank asked.
“I’m Angela Davies,” the young woman said. “I’m Dr. Jeffries chief assistant. And you are Officer Garcia?”
“That’s Lieutenant Garcia.”
“Oh, right. I’m sorry. Just a little nervous.” Angela blushed and looked down at her hands.
“How long have you worked here Angela?” Hank said.
“I’m sorry, Officer...Lieutenant. The Director said I wasn’t to answer any questions until he was present.”
“Is he on his way?”
“Yessir. That’s who I just called.” Angela lapsed into silence and they waited for Trent and Jeffries to arrive which wasn’t long.
“Good morning, Lieutenant,” Trent said as he burst into the room followed by a subdued Jeffries. Hank knew immediately who was who, but shook hands over the introductions.
“Do you have a copy of the report?” Trent said.
“Not with me,” Hank replied. “Dr. Vandenburg has it at the present time, but she did read it to me so I know the contents.”
“Well then, Lieutenant, what can we do for you? Seems like we’ve already done what you’ve asked for,” Trent said.
“And I want to express my deep appreciation for that. You may save lives and help bring a killer to justice.” Hank leaned forward and tried to look as sincere as possible. His statement seemed to mollify Trent, who relaxed slightly and permitted himself a small smile. “I really came to speak with you about the particulars of this poison since I’ve never heard of it and know nothing about it.”
“Very well, Lieutenant. You may ask your questions. Dr. Jeffries here can answer them the best.” Trent sat back and motioned for Jeffries to take over.
“Thank you,” said Hank, “I will keep this as brief as possible.” Hank took out his pen and pad and opened it to take notes. This gave him a chance to pull his thoughts together and observe the occupants of the room. Trent seemed distant and irritated and looked at his watch as if worried about the time. Jeffries appeared calm, but Hank could see sweat on his brow and upper lip. The tech, Angela was trying hard to disguise her nerves, but her hands gave her tension away.
“Can you start by giving me a background on this bactrachotoxin...who comes up with these names anyway?” Hank smiled.
“Never really thought about it.” Jeffries smiled in response. “Anyway, this toxin is produced by some amphibians, beetles and a few species of birds as a means of defense. It is exuded from the skin, so any attempt to eat or molest them could be fatal. The toxin is extremely potent with only the equivalent of 2 grains of salt being enough to kill a grown man.”
“Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Hank said.
“Mainly because they are all residents of tropical jungle regions in Central and South America and have a limited area where they can survive. My specimens here live in carefully controlled tanks.”
“Do you keep a large collection?”
“I have four tanks at this time. Would you care to see them?” Jeffries seemed to be getting interested in showing off his specimens.
“I’d like that.”
The group exited the conference room and went up to the third floor office. Hank had to admit the humidity and temperature in the room was uncomfortable. Maybe that was why Jeffries had been sweating, he thought. He looked at the tanks and thought the frogs anything but deadly in appearance.
“They’re pretty, aren’t they?” Angela said.
“The color is their way of warning off predators,” Jeffries explained.
“Nice of them.” Hank squatted down to see them better.
Jeffries opened a tank to the left and reached in to pick up a bright gold specimen. He held it out to Hank.
“What the...I thought you said they couldn’t be touched.” Hank said.
“That’s correct...with the frogs in that tank, but these were born here in captivity and they never develop the toxin. Also the specimens in the tank behind that are no longer poisonous. After two or three years out of their habitat, they lose their toxin. These are just my pretty pets.”
“How do they lose their poison?” Hank said fascinated despite the circumstances.
“We think its because of the change in their food sources.” He held out the Golden Frog. Hank took the frog trying not to show any hesitation. The small critter looked up at him and he could almost imagine a smile. “He’s not afraid, is he?”
“No. He’s never been threatened. They are quite intelligent really. And sociable, too.”
“How would someone get a frog like this?” Hank asked as he handed the frog back to Jeffries.
“I have a license to import them for research. They are not available to the general public being a dangerous species. And if you did get a specimen, without the proper environment, they get a wasting disease and die.”
“When was your last shipment?”
Jeffries looked at Angela who went to the desk and looked through a file.
“Last order was six months ago,” Angela said. “We acquired the Blue Dart and a Rainbow.”
“Are you just about finished here?” Trent looked at his watch. “It’s blooming hot in here and I have another meeting.”
“Just about, Dr. Trent.” Hank paused. “Have you lost any specimens in the last few years?”
“No.”
“Who has access to these frogs here?”
“Me, my staff, my secretary, Dr. Trent.” Jeffries started to fidget. “But I can’t imagine anyone doing this.”
“Are any of your staff new or recent hires?”
“No. Most have been here for years.”
“Thompson,” Angela said.
“Oh, yes, he’s been here about 18 months, I guess. But again, he came highly recommended.”
“Can we please get out of here?” Trent mopped his brow. “We can finish this in the other room.” The group turned and went into Jeffries main office each wiping sweat from their foreheads.
“I think you have answered my questions for now. Thank you. I would like a list of your employees, however. Also a list of your suppliers.” Hank waited for the explosion and was not disappointed.
“How dare you!” Trent bellowed. “This is what we get for helping you. Accused!”
“I’m not accusing anyone, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t cover all the bases and your employees have access. I will be as discrete as possible.”
Angela went to Jeffries desk and picked up a paper. “We thought you’d want a list. Here are the assistants that have clearance for this area.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, please leave,” Trent said as he opened the door. “Angela, show the Lieutenant out.”
The rest of the day, Hank had his team do background checks on the Research Lab’s list. Nothing came up in the first round that singled anyone out. With an exception of a few parking tickets and one assistant had a juvie record at the age of ten, everyone else was squeaky clean.
“Not an exciting bunch,” Browder groused. “What about the juvie?”
“The kid was 10. Nothing else after. I’ll have to get a court order to get it opened.”
“Why not talk to the CPS caseworker?” Browder said.
“Yeah, good. You do that. I’m done for the day. Got plans. See ya.”
Chapter 18
Glory stood in front of her closet trying to decide wardrobe for the night. Did she want to wow or did she want to be comfortable. She hadn’t seen Aaron since the poker game, so she decided on the wow. She pushed aside the work day clothes and reached for the classic little black dress. Short, but not too short and with a scoop that showed the perfect amount of cleavage, this dress showed her figure to its best advantage. Her long legs were encased in sheer black silk with a small diamond like embellishment at the ankle. She chose a choker of alternating black and white stones and added a diamond tennis bracelet and studs. Her make-up was subtle with the exception of dark dramatic eyes and deep red lips. If she couldn’t make an impression like this, she better hang up her three inch black stillettos. She wouldn’t like the sore feet later, but she hoped it was worth it.
The knock on the door told her Claire was here. She opened the door and smiled. Claire took a step back and whistled then looked down at the red sheath she wore. She shook her head and walked in.
“Why did I even bother,” Claire laughed. “You look spectacular.”
“I hope Aaron notices.”
“He’d have to be dead not too.”
“You look pretty hot yourself. Red is definitely your color.” Glory considered for a moment. “You need to jazz up the accessories a bit is all. Follow me.” Glory led the way to her bedroom and went to dig through her jewelry box. She looked through her earrings and pulled out a pair of dangles that would complement the red. The chandeliers had a few accent stones of a deep red that would stand out amidst Claire’s full loose curls. She took out the studs Claire wore and put the dangles in then turned Claire to see the results.
“They’re beautiful.” Claire turned her head form side to side to watch them swing. The light sparkled as it was caught in the stones. She looked down as Glory put on an anklet of sparkles.
“This will help call attention to your beautiful legs, not that they really need it. Now we are ready. Shall we go slay those dragons?” Glory said taking Claire’s arm and exiting the bedroom.
“Onward!” Claire laughed as they grabbed their clutches and walked out the door.
The girls walked into Murphy’s just a little late, fashionably late. Both of their egos received a considerable boost when they noticed the hot male eyes following their progress across the room and the stunned look of both their dates.
“We done good,” Glory whispered as the girls came to a stop by the table.
Aaron was the first to jump up and pull out a chair for Glory. Hank rose slower not taking his eyes off Claire as he pulled out a chair as well.
“You two look great,” Aaron smiled. “What would you like to drink?” Glory?”
“Merlot, please.”
“Claire?”
“Pinot Grigio, please. Stop staring,” Claire muttered to Hank.
“Sorry,” Hank said. He shifted in his seat feeling like a teenage boy in the throes of his first crush. Man up, he thought.
“So,” Glory said, “how did the interview go today at the lab?”
Hank sent a silent thanks to Glory for helping him get back on solid ground. He gave a concise report of the interview and his impressions of the individuals. The wine was delivered and the conversation turned to the poker game.
Glory was enjoying the evening watching Hank and Claire circle around each other. She could never figure out the male-female dance. She just always thought if you liked someone, just tell them. If her honesty was a problem for them, then they weren’t the right guy for her. Her bluntness had caused a few problems over the years and ended one or two relationships that couldn’t stand the test. She cast a glance at Aaron and wondered if his ego could handle it better than his predecessors. Only time would tell.
“Where would you lovely ladies like to go for dinner?” Aaron said.
“I’m in the mood to dance,” Glory smiled, “How about trying the Prohibition Restaurant? I hear its fun.”
Everyone agreed and the guys drove them over. The evening went smoothly as a few more glasses of wine relaxed the mood. Claire and Hank seemed to be going strong out on the dance floor. Glory never realized Hank was such a good dancer. Aaron was especially good at the slow dances and she loved the way he held her. Here was a man not afraid to lead. His arms felt strong and sure and Glory had to admit she loved his shoulders. By the end of the evening, Glory was intoxicated on more than just the wine. They had to pick up Glory’s car back at Murphy’s so Aaron drove her. Glory thought that worked out better because she wasn’t sure she was ready to invite Aaron in yet, and if he had taken her home, she wouldn’t have been able to resist.
Hank and Claire gave each other a kiss goodnight in the parking lot. Hank tried to keep it light, but when Claire melted against his chest, all he could think about was how long he had wanted to hold her. Minutes passed, Claire held on to him like she was drowning. Hank could think of nothing but how good she felt. A throat clearing interrupted them.
“Excuse me,” a man’s voice said, “just need to get to my car.”
“Who’s stopping you?” Hank growled.
“Ah, your leaning on my hood.”
“Oh...sorry.” Hank and Claire parted and walked to her car door. She fumbled with her clutch and looked up at Hank.
“Would you like to have a nightcap at my place?” Claire said.
“Yes, I would.” Hank reached up and cupped her cheek lowering his lips to hers.
***
Glory woke up Saturday morning with a slight headache. Too much wine last night, she thought. She stumbled from her lonely bed and went straight to the shower. Hot water washed the after effects away and she was ready for the day. She had some errands to do, then she was meeting Aaron for a late lunch. She thought about calling Claire, but decided it was too early. She’d talk to her later.
Glory picked up her groceries and a birthday present for niece Annie’s birthday. After putting everything away, she changed into a comfortable summer dress with sexy sandals. She glanced at her watch and rushed out the door. Didn’t want him to think she’d always be late. That would just make her seem rude. She headed out the door.
Aaron was waiting outside the Crazy About You restaurant when she arrived. His smile widened in appreciation, so Glory knew the dress was a smart move. She stood on her toes and pressed a kiss on his cheek wishing it was more. Lunch was delicious and Aaron kept her laughing with tales of his early career blunders. Glory admitted she made a few herself, but hers were not lunchtime material. She did get a few smiles telling him about Casey’s sneaky attempts to try and find out what was going on.
After lunch, they decided to see a movie and then it turned into dinner. Somewhere during the day, her hand found its way into his as they walked shoulder to shoulder.
“Would you like to come back to my place?” Glory asked as they got back to their cars. Aaron turned her toward him and wrapped his arms around her. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips touched hers.
“I think that’s a yes?” Glory smiled.
“Definitely.”
Sunday morning came too soon, Glory thought stretching and bumping into Aaron’s sleeping form. She felt wonderful this morning and ready for anything. In fact, last night was one for the books. She turned on her side and watched Aaron sleep. He was downright gorgeous, she thought. Her hand reached out all on its lonesome and smoothed back his hair. She just wanted to touch him.
“You’re waking me up,” Aaron’s voice rumbled grumpily. “I’m not ready. Don’t tell me you’re a morning person.”
“Yup, sure am. The days a wasting. How’d you like to go for a walk and get the blood pumping?”
“What’s in it for me?” Aaron grumbled with his eyes still closed.
“Coffee?”
“Not good enough.”
“Homemade breakfast?”
“Nope.”
“Sex?”
“Now you’re talking.” Aaron moved so fast, Glory didn’t have time to do more than giggle before she was pinned to the bed. “This is the way to start the day.” His lips crushed hers and her blood heated to boiling.
“I can go for that.” Glory whispered.
An hour later, they hit the shower. Aaron’s playfulness matched Glory’s and she was amazed at how inventive he could be. Refreshed and revived, Glory convinced him a walk was in order and promised him a Starbucks. Aaron kept a go-bag in his trunk so he had brought it up last night. When they were dressed, they headed out.
They spent the day together and Glory invited him to Annie’s birthday party that afternoon. He was a good enough sport to say yes. He got extra points for having the courage to meet her family. When they drove up to the house, there were kids running everywhere. Annie’s friends played slider on a waterslide running across the back yard. Water pistols were shooting across as well, two large blasters in the hands of Glory’s brothers. She was the prime target the moment she entered the yard. The arcs of water sailed through the air and Aaron stood in front of her intercepting the shots.
“My hero,” Glory said.
“Just wanted you to know I’d take the shots for you,” he smiled.
“It’s us against them,” Glory said. She reached into the chest and pulled out a supersoaker handing it to Aaron. She choose the pistol and the war was on.
Only the announcement of food could issue a ceasefire. A wet and dripping gang sat at the picnic tables as the hot dogs and burgers were delivered to the table. In a blur of movement, the food disappeared.
“So who’s the ringer you brought to this shoot out?” Paul said with a mouth full of chips.
“Everybody, this is Aaron, Aaron meet the family.” Names were shouted out around the table and hands shaken with the brothers. Good shots were praised and misses ridiculed. Aaron had made a good first impression being a deadly shot. Glory didn’t divulge the fact that he was FBI.
A pinata hung from under the backyard tree, so everyone gathered around to shout encouragement. Annie went first and nailed it third swing. A free for all followed. After cake and presents, Glory decided Aaron had been a good enough sport. They said their goodbyes, and headed out front.
“Hey, Glory,” Paul said as he followed them out to the front yard. “Why don’t you bring Aaron to the poker game this Friday.”
Glory looked at Aaron with raised brows. “Interested?”
“Sure thing. Thanks for the invite.”
“See you then,” Paul said. “And bring lots of money.”
Chapter 19
Hank woke early, and looking at the clock, knew he had to get to the station. There were background checks to go through and another stakeout to organize. He looked at Claire and smiled. The no-nonsense prosecutor was a handful, but the most beautiful handful he could want. He considered not waking her up after the late night marathon, but thought he’d better. He brushed the long curls off her face and leaned in.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” Hank murmured as he kissed her cheek.
“Mmm,” Claire smiled and opened her eyes. “Good morning to you, too.”
“I have to get to the station this morning, but I could make us my famous scrambled eggs and toast.”
“Famous, huh. This I have to see.” Claire rolled onto her back and opened her arms. “Right after...”
“You’re a girl after my own heart. This is a much better breakfast.”
Claire had to admit, his eggs weren’t bad.
Hank whistled his way to his desk, not noticing the glances sent his way. Browder was already working and looked up to smile.
“Someone had fun last night,” Browder said.
“None of your damn business,” Hank said smiling.
The morning dragged on as they went over the backgrounds again and did a little more digging. They’d have to do some interviews on Monday and Browder could talk to the CPS worker, or if that was no help, get a warrant to open the file. Hank worked on the stakeout plan and made a note to have everyone follow Fuentes’ procedure. He put in descriptions of both known disguises with the order that the officers not limit themselves to them.
***
Mac had a draft done to show the Miami Herald. Since nothing else had been in print or on the web, he knew he got the exclusive. He needed to get an interview with the investigating officer for confirmation, so he grabbed his pad and headed to the station.
Hank was just getting ready to check out when his phone rang. The front desk said there was a reporter to see him. Damn, he thought. There’d been a leak. He knew it. “Send him back,” Hank said.
Hank watched as the reporter walked in. Without a word, Hank motioned him to sit.
“Thanks for talking to me,” Mac said.
“Didn’t say I’d talk to you. What do you want?” Hank leaned back in his seat looking bored.
“Well, just thought you’d want to give your two cents before I submit this to the Herald.” Mac handed the draft to Hank and sat back with a smirk as Hank read.
Hank felt his stomach tighten. Shit yeah, there’d been a leak. If this was published, his stakeout would crumble and they’d lose the killer. He debated with himself for a moment and made his decision.
“If you hold this till Wednesday, I’ll give you the inside info. You publish this now, and a killer may go free.”
“What’s to keep someone else from submitting it? I’d be scooped.”
“You’re the only one so far to even come to talk to us. You wouldn’t even have this if not for Mary Carstairs’ murder. One nurse dying on the job didn’t rank high with the reporters. Where did you get your info from?” Hank said.
“Uh,uh, no dice. Can’t reveal my sources,” Mac said. He thought for a moment. “If I go along with this, I want full access to the case info and access to all parties in the investigation...exclusive.”
“You got a deal, but I got to clear it with the chain of command,” Hank said.
“Can I get some details now?” Mac asked taking out his pad.
“I’ll give you some, but at this time, we have no suspects.” Hank told Mac about the poison, the source, and confirmed the fact that this was an angel of death scenario since all the victims except Mary Carstairs were terminally ill.
“Do you have a final count?” Mac said.
“As best we can figure, it’s about 52.”
“Holy shit! We going to catch up to the Green River Killer?”
“I hope not. Enough for now. I’m beat and off duty. You can check in with me Monday.”
***
Mercy picked through the disguise chest trying to decide what to use. Didn’t want to use the same one in the same facility too often. Anonymity was the key. Decision made, the next choice was to select the candidate. Mercy’s help was sorely needed and once again Mercy contemplated doing a double. Lamont Nursing Home had two cases that needed help, so the decision was made. A heady anticipation pumped through Mercy’s veins, the feeling of power was addicting.
Tuesday evening, a van with a Thompson’s Flower Delivery sign on the side drove up to the Nursing Center. A young man got out and opened the side to pull out a bouquet of mixed flowers. He was tall with long dirty blonde hair, moustache and bushy eyebrows. His nose was rather large and held up black rim glasses. The dull green pants and matching shirt had Thompson’s on the back and the name ’Tommy’ over his left hand pocket. He carried the bouquet down the corridor to room A208. Mae Shaffer lay on the bed in a semi-comatose state. A nasogastric tube was hooked up to a machine that slowly pumped a feeding into her stomach. The sound of the pump was the only noise in the room. Mercy left half of the flowers and said a short prayer. Gloves were donned and the swab was deployed, but when ’Tommy’ turned, he was confronted by a young latina aide who had a determined look on her face.
“May I see your ID please?” The aide said.
“Is there something wrong?” Tommy said. He knew he would have to kill this woman. Once again his hope for a double was ruined.
“May I see your ID?” the aide repeated holding out her hand.
Mae Shaffer’s body began to spasm as she died. The aide instinctively moved towards the bed. Dropping the flowers, Tommy grabbed the woman and tried to swipe the poisoned swab down her arm. Surprising strength fought his efforts. The woman kneed him in the gut as she held off his attack. He gasped for air and realized he was in danger of being caught.
The woman yelled. Tommy dropped the swab during the struggle and now used both hands. Putting all his strength behind his punch, he lashed out and made contact with the woman’s nose. She screamed and fell back with blood pouring down her face. Tommy grabbed the swab and ran from the room, down the hall and out the front. He heard shouts and footsteps behind him. He pushed the auto start as he jumped into the van and sped out of the drive. He heard sirens.
Mercy pressed the gas to the floor and ran the redlight at the corner. Squealing tires sounded behind the van and Mercy made a hard left turn again cutting in front of traffic. Two blocks down, Mercy pulled into an alley and drove into a backlot. Jumping from the van, the green shirt and pants were ditched, along with the wig, moustache, eyebrows and glasses. The stick on sign was removed and all items thrown into a large dumpster. A man in a black tee shirt and khaki shorts walked out of the opposite end of the alley and into a coffee shop where he could watch the commotion, his heart pumping with adrenalin.
***
“You okay?” Hank growled at Fuentes thankful she wasn’t dead. They’d been so close.
“Yessir. Sorry I lost him, sir.” Fuentes held the packing against her nose. How long could this sucker bleed anyway, she thought. She gave a detailed report of what had happened. “He risked getting caught to pick up the swab. That has to be his delivery system.”
“Glad you’re alright, Fuentes. If he’d gotten you with that swab we’d be taking you to the morgue right now.”
Fuentes described the suspect’s appearance and his actions then had to change dressings that were saturated.
“Sir...” she said after a moment, “there’s something else bothering me.”
“What is it?”
“He was only leaving half of the flowers as he turned to leave. That’s why I didn’t wait for backup. I think he was going to go for another patient.”
“He’s never killed two patients before,” Hank said.
“Yessir, but the profile did say that serial killers escalate.”
“Good thinking, Fuentes. Now get that nose to the ER pronto.”
Hank called Glory and gave her a report on the newest victim. “Tell whoever’s doing the autopsy to check the mouth. He used an oral swab on this one and I bet that’s his usual site.”
“Is the officer okay?” Glory asked.
“I’d bet a dozen donuts her nose is busted.”
“She ’s lucky that’s all it was. A team is on the way,” Glory said and hung up. She couldn’t help but be discouraged. Now the killer would know they were looking for him. What would he do? Go to ground, change sites, change days. They couldn’t stakeout every facility every day. She got up and walked down to the autopsy room to leave a message for Anderson. She wanted him to stay on this case.
Hank placed a call to the analyst giving her a rundown on the new info and Fuentes suggestion. “The officer gets the gold cigar, Garcia. I’m surprised he hasn’t escalated before now. By the sound of it, the cat is definitely out of the bag.”
“Yeah. I could sure use an idea on where he might go now. Do you think he’ll go to ground, or change his routine.”
“Don’t think he can stop now. He’s been doing this for so long, it’s in his blood. Think of him as a addict. The sense of power, the adrenalin, he won’t give them up. He’ll want to prove he’s smarter than we are.”
“Well, shit. Can’t stake out every facility. Any suggestions?” Hank grumbled.
“Nope,” came the cheerful reply.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks,” Candace snorted with laughter and hung up.
Hank grimaced as the reporter showed up at the scene. The police chase got everyone’s attention. He was going to have to make good on his deal.
“Lieutenant,” Mac said, “are you ready to fill me in now?”
“Yeah, give me a minute and I’ll meet you in the hall.” The room was packed as evidence was collected and the body removed. Next of kin gave consent for the autopsy. Hank composed his thoughts and went to talk to the reporter.
The interview didn’t take as long as Hank thought it would since Mac had already been given the basic information. He was surprised when Mac asked about Dr. Adams. He didn’t think she was the type to leak information. When he asked the reporter point blank, Mac flushed slightly and said no, but Hank didn’t believe him.
Mac left to get his story done and Hank headed back to the station. When he got there Browder was waiting for him.
“So, it’s a guy, for sure?” Browder asked.
“Looks that way. He gave Fuentes quite a punch. Contact Jeffries. I need that list of anyone he knows who either supplied him with specimens or has a collection like his.”
“Will do.”
Hank sat thinking at his desk trying to figure what the killer would do next. A headache started so he poured himself another coffee, his cure for all ills. His thoughts turned to Claire and their first of many, he hoped, nights together. Hank decided her skin was the softest he had ever felt and her scent the spicyist. Just like her personality. She may come off as tough, but there was a core of pure goo underneath. He picked up the phone and placed an order.
***
Glory finished up her work for the day late. Casey left hours ago, so she was surprised to hear a knock on her office door. The door opened and a man’s head peaked through.
“The office is closed,” Glory said as her hand reached into her desk drawer. You didn’t see as many murder victims as she did and not take precautions. She was a crack shot.
“Sorry to startle you, Dr. Vandenburg. My name is Toby MacEnery and I am a freelance reporter. Hank Garcia gave me your name and said you would talk to me. My friends call me Mac.”
“Well, Mr. MacEnery, I will not talk to you so you need to leave. All information to the press will go through Lieutenant Garcia. Goodnight.” Her steely glare let Mac know he would get nowhere with her, so with a shrug of his shoulders, he left.
Glory was exhausted. Turning off her computer, she watered her fern and turned out the lights.
As she left the building, she walked to Amos’ desk. “How did that reporter get in?” Glory said.
“He gave me your card and said he had an appointment with you. That Lieutenant Garcia had called and set it up with you. Did I mess up?” Amos looked upset. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Vandenburg, I should have called up.”
“Yes, Amos, you should have. It’s okay, but don’t do it again.” Glory walked out to the parking garage to find ’Mac” leaning up against her car. Her hand went into her purse to grab her taser.
“Mr. MacEnery, please step away from my car or I will consider you a threat and act accordingly.” Glory looked him straight in the eye and squared her shoulders.
“Wait a minute, I’m not a threat. I just want to get some information. Garcia said you were the one who figured out there was a serial killer in play. I want to get your perspective on this case. Come on, give a guy a break.” Mac tried his best smile on Glory and was disappointed by her lack of response.
“Move away now or else.”
Mac made the mistake of stepping toward Glory, sure he could charm an interview out of her. Glory pulled out the taser and pointed it at him. “Stop, turn around, and leave.”
Mac looked astounded. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Not at all.”
“Okay, okay. I get the message.” Mac backed up.
“It’s about time. Now leave.” Glory breathed a sigh of relief when Mac did just that. Her stomach was in a knot and growled. Need something to eat, Glory thought. She got in and started up the car deciding on fast food tonight because she was too tired to cook.
When she got home, she fed the girls and poured herself a glass of wine. Didn’t really go with a burger, but who cares. She bit into the burger and sighed. Glory thought she would just go to bed. Today was a long day. Another murder, an almost murder, and now the whole city would know about it. Her cell rang.
“Hey, Glory,” Aaron’s deep voice was the best thing to happen to her today.
“Hi.”
“I heard there was another murder. Did they catch him?”
“Wow, news sure got to you fast.”
“Yes, but considering Hank already talked to Candace and Candace was with us...” Aaron paused.
“Sorry I snapped at you.” Glory went on to tell Aaron about her night and the encounter with MacEnery.
“Candace said he tried to get information from her right after she got here.”
“Did he succeed?” Glory said.
“You’d have to know Candace better to know that no one gets anything out of her that she doesn’t want to give. She’s tough. Is everything still on for Friday?”
“Yes.” Glory said goodnight and headed to bed. This day needed to be over.
Chapter 20
Mercy paced the room, pulse racing and breathless. What to do, what to do. The plans were always so thought out, so well planned. Mercy felt pride that the missions were always worked out to the smallest detail. Now, not sure where to go next, Mercy finally sat down and pulled out the list of potential patients. What would happen to these poor people now if they couldn’t count on Mercy for help? The mission was not over.
***
The last few days were a mess. Hank hated dealing with the press who seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Since he was honoring the deal with Mac, all the other reporters got was a ’no comment.’ Jeffries came through with a short list of suppliers and collectors. Browder and the team were still interviewing lab technicians and employees of the Research Lab. Hank looked at the first name on the short list of suppliers he was to interview: Phillip Woods, a zoologist, herpatolgist on sabbatical from the University.
Hank knocked on the door of a condo in downtown. A tall slender thirty something year old man answered the door. He had a distracted look that only turned to confused when Hank introduced himself.
“What can I do for you detective,” Phillip asked as he led Hank into a well ordered living room. Nothing was out of place.
“It’s Lieutenant,” Hank said. “I would like to ask you some questions about a case I’m working on.”
“Don’t know how I could help you,” Phillip said. “Please, have a seat.”
Hank sat on the white sofa and looked around the room. “Nice place you have here.”
“Thank you. Now what’s this all about?” Phillip looked irritated. “You’re interrupting my work.”
“I won’t take much of your time. Have you seen the news within the last two days?”
“No. I don’t watch television. My work takes all my time.”
“Your work may be important for this particular case.”
“Which is?”
“I’m investigating a series of murders that use a poison from the Golden Dart frogs, and your name was given to me by Dr. Jeffries as an expert on them, as well as obtaining specimens for him.”
“First of all, bactrachotoxin is a toxin, to be precise, since it is produced by a living organism. All toxins are poison, but not all poisons are toxins. Second, I haven’t brought in a specimen for at least a year. I’ve been working on my doctorate.”
“How do you bring specimens into the country.”
“I’m licensed by the U.S. Game and Wildlife and bring all my specimens in through Miami’s port. They go through quarantine for thirty days and then are sent to the Lab,” Phillip said.
“Do you have any other clients you bring in specimens for?”
“Not really. There was an anthropologist a year or so ago who brought in some specimens. He knew how to handle the Darts properly because he lived with the Embera tribe in South America and they use the toxin for hunting.”
“”Do you remember his name?” Hank watched as Woods fidgeted, his legs crossing and uncrossing and his hands were never still. “Do you have any frogs here?”
“Yes, I do. Just a few from my last trip.” Phillip looked toward the bedroom door.
“Can I see them?”
“Why?”
“Just curious. Are your frogs still poisonous?”
Phillip repeated a lecture about the toxin cycle of the frogs that Hank already knew, but he let Phillip ramble on because talking seem to calm him. Phillip stood and motioned for Hank to follow. They went to the bedroom door and when it opened, Hank felt the warm, moist air. Two large tanks, each filled with greenery and a small pond, occupied the space. Phillip had 2 Rainbow frogs in one tank and two Golden and one Emerald in the other.
“All my frogs are still toxic and probably will be for another year,” Phillip said.
Hank looked around the room and noticed again that everything was meticulous. “You didn’t say if you knew the anthropologist’s name,” Hank said. “How do you handle your frogs?”
“Very carefully,” Phillip gave a small laugh.“And not very often. I can’t remember his name, but I think he was from the University.”
“Do you collect any toxin for your use?” Hank said.
“No. What would I use it for? But, every once and awhile I take some over to Jeffries.”
Phillip escorted Hank back to the front door. “If that’s all, I need to get back to my work.”
“What is your doctorate about?” Hank said from the doorway.
“Nothing you would understand, Lieutenant. Goodbye.” The door closed as Hank stepped back to keep his face intact. Not a very friendly guy, Hank thought. Sure acts like he’s hiding something. Nervous type. And either he was an obssessive clean freak or had the world’s best housekeeper. No man lived in a place that neat. He fit the basic description of the killer’s height and eye color, but that was too general. Hank decided to try and pin down the anthropologist next.
When Hank arrrived at the Administrative office, he went to the Human Resources Department. The secretary at the front desk looked up and smiled.
“How may I help you?”
“I’m looking for a member of your faculty. He’s an anthropologist, but I’m afraid I don’t know his name.”
“What is this in reference to?” she said.
“My name is Hank Garcia and I’m a Lieutenant for the Miami Police Department.” Hank showed her his credentials. “This is part of an ongoing investigation and this man may have some helpful information.”
“You’re not going to arrest him are you?” she smiled as she looked up. She was cute, but very young.
“Nope,” Hank returned the smile. “Didn’t even bring my cuffs. Can you help me find him?”
“Let me see, I do have a list of faculty by department. We do have wonderful Anthropology programs. Do you know what branch he’s in: cultural, physical, linguistic or archeology?”
“Sorry, didn’t know there was so much to choose from. All I do know is this particular Anthropologist lived with some natives in South America.” Hank checked his notes. “The Embera, I believe.”
“Oh, that’s Dr. Andrew Melton. He’s a wonderful professor. The kids all love him. Makes you feel whatever culture your studying. He’s a charming man.”
“You sound like you’re a big fan,” Hank said.
“Oh, I am. I took one of his survey classes. He almost made me want to change my major.”
“Well, where would I find him, Miss...?” Hank smiled and leaned on the desk.
“It’s just Stephanie,” she blushed. “I have the number of his office. You can call for an appointment to talk with him.” She wrote a number on a file card and handed it to Hank.
“Thank you.” With a last smile, Hank left the office. He pulled out his cell and dialed the number. After speaking with the secretary and scheduling a meeting after the day’s classes, he headed back to the station to see if Browder had come up with anything.
***
The day was almost over and Glory was looking forward to tonight’s poker game with Aaron. She sent Hank the autopsy results of the last victim. Cause of death was cardiovascular as with all the other cases and the mouth confirmed as the site of entry for the toxin. She thought about the case and wondered what the killer would do now. She kept wondering how the patients were selected. There had to be a method. Different diagnosis, different facilities. There had to be a common thread. What did the patients have in common?
Glory leaned back as her lower back complained. She stood and stretched to try and get her muscles to relax. Sitting so long was murder and her backache let her know it. What a pain! Wait a minute...pain. What had Angela said about the toxin? Something about it being investigated as a treatment for pain. She called Hank and the call went straight to voicemail.
“Hank, this is Glory. I had a thought on his victim selection method. Call me.” Her back line rang as she disconnected.
“Hey, Glory,” Claire’s voice sounded happy. “Guess what I just got?”
“Is it bigger that a bread box?”
“No.”
“Is it contagious?”
“Very funny,” Claire laughed. “I just received a large box of dark chocolate covered strawberries.”
“Yum. From a secret admirer?” Glory teased.
“No. You know sometimes you can be a real pain in the ass. They’re from Hank.”
“So, I take it you and Hank had a good time last Friday?” Glory smiled.
Claire spent the next few minutes singing Hank’s praises. Since Glory felt pretty much the same about Aaron, she understood.
“How did it go with Aaron?” Claire stopped to take a breath and Glory could hear her bite into a berry.
“We spent the weekend together and he even passed the ’meet the family’ test.”
“Wow, he’s a brave man. And so soon.”
“Yes, and he’s playing poker with us tonight. Are you and Hank doing anything?” Glory signed off her computer and closed up her desk.
“I’m not sure. He hasn’t called yet, if not for the gift, I’d be worried.” Another berry bit the dust.
“So, why don’t you call and thank him?” Glory suggested. Sometime the girl’s got to make the move. “He has been busy, you know.”
“Good idea.”
“Talk to you later.”
Glory rushed home to get ready for the Friday night game. She grabbed a bite, showered and blow-dried her hair. She looked through her jeans and picked a snug pair with embellished back pockets. Can’t hurt to call a man’s attention to a well-toned butt. She took particular care with her makeup. Takes a lot of skill to make it look natural. She just hoped her brothers didn’t feel it necessary to comment.
Glory’s phone rang and she saw it was Hank. “Hey, Hank. Thanks for returning my call.”
“Sure. Sorry to bother you at home, but I just got your message. What’s up?”
“I was thinking about the victims and how the killer selected them. Angela said that this toxin was being investigated as a pain relief medication. Pain is one thing all the victims had in common.”
“Yeah, Glory, but it’s being developed. Nothing is approved.”
“I know, but what if these patients were part of or considered for a clinical trial. The killer could have access to their records through the data of the selection process.”
“I’ll look into it, Glory. Thanks.”
Aaron arrived right on time and they headed to Paul’s house. The front lights were on and Paul opened the door before they knocked.
“The money’s here,” Paul shouted back to the kitchen.
“I did tell you I was adopted, right?” Glory said to Aaron. “I don’t share any DNA with these bozos.”
There were six players for the game. Glory’s brothers, Paul and Peter, her cousins, Charlie and Ryan all took their seats after the introductions. Beers were opened, cards dealt and the betting began. After a few hands, Glory felt a touch on her leg and smiled. Aaron, bless him, was trying to distract her. And damn, it was working. She smiled, sipped her beer, then slowly licked her lips and was gratified when he blushed.
“Do you two need a moment?” Peter said. “We’re playing poker here.”
“You’re just cranky cause you’re losing,” Glory said.
The night progressed and the cousins were cleaned out first. They said their goodbyes and left. Paul was next and grumbled about unwanted guests letting themselves out when the game was over. Aaron was next and sat back to watch the siblings duke it out. At 1 AM, Peter and Glory agreed to a draw. Peter claiming bragging rights since draws didn’t happen too often. They turned off the lights and all headed out together.
“See you next time, sis,” Peter said. “And by the way, you sure looked hot tonight.” He laughed as he got in his car and drove off.
“I have to agree with your brother,” Aaron smiled and pulled her forward to kiss. After a few minutes, Paul’s front light flicked on and off a couple times.
“He’s such a jerk,” Glory muttered. “Let’s go.
Chapter 21
Hank was waiting outside Dr. Melton’s building sipping what must be his sixth cup of coffee for the day. A tall handsome man walked up and held out his hand.
“Lieutenant Garcia?” Dr. Melton smiled.
“Thank you for meeting me Dr. Melton. Hopefully, I won’t take up much of your time.”
“Anything to help. What can I do for you? You weren’t very clear on the phone. Something about a case you thought I could help you with. Don’t know what I could offer, but ask away.”
“Have you seen the news about a serial killer targeting terminally ill patients?”
“You mean the one the press is calling the Mercy Killer? Yes, I have. That is one sick psycho.”
“Well, the killer uses an unusual toxin. One I hear that you are acquainted with,” Hank said “Wait a minute, is this about bactrachotoxin?” Melton smiled as the realization dawned. “I know about this from my research with the Embera. That’s why you’re here.”
“Yes, I was hoping you could give us some insight on this method of killing.”
Dr. Melton seemed fascinated and more than happy to expound on one of his favorite topics. He talked about the tribe, their culture, and his experiences while with them. Hank interrupted.
“Dr. Melton, how do the natives collect the toxin?”
“The frogs have glands under their skin that secrete the toxin. If enough toxin was present, they’d just rub their darts over the skin, but sometimes they would pierce the frogs so they became agitated. This would cause the frog to excrete more. The darts and arrows were good for a year or so. Really quite remarkable.”
“Do you have any frog specimens?”
“Heavens no. Why would I want them? Terribly dangerous. Plus, you have to have a special permit to import them and they do require care. I travel way to often for that to be feasible.” Melton looked at his watch. “I have a late dinner engagement, if you have all you need.”
“Of course, thank you. If I think of anything else, can I call on you?”
“Yes, yes. Glad to be of help. Goodnight.” Melton raced up the steps and into the building. Hank walked to his car considering his first impressions of the doctor. He certainly was a gregarious and talkative individual, the opposite of Woods. He called Browder to tell him he was heading home. He was beat.
His cell rang as he put his key in the ignition. When he saw the name, he smiled. This was the highlight of his day. “Hi, Claire.”
“Hi. Just wanted to call and thank you for the strawberries. They’re delicious. Two of my favorite things. How did you know?”
“I’m a detective, didn’t you know?”
“Well then, Lieutenant, detect what I’m thinking right now?” Claire all but purred into the phone.
“Um...” Hank wasn’t tired anymore.
“How would you like a late dinner? I’m assuming of course, you haven’t eaten yet. I happen to make great spaghetti, if you’re interested.”
“What time?” Hank said.
“The sauce is made. I’ll put the noodles on when you get here.”
“I’m on my way.”
***
Mercy sat at the desk and looked through the list of people who needed help and Mercy decided others needed to understand this. Frantic fingers typed across the keyboard. The reporter, MacEnery, who seemed the logical choice, would receive an open letter composed to him. The draft, written and re-written until it was perfect, explained the necessity of what was done in the name of Mercy.
Since the sufferers could not be changed, Mercy decided another choice had to be made. The time, chosen to honor the dead, would be sacrificed for the continued success of the mission. Now, how to select an alternative time. Since mother’s estimated time of death was now discarded, her birthday was selected. Mercy proceeded with the new plans.
***
Hank acknowledged he wasn’t surprised when Tuesday’s stakeouts failed. The killer had gone to ground. He wondered how long before the obsession took over and another murder occurred. Tired of going over the interviews, having them almost memorized, Hank called Browder to see if he’d gotten any info on the drug trial angle. Pulling teeth would have been easier. The medical bureaucracy was only exceeded by the legal.
“Yo,” Browder answered.
“Any luck?”
“Yeah, finally. Even with the subpoena, they resisted... but promised I’d get the info by five.”
“I’ll be here.” Hank hung up and his phone rang almost immediately.
“Hi, Hank,” Glory said.
“Hi, yourself. What’s up?”
“You’re not going to like this.”
“Not liking much these days.” Hank quipped.
“I think we have another murder.”
“Shit. When and who?”
“I was just finishing the Thursday’s report when a terminal case caught my attention. Don’t ask me why, but I asked for an autopsy. The labs, of course, won’t be back for a few days, but the oral inflammation was there just like the others. The patient’s name was Edith Adams. Time of death, Thursday, between ten and eleven.”
Hank hung up as Mac walked up to his desk. “What do you want, MacEnery?”
“A little respect, for starters. You’re going to thank me for this.” Mac handed Hank an envelop and plopped down on the chair.
“What’s this?”
“Just read. But handle with care.”
Hank looked at the envelop, then opened it and pulled out a letter by the corners. He sat up as he started reading, looking up at Mac. “When did you get this?”
“Right before I got here.”
“You printing this?”
“Guess that’s what I’m asking you.”
Hank looked, really looked at the reporter for a moment. “You mean to tell me you would withhold this letter, if I asked you too?” Hank was stunned.
“No, I couldn’t do that, but I thought I’d give you a head’s up and maybe it would help.”
“Well, for this, you’ve got some respect. Let me run it up the chain of command and I’ll get right back to you. Anyone else get a letter?”
“Not that I know of. It was addressed to me personally. It sounds like he wants me to be his voice.”
“Can I make a copy? I want the analyst to see this. Get her take.”
“Sure. Is that Dr. Adams?” Mac smiled.
“Yeah. You know her?” Hank said.
“You could say that. I’d like to interview her, if you’d give the okay. Don’t think she’d talk to me otherwise.”
“Okay by me. I’ll tell her when I show her the letter.” Hank slipped the letter into a clear cover before running two copies. Keeping the original, he handed a copy back to Mac. The men shook hands and Mac left. Hank showed the letter to Browder then headed for the Captain’s office.
The discussion didn’t last that long. They decided to let Mac go ahead with publishing the letter when he was ready. Dr. Adams was called and agreed to come right away. Hank sat at his desk and called Glory to give her the information. He read the letter to her and was just hanging up when Candace entered.
“Thanks for coming so quickly,” Hank smiled and motioned Candace into the chair.
“I must admit to being intrigued. I want to read the letter.”
“Here’s a copy. The original was sent to the lab for prints. And by the way, I’ve given him the okay to interview you. If you’re willing.” Hank handed the copy to Candace and sat back as she read. He thought she’d be great at poker because her facial expression never changed.
“Stop staring at me,” Candace said without looking up.
“I’m just anxious to hear what you have to say. I’m hoping the letter gives you a clue on who he or she is.”
“I’m thinking it’s a man. That’s my first impression. The phrasing sounds masculine if a little bit emotional. Men are usually a little more reticent and uncomfortable expressing emotions than women, and this reads like the writer wasn’t very comfortable with the feelings he voiced. Let me be specific.” She read:
“I am a person of mercy. Today we live with a medical practice that can keep us and our loved ones alive way beyond what nature intended. How can we consider ourselves a just and humane society when we prolong the needless pain and suffering our brothers and sisters experience? We don’t treat our animals this way. Caring for the unfortunate victims of disease drains us emotionally, physically, spiritually, and financially. The time must come when we can say enough.
The media calls me a murderer, but I’m not. My mission is to grant each and every sufferer freedom from the chains that are binding them. The Hippocratic Oath states the first rule is to do no harm. I contend that by not allowing persons to choose to end their suffering, we do great harm.
As with all great missions, innocents have suffered. For that, I am truly sorry. I grieve with their families, but cannot turn aside from my mission. I want everyone to know that I will be there for them should they ever need me. Signed, Mercy.”
“I don’t get what you’re saying,” Hank said.
“I’m saying this person has gone through a long and painful death with a family member. I’d bet a mother. He’s riddled with guilt over how he handled or should I say, didn’t handle, the situation. He’s on a mission to atone for that by alleviating the sufferings of others. That may be why the time was always the same because it was significant in one way or another. Maybe time of death. Then, after he was discovered, he changed the time, but I bet the new time has significance as well.”
Hank and Candace sat in silence for a moment. Hank thought about what steps he wanted to take next. Going over death records would be ponderous to say the least.
“I’d start by looking at death records from the year before the killings started, focusing on older women who died on Tuesdays between six and seven,” Candace said.
“I was just thinking of that.”
“Good. Now if that is all?” Candace rose from the chair and smoothed her skirt.
“Thanks. And don’t forget Mac. He’s been decent about this whole case.”
“You have no idea,” Candace smiled and waved her fingers.
When she left the precinct, Mac was waiting for her on the sidewalk. She walked up to him and stopped almost nose to nose. “Hello, Mac.”
Mac had to say she was a damn fine looking woman, but scary as hell. He wasn’t use to feeling intimidated, but she sure affected him that way. “Would you talk to me on the record?” Mac said.
“Sure, but not on the sidewalk. If you don’t mind.”
“How about a drink at Murphy’s. It’s just around the corner.”
“Okay.” The two turned as one and walked down and around the corner, entering the bar and taking a seat, without a word passing between them. Drinks were ordered and Mac took out his recorder.
“Ready?” Mac asked.
Candace nodded her head. She crossed her long shapely legs and Mac paused a moment to enjoy the view remembering them wrapped around him. He shifted in his seat and noticed other male patrons enjoying the view she provided. When he looked into Candace’s face, he knew she was aware of her power and not the least hesitant to use it. Their drinks were delivered and Candace smiled at him as she took her first sip. Mac couldn’t help but think of the cheshire cat.
“Dr. Adams,” Mac said after clearing his throat, “can you give me your assessment of Mercy and the motive for killing the victims chosen.”
“Well, I believe the killer is motivated by guilt. Possibly from not helping a significant loved one from suffering a prolonged painful death. In my estimation, probably his mother.”
“His mother? So you think the killer is a man?”
“Most likely. And probably very dependent on his mother. Most poisoners were either spoiled as children or had an unhappy childhood.”
“It’s all mommy’s fault?” Mac interjected.
“There’s a combination of things involved. There are plenty of spoiled or unhappy childhoods that don’t produce a serial killer. There’s a defect in the personality or brain chemistry perhaps that contributes to the making of a serial killer. Rituals are important and they have a touch of the artistic dreamer temperament. Live a great fantasy life. This killer gets off on playing different roles. Likes disguises.” Candace filled Mac in on her conversation with Hank.
“Why did it take the police so long to realize the killings were going on?”
“The killer was methodical and paid attention to details. Kept the murders to one a week. You must remember the victims were terminal, expected to die, so suspicion was slow to develop. I am surprised the killer controlled his behavior as long as he did. Serial killers escalate. The sense of power, justification, is addicting. They think they’re smarter than everyone else. I’m surprised he didn’t start to kill two or more at a time. Like a child eating candy...always wants more.”
“What is the choice of poison?” Mac was fascinated watching Candace sip her wine and Candace was enjoying his fascination. Perhaps, she thought, she should give him another tumble.
“They are not releasing that information.”
“How long have you worked with the FBI as an analyst?” Mac said.
“About six years now.”
“And your qualifications?”
“I was a practicing psychologist with a PhD in abnormal psychology from Johns Hopkins.” Candace shifted in her seat and for once looked uncomfortable. Mac knew there had to be something more to the story.
“What got you interested enough to leave a private practice,” Mac said.
“That is not relevant to this interview. If you don’t have any further questions, I’m tired. It’s been a long day.” Candace stood and left abruptly leaving Mac with his mouth hanging open. Definitely something there, he thought, but what?
Chapter 22
The Mercy Killer’s letter received major coverage from newspaper, radio, and social media. Morning talk shows delved into the history of mercy killers and the controversy surrounding the topic. Proponents of Dr. Kevorkian discussed the laws of Florida versus the laws of other states. Oregon, Washington, California, Vermont and Montana legalized physician assisted suicides years ago. Thirty eight states declared it illegal and the remaining states sat in limbo.
***
Mercy read the article by Mac in a red haze. This Dr. Candace Adams slighted ’his’ mother, ridiculed her and ’his’ upbringing. Who did this bitch think she was? She didn’t know mother. She doesn’t know me. Pacing the room, Mercy stopped in front of a cage. She thinks she knows me, Mercy thought. She doesn’t know me as well as she thinks. And MacEnery failed as spokesperson.
***
For the next few days, Hank, Browder, and the task force felt buried in records. Medical records from the study application process and death certificates of women who died on a Tuesday afternoon. Being blurry eyed and caffeine overdosed made both surly and the other officers gave them a wide berth. Fuentes seemed to be on a mission of her own. She was sharp and Hank decided to keep an eye on her for the future.
Thursday stakeouts were planned and the officers took their stations. Nothing happened at any of the usual facilities. No one was prepared for where Mercy would strike next.
Candace left FBI headquarters and noticed a panhandler standing in front of the building, cup in hand. His odor was strong enough for passersby to give him a wide berth and Candace was no exception.
“What’sa matter lady? Too good to help a poor slob like me? Can’t get your clean white hands dirty? Afraid?”
The last word got Candace’s attention and she stopped. Pulling out her wallet, she tossed a twenty into his cup.
“There, happy? Get a bath with the change.” Candace turned to walk away when the man grabbed her arm.
“You’ll be sorry you talked like that about my mother.”
Candace looked down at his dirty gloves. “Get your hand off me before I call the police.”
The man’s other hand flashed forward and swiped her arm. “There you go, bitch.”
Candace froze, and in that moment, she knew she was dead. She turned to run back to FBI headquarters, but her heart fibrillated before she could get through the door. An agent saw her fall and ran to her side. She grabbed his shirt. “The bum,” she said gasped before her eyes glazed over.
Yelling for assistance, the agent looked up to see the panhandler walking quickly down the street. He started CPR and when others arrived to help, he turned over the resuscitation attempt to run after the disappearing figure. The suspect had turned the corner and by the time the agent followed, there was no bum in sight. He looked down the street and walked forward looking into the windows of the local shops. No one looked suspicious.
A shaggy, smelly bum had gone into the coffee shop restroom, but a clean cut young man walked out wearing shorts and a tee shirt, his disguise discarded into the bottom of the trash. He ordered a cup of double latte and walked out. He saw the agent going up and down the street and smiled. Once again, the idiots had been fooled.
Aaron, Hank and Browder stood in the lobby of the FBI offices. The coroner’s office had just taken Candace’s body. They spoke to the agent who chased the bum. Once again, the disguise had prevented the killer’s apprehension.
“Shit,” Hank said. “Never thought he’d go after anyone outside of his mission.”
“She must have hit a nerve with her interview. That means she was right. It also means we’re on the right track trying to find the mother,” Browder said.
“No one talks to the reporter’s but me from here on,” Hank ordered. “Did she have any family?”
“I don’t know,” Aaron said. “I’ll have to look into it.”
The three men stood in silence as Mac ran through the doors and into the lobby. Seeing them, he rushed over looking more upset than Hank could figure.
“What happened,” Mac asked breathless. He felt lightheaded. He felt responsible. He felt guilt.
“Looks like Mercy didn’t like what she had to say, we think,” Hank said. “That means she was too good at her job and he felt threatened.”
“That bastard,” Mac muttered.
“It also means he may go after you,” Aaron added. “You better be real careful.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Get real. That’s probably what Candace thought too. Kinda hard to protect yourself from a swipe on the arm,” Hank said. “If he’s mad at her for what she said, he’s mad at you for printing it. I bet he thinks you let him down. You were supposed to be his spokesperson. You’re the only one who got the letter.”
Mac paled as he thought about Hank’s words over. He’d covered big storied before, but had never been a target. Now he felt a big bullseye on his back that only added to his rage. Candace hadn’t deserved to die and he was pissed.
“I’ll be careful, but he’ll be sorry. He wants a spokesman, he’ll get one. Just not the way he planned.” With recorder in hand, Mac went to the agent who saw the bum. After interviewing him and getting a description, he walked down the street following the footsteps ’Mercy’ had taken.
There were officers on the street going in and out of shops and offices and looking through garbage barrels. Mercy had to change somewhere. Mac needed some coffee to settle his nerves, so walked into a coffee shop.
“Coffee, black,” Mac said to the barista who was looking out the front window with the customers.
“Sure,” she said. “Do you know what’s going on out there?”
“Yeah. They’re trying to track a bum that came down this street. Did you see any?”
“Yes, I did,” said a woman in the corner. “One came in and went into the men’s room.”
“I didn’t notice,” the barista said.
“You were busy. I was working on my computer and might have missed him too, but I noticed his smell. Anyway, he ran right to the bathroom.”
“Did you see him come out?” Mac asked.
“No. I went back to my work. But I think I’d have smelled him again if he came out.”
Mac walked back to the men’s room and opened the door with caution. He didn’t see anyone in there, but a bad smell was there. He let the door close and returned to the counter.
“No one is to go into the men’s room. I’ll go get the officers.” With that Mac went out to the street and signalled an officer down the block.
Hank and Aaron walked into the coffee shop. They questioned the witness and she agreed to try and give a description for the artist. Forensics showed up and the bathroom was taped off. The clothes were tagged and bagged, the sinks and toilets gone over and swabbed.
“There will be a lot of DNA here. Even the clothes,” Hank said.
“All we need is some DNA from a suspect to match it too.” Aaron walked over to Mac sitting by the front window and sipping coffee. “Good job. Thanks for the help, Mac.”
“Wish it was more.” Mac continued to stare out the window. “Did she tell you I tried to get information out of her?”
“No.”
“Well, I did. And she put me in my place real good.”
“I bet she did.”
“She was one interesting lady.” Mac turned to look at Aaron. “Do you know anything about her?”
“Not really. She wasn’t one for small talk. Kept everything professional. I told Hank I’d have to look at her file to even know who to notify about her death.”
“Would you let me know?”
“Uh...”
“I don’t want to bother them, but I want to give my condolences. I can’t help but feel responsible.” Mac sat down at one of the tables and hung his head. A weight settled on his shoulders, one he’d never felt before.
“Okay, Mac. I’ll let you know.” Aaron patted Mac on the back and an awkward silence descended. There really wasn’t anything else he could say. “Watch your back.” With that Aaron left to return to his office. Calling family was never easy.
***
Glory sat at her desk and stared at the computer screen. Candace’s death hit all of them hard. Knowing they could all be targets of something as simple as a swipe on the arm was frightening. How could anyone protect themselves from something so minor, so deadly. Even if help was right there, there was no antidote. She felt guilty that she hadn’t been friendlier. She dialed Aaron needing to hear his voice.
“Hi,” Aaron answered his cell on the first ring. “I was just going to call you.”
“Hard day,” Glory said quietly. “I’m so sorry. Were you able to reach any family?”
“Yeah...listen...I need to get out of here. How about meeting me for dinner? Anywhere you want to go.”
“My place,” Glory smiled. “Clothing optional.”
Glory shutdown her computer and walked out the door.
“Casey, I’m leaving a little early tonight. Please be sure the office is locked.”
“Yes, boss. I’m real sorry about the doc.” Casey’s usual bright face was somber and her voice subdued. “Are you scared?” she asked softly.
“You have nothing to be scared about Casey,” Glory smiled trying to reassure the young secretary.
“How about you?”
“Don’t think so. I stay away from the newspapers. Be sure you do, too. Night.” Glory tried to sound confident, but she walked to her car looking all around. There were a few people in the garage, but apart from a wave, no one approached her.
Chapter 23
Preparing a meal and straightening the bedroom soothed Glory’s nerves. She set the pepper chicken in the oven to keep warm and started the water for the noodles. The wine was chilling and the table set, now all she needed was the man...and did she ever need the man right now. She had a feeling he needed her too. The doorbell rang and Glory padded on barefeet to answer.
Aaron stood in the doorway for a brief second before stepping forward and took her in his arms. They stood together in silence for a moment before Glory pulled him into the condo and closed the door. She wrapped her arms around him again and curled into his shoulder giving him the time she thought he needed. Aaron sighed and pulled back enough to look down into Glory’s eyes.
“What happened?” Glory asked. Aaron’s troubled eyes seemed like more than just grief.
“Can we talk?”
“Of course. Just let me turn off the stove. Want a glass of wine or a beer?”
“A beer, please.” Aaron sat on the couch and leaned back closing his eyes as Glory went to the stove. She got his beer and poured her wine then joined him on the couch.
“Talk to me,” Glory said.
Aaron took a long pull on his beer and looked at her. “I looked through Candace’s file. I had no idea what she’d gone through. Seems she had an older brother, the apple of her parent’s eyes. However, he turned into a serial killer. Candace and her brother were close by all accounts, until after she graduated and started her practice. Seems he had a fiancee who ran off with another man and he went crazy. She started getting phone calls from him at all hours of the day and night. His behavior became angry and erratic. She tried to get him to get help, but he wouldn’t. She tried to talk to her parents, but he told the parents she was lying about everything. That she was jealous.” Aaron took another drink and put the bottle on the table wiping his hands up and down his pant legs.
“Then what happened?”
“Bodies started to appear. Three women and all fit the general description of his fiancee. When Candace finally realized the victims in the paper looked like the fiancee, she confronted her brother. He tried to kill her.”
“Oh, God, how horrible. How did she get away?”
“Luck. She kicked him in the groin and ran like hell when he went down. She called the police and he was arrested.”
“That poor family. How awful for those parents.”
“Wish I could agree, but after talking to them, they can go to hell as far as I’m concerned.”
“Why? What did they say?”
“They said she got what she deserved after what she did to her brother. They don’t believe he’s a killer or that he tried to kill Candace. They haven’t spoken to her since the trial after she testified against her brother. He’s in an institution for the criminally insane and they blame her.”
“That is what I’d call major denial. Is that when she closed her practice and came to work with the FBI?” Glory sipped her wine and said a silent thank you for her loud, obnoxious, and loyal family.
“Yeah,” Aaron finished his beer and the two sat in silence, each with their own thoughts.
“No wonder she kept herself so separate from everyone. How do you trust anyone again when the closest family you have turns against you like that.” Glory shook her head in disbelief. She couldn’t picture anyone in her family not believing what she said...calling her a liar. She would be devastated.
“Didn’t you say something about dinner? I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Okay. I just need to cook the noodles and we’re good to go.”
Glory gave him another beer and left him to relax as she finished in the kitchen. She set everything out on the table and called him in to eat.
“Smells wonderful,” Aaron said as he sat down. “Smart, beautiful, and she can cook. Who knew?”
The meal was a subdued affair. After they cleared the table, Glory took Aaron’s hand and led him to the bedroom. Their lovemaking was slow and tender at first, comfort offered and received. Then the passion flared as they celebrated the life they still shared, the life denied to Candace. They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.
***
Friday morning Hank woke at his desk with a stiff neck and a surly growl. Coffee, must have coffee. He stumbled into the break room to pour a cup. He nodded to a few other officers and returned to the pile of papers on his desk. Browder came over and sat in the chair by the desk looking equally tired and disgruntled.
“Any luck?” Hank said.
“Nothing yet. How about Fuentes?” No sooner than mentioned, Fuentes came into the office carrying a large folder.
“Morning,” she said, “I think I may have found the study the victims were selected from, or at least of few of them.” She pulled out a study from a pharmaceutical research team looking into the use of neurotoxins for pain control. “There’s actually two different studies from related compounds. I’ve marked the applications of the victims that were positively identified or suspected.”
“Which research team?” Hank said.
“University Pharmaceutical.”
“Good work, Fuentes.” She handed the file to Hank and left.
“We need to dig a little deeper into the backgrounds of the research team.” Hank thumbed through the data Fuentes found.
“Don’t imagine they’d all agree to giving DNA samples,” Browder said.
“No, don’t think Trent would let them. Besides, have nothing to compare it too. You get to work on the backgrounds and I’ll keep going on the death records. We’ve gone through the year before the killings started, now I’m going back another year.”
“You didn’t find any possibles?”
“Yeah, a few. I know Candace said most likely a mother, but I’ve found a couple of fathers that fit the bill. So far, no real strong candidates. There are so many ’estimated time of deaths’ that it’s hard to narrow the time down. I’ll give you the list and you can see if any cross over when the team does the background checks.”
Browder returned to his desk and Hank switched on his computer. He put in the search for 2013 and sat back to think. They thought the killer a man, a man talented with disquises, knowledgeable in science, who knew hospital routines. His thoughts went around in circles and he finally had to admit fatique was blocking any progress. He needed a good night’s sleep, but getting one was debatable.
Claire’s face swam before his eyes. A night with Claire was just what the doctor ordered, but he wondered if she’d be willing to play nurse. He dialed her number, but it went to voicemail so he left his invitation and returned to Fuentes file.
An hour later his phone rang and Claire’s voice was a welcomed distraction.
“Hi,” Claire said. “Just got your message and I’d love to have dinner. Where do you want to go?”
“You pick. My brain is ready to short out.”
“Rough investigation. I was sorry to hear about the psych consultant. Did you know her well?”
“Not really. Don’t think she let anyone know her well, but she knew her stuff.”
“Tell you what, I’m not that great a cook, but I can do the basics if you just want to kick back and relax.”
“Sounds great to me,” Hank said. “What time?”
“Seven, and Hank...”
“Yes?”
“Come prepared.”
Hank’s laugh got an amused look from Browder and a few lifted eyebrows from the others. After staring them down, Hank returned to his search with a renewed energy and the afternoon flew by. After showering and changing at home, he headed over to Claire’s apartment.
When Claire opened the door, his breath caught in his throat and his blood left his head for more exciting regions. Her generous curves were covered in gossamer layers of cloth that gave tantalizing glimpses of what was beneath. He stood dumb as Claire took his hand and led him to the sofa where a beer awaited. She unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and slid her hands down his chest.
“Sit,” she commanded. He obeyed.
Claire walked around behind him and began to massage his shoulders, her fingers surprisingly strong. The talented fingers relaxed and soothed his tense shoulders then slid up the back of his neck to his head. Hank sank back into the sofa and sighed. Claire was a surprise. He never expected this kind of pampering from the feisty and dynamic prosecutor. Her hands moved down passed his shoulders and over his chest. He could feel her soft breasts pressed against the back of his head. With a low growl, he reached around and pulled her down and onto his lap, his mouth descending to hers.
The next hour Hank and Claire urged each other on with an intensity that surprised them both. When finally spent, they found themselves on the floor in a tangle of clothes hastily shed.
“Well, dessert was exceptional,” Hank smiled. “What’s for dinner?”
Claire laughed and extracted herself from the clothing rising to stand before him. Hank moved to sit on the couch and wrapped both arms around her waist putting his face between her breasts. She stroked his head as he nuzzled her gently.
“Drink your beer,” Claire said and moved out of his arms. “I better feed you. Gotta keep up your strength.” She gathered up her peignoir and slipped it on. The sight of her hardened him once more. She walked into the kitchen and opened the oven door where a pot of chili was being kept warm. She pulled it out and put some corn bread sitting on the counter into the microwave. The smell made Hank realize just how hungry he was.
The two worked together in the kitchen, set the table with the natural rhythm of a couple who had done this before, instead of new found lovers. Hank ate two bowls of chili topped with cheese and sour cream and three slices of cornbread. He appreciated Claire talking small talk and letting his mind clear of the case. He surprised himself by laughing at a few very lame jokes, so bad they were funny. Claire was amazing. The more he got to know her, the more infatuated he became. Warning bells rang in his head and he just thought, the hell with it. Claire was worth the risk.
They worked together to clean up the kitchen and before Hank could ask, Claire said one word,
“stay.” Hank followed her back the the bedroom. Tonight was one night the Mercy Murderer would be forgotten.
Chapter 24
There were no suspicious deaths the next week as the task force narrowed down the field of suspects. University Pharmaceuticals topped the list with three possibles, Adam Trent, Franklin Jeffries, Timothy Thompson, and the other two were Phillip Woods and Andrew Melton. Hank didn’t think Melton or Jeffries as likely because he just plain liked them. Woods and Trent would get his vote, but he had to follow the evidence.
Trent’s father died three years ago of a brain tumor; Jeffries’ mother of Lou Gehrig’s or ALS. They couldn’t find any information on Timothy Thompson so they’d have to ask him in interview. Andrew Melton’s mother was still alive and healthy by all accounts, but his father’s location was unknown. His parents had divorced when he was a child. Phillip Woods grew up in the foster care system being left at a hospital’s emergency room when he was three months old. His foster parent’s were both alive and well.
The debate in the press was waning with no new victim, the public’s attention shifted to the current terrorist threat. The murder of terminally ill patients had restarted a debate, but nothing changed.
***
Mac sat staring at his screen. Something had to happen to break this investigation open. Hank wouldn’t tell him if there were any suspects, he just kept saying “we’re following all leads.” Candace’s face flashed before his eyes and his resolved strengthened. Mercy wrote an open letter to the public, he’d write his own letter and hope his editor would publish it.
To Mercy,
You say you have a mission. What gives you the right to that mission? What gives you the right to take the lives of people who can’t defend themselves? You are not family, you don’t know their wishes.
You are a murderer. Mary Carstairs wasn’t ill. She spent her life caring for others and you ended it. You killed Matt Forman, a young and hard working student. Then you killed Candace Adams. Why? Did she make you angry? How are those deaths a part of your mission? The line has been crossed. You are a murderer...nothing merciful about that.
Mac sat back in his chair. He’d done his research on Candace and it only made him feel worse. She’d had it rough the last seven years. He rubbed his eyes and decided to hit the sack. Maybe in the morning an idea would strike. He hit send.
***
Mercy lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The mission, it was supposed to be about the mission; releasing the sufferers from their pain. Letting them move on. How did one slide down into killing? The nurse had been instinctive, wrong place at the wrong time. Mercy didn’t even know what happened with the student.
Mother had always warned Mercy about acting out in anger. Mercy regretted acting so hastily and killing the doctor. Her death didn’t help the mission, in fact, it hurt the mission. But, while laying here, Mercy admitted wanting the adrenalin rush that came with each person’s release. What is wrong with me? Fear tingled through freezing Mercy.
***
Hank and Browder went to University Pharmaceuticals. Interviews were scheduled this morning. Trent was first. Security let them through and escorted them to his office. Trent’s secretary made them wait in the outer office for fifteen minutes before sending them back.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Trent said. “I was on the phone.” Trent motioned them to the chairs in front of his desk. Hank smiled to himself when he noted the seats were lower than Trent’s. The man didn’t miss a trick.
“No problem,” Hank said with a smile. “We were a little early. We just wanted to ask you a few questions.”
“Go ahead. Ask.”
Browder started out asking Trent questions about his career and his climb up University’s administrative ladder. Trent started in research but found his niche on the organization side. His skills in budgeting led to further advancement. As Trent told of his career, he seemed to relax, leaning back in his chair and settling his hands on the armrests.
“Sorry to hear about your father’s passing,” Hank said during a pause.
“How did you know about that?” Trent said leaning forward.
“He was a founder of University Pharmaceuticals. I read about him on the company’s website. How did he die?”
“He had a brain tumor.”
“Where was he treated?” Browder said.
“He was diagnosed at the Cancer Center here in Miami.”
“Did he have his surgery there?”
“No. His tumor was inoperable.”
“Chemo then?”
“He declined chemo.”
“That must have been rough for you and your mother,” Hank said. “How long was he sick before he passed?”
“How’s that any of your business? I’d rather not talk of it.”
“Since Mercy is targeting terminally ill patients and I’m sure you read the letter in the paper, we feel there is a personal motivation to his targets.” Hank watched as Trent’s face reddened and swelled with indignation.
“I assure you I had nothing to do with the killings. My father died because he chose not to fight. That’s all there was to it.” There was real grief and anger in Trent’s eyes.
“You sound angry,” Hank said.
“I am. He was a vital, healthy man. He should have at least tried. Instead he just let himself die.” Silence followed Trent’s outburst and Browder cleared his throat.
“Well, once again, we are sorry for your loss. Thank you for seeing us. Our next interview is with Jeffries. Where would we find him?”
“I’ll have my secretary direct you. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Hank and Browder got up and went out to the secretary’s desk. She picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Dr. Jeffries, the officers are here to speak with you.” She listened for a moment then hung up. “Dr. Jeffries says you may go to his office. I’ll take you there.”
Jeffries was waiting when they arrived and they were shown right to his office. Hank thought he looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes and a sadness Hank wondered about.
“How can I be of assistance today, Lieutenant,” Jeffries asked.
“We just have a few questions. Shouldn’t take too much of your time.”
“Fire away.”
“What precautions, if any, do you have regarding contact with the frogs?” Hank said.
“My techs have all been trained in handling our venomous or toxin producing subjects, be they plant, insect, amphibian, or reptile. Angela, Timothy and I, however, have the most contact. We collect the toxin on a schedule to maximize the quantity available for research. The subject and the quantity collected is noted in the log.”
“How possible would it be to falsify the data?” Hank said.
“Very possible as there is usually only one of us doing the collecting. The amount of toxin needed to be fatal is so minute that one swipe from a frog could kill multiple individuals.”
“How well do you know Angela Davies?” Browder said.
“As well as can be expected of co-workers. We’ve worked side-by-side for years.”
“And Timothy Thompson?”
“Not as well. Angela works more closely with him than I do.”
“Have you observed any unusual behaviors over the past year?” Browder said.
“Can’t say that I have. I find it very difficult to imagine any of my staff being involved with this. I know we have access, but what motive would we have? Our research is trying to alleviate pain.”
“And so is the killer,” Hank said. “If you read his letter in the paper, you see his motive. He thinks he’s helping to alleviate suffering. That kind of fits right in with your mission here, doesn’t it? Same mission, different route. Have you ever lost someone close to you?”
“Yes, I have. My mother died from Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis.”
“Lou Gehrig’s?”
“Yes.”
“When did she pass?” Browder said.
“About two and a half years ago.”
“It must have been very difficult for you.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Were you her caregiver?” Hank asked.
“I was an only child, so it was just my mother and I at the end. Dad left soon after she was diagnosed.”
“Couldn’t handle it?” Hank said.
“No. Their relationship was bad to begin with. They didn’t get along for years before she was diagnosed. Some of the problems were probably from the ALS and we didn’t realize it. She was tired all the time and would cry for no reason. Dad would just get mad. Then she started falling down, so we took her to the doctor. It was all downhill from there.”
“Guess that’s all for now,” Hank said. “But, we may have more questions later. Could we speak with Angela now?”
“Of course, I’ll get her for you. You can use my office for the other interviews.”
“Appreciate it.”
Jeffries left to get Angela and Browder looked at Hank. “What do you think?”
“Rough going for him, but he sure fits the profile...probably a mommy’s boy, only child, long illness.”
“He looks a little weak to me to deliver that punch to Fuentes,” Browder said.
“Yeah, I guess. But looks are deceiving especially in this case.”
The door opened and Angela Davies came in looking pale and fidgety. She sat in Jeffries seat.
“How are you today, Ms. Davies?” Hank asked.
“Okay, I guess. Dr. Jeffries said you wanted to ask me some questions. Don’t know how I can help. Am I in trouble?” Angela hands were never still.
“No, Ms. Davies, it’s standard procedure to speak with everyone. We just wanted to ask you a few questions since you work with the frogs.”
“Okay.” Angela visibly relaxed as the detectives asked her the questions regarding the collection process. Her answers mirrored Jeffries and she didn’t add any new information. When they asked her about Timothy Thompson, she didn’t have much to say. She thought he was a hard worker and did his assigned tasks well. He was friendly, but he kept to himself socially.
As she was getting up to leave Hank asked, “How do you like working here?”
“Very much,” Angela said with a smile. “Dr. Jeffries is a wonderful boss and we can really make a difference in people’s lives. What we’re working on here would change pain management. Think what it would mean if pain killing medications weren’t addicting.”
“Have you any experience with that?” Hank said.
“Unfortunately, yes. Hasn’t everybody?”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Was it someone close to you?”
“My brother, Brian.”
“I hope he’s okay now.”
“No. He passed away a few years ago. I’ll go get Timothy for you.” With that, Angela left the office.
Timothy Thompson came in a moment later smiling as he sat in Jeffries chair. His face was open, congenial and too relaxed under the circumstances for Hank. There was a studied air to him, like he practiced. His hands were calm, no fidgeting here.
“What can I do for you detectives?” Timothy said.
Hank looked through his notes and reviewed the collection process with him. Thompson added nothing new.
“How often do you do the collecting?” Hank said.
“Can’t say exactly, but probably once a week. Depends on how busy Dr. Jeffries is. He loves working with his critters, so he prefers to do it himself, but Angela and I take turns when he’s busy or gone.”
“Jeffries good to work for?” Browder said.
“He’s okay.”
“How long have you worked here?” Browder said
“About two years.”
“Where did you work before then?”
“A few smaller labs, one in a hospital, one an independent lab.”
“Their names?”
Thompson rattled off the names and for the first time, looked uncomfortable. Hank made a note to look into Thompson’s work history.
“Where are you from?” Hank asked.
“Philly.”
“What brought you to Miami?”
“I wanted to get out of the cold. When there was a job opening here, I jumped at it.”
“No family here then?” Hank said
“No. Didn’t know a soul here.”
“That must have been lonely for you. Do you go home much to see your folks or do they come here?”
“Neither. My folks are gone. An accident, years ago.”
“Sorry to hear that. No brothers or sisters?”
“Only child. What does this have to do with the investigation?” Thompson said.
“Sorry, just curious about folks. I guess I better not ask if you’ve got a girlfriend. I’ll get back to business. Have you ever lost a loved one to a long protracted illness?”
“Not really. Again, how is this relevant?”
“Has anyone offered you money to obtain any toxin?” Hank said.
“No! And I think I’m done here. Maybe I should have our attorney present.”
“Okay. I think we’re done here anyway. If we need any further information, we’ll let you know.”
Jeffries secretary escorted them down to the lobby and bid them a frosty farewell. They could hear her muttering all the way back to the elevators. Sitting in Hank’s car, the two detectives were quiet for a moment.
“First impressions?” Hank asked.
“Thompson is hiding something. Jeffries fits the profile. Trent is all ego, but I don’t get any vibe from him,” Browder said.
“And Angela?”
Browder shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t really think about her. Thought we’d decided on the killer being a male.”
“Maybe, yes. Maybe, no. Girls can punch, too. Check out the details they gave us. See if there are any inconsistencies.”
“Let’s go get some lunch. I think better on a full stomach.”
When they got back to the precinct, Hank called Fuentes to his desk. “Follow up on Thompson. I want to know about his employment with these two facilities. See if he has any record in Philly.”
“Like her, don’t you?” Browder said after Fuentes left..
“Shows promise. I want to see how she does.”
“Better not let Claire see you flirting with Fuentes,” Browder said with a smirk.
“Shut up. I’ve no interest in Fuentes other than her abilities as a cop.”
Chapter 25
Mercy paced around the room. What to do now? The mission must go on, but how to avoid getting caught. The reporter’s letter pissed Mercy off, but not enough to make the same mistake and react emotionally. Since all the publicity, the hospitals and nursing centers would be on their guard, so the employee disguises would have to go. The outfits that were non-employee could still be used except for the flower guy. The big mistake had been killing the doctor. Now the cops would be even more vigilant. The cops were stupid, but they’d been smart enough to come close. They’d identified the poison, so Mercy knew they’d be closing in. Maybe it was time to leave Miami. But, mother had loved it here and starting over in another city would be difficult. Mercy needed to know what the cops knew. But how to find out was the problem. Time to plan.
***
Tuesday came and went with no killing, Thursday the same. Hank worried that Mercy had gone underground or worse yet, pulled up stakes for greener pastures. Fuentes correlated all the past victims to the lists for two studies. She’d found the names and medical information of each. Some applicants were in the study and some were turned down for various reasons. Hank called IT and asked for Harris Roarke the departments acknowledged computer wiz.
“Roarke, here,” a soft voice answered the phone.
“Why you whispering, man,” Hank said.
“In the middle of a battle here. Damn! I’m dead. Wait a minute and I’ll go in the other room.” A few minutes later, Roarke was back. “What can I do you for?”
“I need to track down someone who accessed data from University Pharmacueticals database. Can you look back into the history and see who got into the system and when? I want to see if any names match up with our suspect list.”
“How far back are we talking?”
“Starting from probably two to three years ago to the present.”
“Do you have a warrant?”
“I’ll have one by morning. Can you get to University tomorrow AM and get started?”
“Sure. I’ll turn over my other case. We have to catch this sucker. Will they be expecting me?”
“Hell, no.”
“Okay...fun.”
***
Casey was tired after a long day so decided to go to Murphy’s. Her friend, Carla, was going to join her. She freshened up her makeup, turned off her computer and headed out the door.
Murphy’s was busy, but there was a table in the back that she claimed. After ordering a margarita, she browsed around the room. There were quite a few guys going solo tonight and she checked out their ring fingers...not a totally reliable indication. She’d dated one guy for a month before he slipped and called her by his wife’s name. He’d walked funny for a few days and didn’t appreciate being tossed out without his pants. Those he had to pick up out on the front sidewalk.
“Are you waiting for someone,” a deep voice asked.
Casey looked up at a tall young man...good-looking if a bit geeky. He had a sweet smile and his black framed glasses gave him a studious air.
“Yes, I am, but it’s a friend. You can join us if you like. After all, one can’t have too many friends,” Casey said smiling. “I’m Casey, by the way. And you are?”
“I’m Brian,” he answered as he took a chair.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” Casey said nodding thanks to the waitress for her drink. She took a sip as Brian ordered his beer. “Are you new to Miami?”
“Not really. I grew up here, but I’ve been away for awhile.”
“Oh, work or school?”
“A little of both, really. After school, my job took me to different places. What about you? What do you do?” Brian thanked the waitress and paid for both the drinks. Casey smiled her thanks.
“I’m only a secretary...or should I say an executive assistant. That sounds better.” She giggled.
“Where do you work?” Brian said sipping his beer.
“Now don’t get grossed out, but I work for the Coroner.”
“That’s not gross...that’s cool. Bet you get to see all kinds of stuff there.” Brian looked impressed and Casey sat a little taller. “Bet you get to know all the nitty-gritty details.”
“Well...”
“You must know all about the big case going on now...what is it...a...the Mercy murders?”
Casey shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She didn’t know any more than the general public. Glory was very close-mouthed about the whole shebang. Really pissed her off that she couldn’t get Glory to spill the beans about anything. She found herself talking about the office and what her job entailed when thankfully Carla arrived. What a relief. Brian was looking a little bored.
The rest of the evening went by fast, but Casey was disappointed when Brian announced he had to get up early the next morning and said his good nights. Well, shit, Casey thought, I thought he might ask for my number at least.
Late the next morning, Casey looked up from her desk to see Brian standing in the doorway of her office. He seemed relaxed and casual with his hand in the pocket of his jacket.
Surprise struck Casey silent, then she stuttered,” B..Brian? What are you doing here?”
“Just wanted to stop by and say hi. So this is your office?” Brian smiled.
“Uh...yes.” Casey felt uncomfortable and didn’t understand why. She shifted in her seat. There was something about Brian’s eyes that was wierding her out. Freaky, she thought. “Um...I can’t really talk now, Brian. I’m working.”
“I thought maybe you’d like to go to lunch today?” Brian took a step towards her desk and Casey squirmed in her chair.
How can I get rid of this guy? Casey thought. Bollocks, I hope he’s not a stalker. Shit...it would just be my luck. Get it together, girl!
“Steeling her spine, Casey looked him in the eye and said, “Sorry, Brian. I’m not interested in going out with you. You’ll have to leave.”
Brian didn’t seem too disappointed which pissed Casey off, but then he said something to send her over the roof.
“Well, could I talk with your boss for a minute? I need some information.”He flashed a press badge.
“You’re a reporter? You creep! Trying to smooze up to me to get info. Well, no dice. Get lost before I call security.” Casey’s hand reached for her phone.
Before she could lift the receiver, Brian’s hand came out of his pocket and he pointed a taser at her. Her eyes opened wide.
“Holy shit! Are you for real?” she gasped.
“I need to talk with your boss, if you would be so kind,” Brian said with a smile. “I don’t want to hurt you, so please do as I ask.”
“No way, Jose.” Casey reached for the phone.
Brian pulled the trigger. The prongs hit Casey in the chest. Her jaw locked and her body jerked as she fell out of the chair. Her head hit the edge of the desk and blood flowed. Brian felt nausea at the sight when he looked down on Casey’s still form. Poison is so much neater, he thought.
Casey’s chair rolled back when she fell and hit the wall with a bang.
“Casey?” Brian heard Glory call from her office, “what was that?”
The taser went back into his pocket as he stepped forward and opened the door.
“Who are you?” Glory said to the stranger at the door. Something about his eyes warned her. “Where’s Casey?” she asked reaching for her drawer.
“She’s alright. Might have a bit of a headache though.”
Glory then saw an arm laying across the floor. “What have you done to her?” Glory picked up her gun.
“She was going to call security. Collateral damage, I’m afraid.”
“You bastard,” Glory said and pointed the gun at his chest. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“I need to know what the cops know. I thought you were the best option. After all, you were the one who got the toxin identified. I didn’t figure you for having a gun.”
“Bad choice on your part,” Glory snarled and reached for her desk phone. She hit the speed dial for Hank’s phone keeping the gun on the man.
“Garcia,” Hank voice boomed over the phone. The man lunged to the side and Glory fired. The bullet hit the door jam and a splinter flew into the man’s face. With a curse and a hand to his cheek, the man spun and was out the door.
“Glory!” Hank yelled.
“Get over to my office now. He just killed Casey.”
When Hank and Browder charged through the door they found Glory sitting on the floor next to Casey and holding some tissue against her head. Hank crouched down next to Glory and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“Is she okay?’” Hank asked.
“I thought she was dead. Thank God she’s alive. Paramedics are on the way. She hasn’t regained consciousness yet,” Glory said, “so I don’t know if she’s okay. You’ve got to nail this creep.”
“Why was he here? Did he say anything?”
“He said he wanted to know what the cops knew.”
“Lucky for you, you had a gun,” Browder said.
“Damn right. Sorry I missed,” Glory said and stood up as the paramedics arrived. She backed up to give them room. “She was tased, I think. She must have hit her head when she fell,” Glory told them.
Aaron came in the door at a run. “Glory!”
Glory walked to the door and into Aaron’s arms. She felt shaky and needed his comfort. Anger was burning deep in her gut. “He called her collateral damage,” Glory muttered against his chest. His arms tightened.
“Let’s go into your office and let the guys do their work,” Hank said.
Glory walked into her office and sat down at her desk. She told Hank and Aaron everything she remembered. She paused and hung her head. She kept seeing Casey’s arm laying outstretched across the floor. “I told her not to worry. I need her family’s number. I don’t have her family’s number.”
“It’s okay, Glory. We’ll get it for you,” Hank said. This was a side of Glory he’d never seen. She was always such a cool and collected woman. This dazed woman was a different person.
“Can you describe him for us?” Browder said.
“Yes I think so. I’ll be seeing that bastard’s face in my sleep. Get the artist over here.”
A paramedic stuck his head in the door and announced they were taking Casey to University of Miami Hospital.
“How is she?” Glory asked.
“Still out. She’s got a concussion at least, but her vitals are stable.”
“Thank you.”
The artist arrived with his computer twenty minutes later and Glory gave him a description. No one recognized his features. The artist left to start a database search and to print out copies. After a brief phone conversation with Harkins, they decided to do a press conference and hand out copies to the media, both television and print.
Glory got a hold of herself by the time the artist left. Hank got Casey’s family’s number and he and Aaron stayed with her while she called them.
“I think I need a drink,” Glory muttered as they left the office.
“Me, too. But first we need to get back for the press conference.”
The press room was packed with cameras rolling. Harkins began with a brief rundown of what had happened. He held up a copy of the picture. “This is a killer who has the nerve to call himself ’Mercy’. Now he has hospitalized a young woman.”
Questions were shouted, some answered, most weren’t. Hank said a gruff “no comment” at least a dozen times until Harkins stepped forward again to signal the end of the conference. When they turned to leave a reporter shouted, “What does the Chief Medical Examiner have to say?”
“I say there’s a special place in hell where there will be no mercy.”
Glory found Aaron waiting at her front door when she got home. He was silent as she opened the door and threw the keys into the bowl. The girls jumped onto the couch the minute she sat down and created a loud welcome like they knew this day was different. Glory scratched their ears without thinking as Aaron sat down beside her.
“What can I do,” he said. “Tell me what I can do to help.”
“Stay?”
“Yes.” Aaron pulled Glory over till her head rested on his shoulder and they sat in silence. *** “Shit, shit, shit,” Mercy shouted at the walls. Frustrated, Mercy went into the bathroom and wiped the blood off. A splinter of wood from the door jam had sliced a perfect face. Who knew she’d have a gun in her office. She’d reacted faster than Mercy thought possible and the carelessness of the plan almost cost Mercy dear. Some antiseptic was used to prevent infection. Mother always said you must be careful and keep wounds clean.
Shame about the girl, though. Mercy did feel bad about hurting her. She was a brave little thing. More so than expected. The collateral damages were mounting and the information needed was unavailable. Where else to look? The cops would be on guard more now. Dr. Vandenburg proved to be vigilant also. She had good instincts. How to change the mission was the next hurdle. He didn’t want to stop, didn’t think he could. The pressure inside was growing and needed release. Mercy would have to act soon.
Chapter 26
University Pharmaceuticals was in an uproar. Hank’s warrant had Dr. Trent fuming and blustering around his office. Hank stood silent and let the man rant. After a few minutes, Trent stopped to take a breath.
“Are you done?” Hank asked.
“This is what we get for helping. Accused, questioned!”
“One would think by your behavior that you don’t want the killer caught. Shouldn’t you be defending the victims with as much zeal?”
Trent stopped mid stride and looked at Hank. His face flushed and Hank read shame in his eyes for the first time.
“Of course, of course.” Trent sat down in his chair and leaned forward resting his head on his hand. “Don’t know what I was thinking.” Trent looked up and took the warrant from Hank’s hand. “You will have our full cooperation. If anyone here is involved, I want them punished. Please forgive my earlier behavior.” Much to Hank’s surprise, Trent stood and offered his hand. They shook.
“My secretary will show you to an area where you can work.”
“It won’t be me,” Hank explained. “Roarke is waiting in the outer office. He’s our IT guy.”
Hank followed Trent out of his office and introductions were made. Trent’s secretary led the two detectives to an office on the fourth floor where she introduced them to the engineer, then she left.
“We’ll be here for awhile, so you can go about your business,” Hank said to the engineer. “Trent has the warrant.” The engineer took the hint and left after giving Roarke the passcodes.
“You all set?” Hank said.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“I need to know who accessed the records and when. The warrant doesn’t cover any medical records. You can put in the names of known victims and see if there’s any matches.”
“Gotcha. I’ll call you when I have something .”
Hank got back to the precinct in time to hear his phone ringing.
“Garcia.”
“Hank, it’s Glory. I think we have another one.”
“Damn. Never been one on a Monday before. Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. I put out a bulletin for everyone to check the mouth on all the terminal patients who pass away, and this one has the reddened mucosa.” Glory sighed. The higher the body count rose, the more she hated Mercy.
“When was the time of death?”
“Sunday, about 10 AM..”
“Where?”
“The Miami Nursing Center.”
“Okay, we’ll get over there right away.”
***
When Hank and Browder got to the nursing center, they asked for the Director of Nursing and were shown to her office. A few minutes later, a short, rotund woman bustled through the door in answer to the page.
“Good morning, detectives. I’m Phyllis Miller, Director of Nursing. How can I help you?”
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but have you been following the news about the ’Mercy Killer’?” Hank asked.
“Of course. Who hasn’t seen the story?” Ms. Miller’s eyes opened wide as realization dawned. “Are you telling me that one of our patients has been murdered?”
“Yes, we think so.”
“Who?”
“How many patients did you lose yesterday,” Browder asked.
“Actually, three. Yesterday was a difficult day, but we have a lot of very sick patients here and sometimes death seems to happen in clusters.”
“We think the victim was a Thomas Claremont. But, may I ask who the other two were?”
“Let me think... Maria Espinoza and Grace McNeill.”
“When did they pass?” Hank asked already knowing the answer.
“Thomas was around 10 AM. Maria was about an hour later. Grace was around 6 PM.”
“Where are their bodies now?” Hank asked.
“Thomas was sent to Serenity Memorial Center. The other two both went to Green Hills. Are you sure about this?” Ms. Miller said.
“We got a call from Serenity regarding Claremont in response to a bulletin. We won’t know for certain until autopsy.”
“And you think Maria and Grace could be victims also?”
“We just need to check it out. Did your staff see anyone unusual yesterday, anyone different or new.”
“Come with me and you can talk to any of the girls in the nurse’s lounge.” Ms. Miller turned and the detectives followed her down the corridor to a room with a few small tables and a kitchenette. An aide sat there sipping coffee. She stood when the Director walked in.
“Relax, Flo. You worked yesterday, didn’t you?”
“Yes ma’m.” Flo sat down, curiosity in her eyes.
“These detectives have some questions for you,” Ms. Miller said and prepared to sit down.
“Excuse me, ma’m,” Browder said. “Could we step out? I need to get a list of employees working yesterday and their contact information.”
Ms. Miller looked unhappy, but led Browder out of the lounge. Flo visibly relaxed.
“My name is Lieutenant Garcia, Flo. And you are?”
“I’m Florence Wilson, but everyone calls me Flo.”
“Well, Flo,” Hank said with a smile. “I’d like to talk with you about yesterday. I hear it was a rough day.”
“Yeah, it was. Maria and Gracie were favorites of mine. Real nice ladies. Mr. Claremont was nice, too,” Flo hastened to add.
“I understand. I would just like to know if you noticed any new visitors yesterday. Someone you hadn’t seen before.”
“Not that I can think of. It was a normal Sunday ’cept for people passing. But, it happens here. Some of our folks are real sick. I spent most of the day in Mr. Garcia’s room. Is that why your here? Are you a relation?”
“No, Flo. Not that I know of anyway. Is there anyone who might have seen most of the visitors?” Hank said as he dug into his pocket and pulled out two papers.
“Well, Terri covers the desk mostly. She’s our unit clerk. She answers the phone, does orders, takes care of supplies, you know.” Flo shrugged.
“Do either of these sketches remind you of any visitors?” Hank said.
Flo looked at one then the other but shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t recognize either of them.”
“Thank you, Flo,” Hank smiled. “ Would you ask the unit clerk to come in and talk to me, please?”
“Sure.” Flo dumped her cup into the garbage and left. A few minutes later, a young woman came in.
“Thank you for speaking with me, Terri, right?”
“Yes sir.” Terri sat in the seat when Hank motioned her forward. “How can I help you?” she said.
“Did you work all day yesterday?”
“Yes sir. I did a 12 hour shift yesterday...7 AM to 7 PM.”
“I’m wondering if you saw any visitors yesterday that you didn’t know or recognize.”
“No, sir. We didn’t really have too many visitors yesterday that I remember. Just the usual. The priest and the preacher stopped in to visit like every Sunday. A couple doctor’s checked in on their patients.”
“Have you seen all of them before?”
“Yes, sir. Father Rudy has been coming occasionally for about a year and Pastor Wennberg for the last six months.”
“They young?”
“No, sir. They’re both older gentlemen.”
“Did either of them visit the patients that passed yesterday?”
“I’m not sure, sir. I was busy.”
“Do you recognize someone from these sketches?” Hank asked.
“No, sir.”
The rest of the interviews didn’t reveal much else. Browder returned with contact information on the employees not on duty. Hank sent Browder back to the precinct to call and talk with them, then headed over to Green Hills.
The mortuary was at the edge of a middle class neighborhood and was surrounded by green rolling hills, thus the name he guessed. Would make a great golf course, he thought.
The large carved doors opened to a reception area carpeted with thick dark forest green carpet. Muted classical music played in the background as Hank approached an older woman seated at the desk.
She smiled. “How may I help you?”
Hank showed his credentials and asked to see the Director. The receptionist spoke in soft tones on the phone then directed Hank to follow her. They walked down a long corridor and she knocked on a heavy oak door at the end.
“Come in,” said a deep voice.
Hank was ushered into a large office where a distinguished gray-haired man sat behind a large oak desk. Two leather chairs were placed in front and the woman motioned for Hank to be seated.
“What can I do for you officer?” the man said.
“It’s Lieutenant Garcia,” Hank said.
“Oh, of course. Sorry. How may I be of service?” The man smiled. The name plate identified him as Harold Roberts.
“I was told that the bodies of Maria Espinoza and Grace McNeill were brought here.”
“Yes, as per their request. Is there a problem?” The man smiled again.
“I was wondering if your facility got the bulletin about checking the mouths of all terminal patients?” Hank asked.
“I believe Ms. Carrey mentioned it.”
“And did either woman have the mentioned physical finding?” Hank was ready to punch the smiling face.
“I really don’t know. Our mortician is off today and tomorrow.” The smile never faltered. Hank pulled out his phone and dialed Glory. She picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, Glory, it’s Hank. I need two bodies checked over at Green Hills Mortuary.”
“What’s going on?” Glory asked.
“There were two other deaths at the Nursing Center. I got a pain in my gut that says Claremont was not the only one.”
“Phil’s in the middle of an autopsy. I’ll come. See you in about fifteen, twenty minutes.”
“We’ll want to see the bodies of both patients when Dr. Vandenburg gets here.”
“Very well.” The phone rang and the smiling man spoke for a few moments, then looked up. “Would you mind waiting elsewhere? I do have another appointment.”
“Sure.” Mr. Roberts directed Hank to a lounge. After the man left, Hank helped himself to a cup of coffee and wandered around the room. He picked up brochures of the varied services offered and wondered about the price tags. There was a lot of money in death he realized. He called Browder, but the call went to voicemail. Browder must be talking to the other staff. All Hank could do was wait.
Traffic was a killer so Glory took a little longer to get there. The receptionist brought her to the lounge then she and Hank went to the lab. A tech located the drawers and pulled one out. Glory put on gloves and opened the woman’s mouth. Taking a small dental mirror, she examined the interior. When she looked up at Hank, he knew the answer. She nodded. The next body was the same.
“Both of these women will need to be sent to the coroner’s office,” Glory said to the tech. “Please make arrangements for transportation. My office will contact the families. Please provide the contact information.” Glory threw the gloves in the red trash and they left the lab.
“Damn,” Glory whispered. “How did he manage a triple?”
“I think he has been visiting some of the centers over a period of time disguised as a priest or pastor or perhaps both. ”
“I have to get back to the office,” Glory said. “I know it’s only Monday, but I need a drink. Why don’t you and Claire meet us at Murphy’s tonight?”
“I’ll check with Claire and let you know.”
***
Glory called Aaron as soon as she got back to the office and left a message for him about Murphy’s. She got a text awhile later saying he’d be there. The rest of the afternoon was spent orienting the temp secretary, Melissa Woods. She seemed a quiet, serious girl with short no fuss hair and large glasses. Her voice was soft and in every possible way she was the antithesis of Casey. How boring.
***
Evening found the four sitting around a table at Murphy’s and the conversation was subdued.
“I’m so sorry about Casey,” Claire said. “How did the new temp’s orientation go today?”
“Okay, I guess. She seems competent enough. I just never thought I’d say I’m going to miss Casey. I spoke to the hospital today and she’s regained consciousness, but slips in and out. They are keeping her in ICU for now.”
“So. This guy’s been visiting different places as a cleric also?” Aaron said.
“Yeah, looks like it,” Hank replied. “That’s two more to add to the list. This guy’s a real chameleon.”
“So you’re sure it’s a guy?” Claire asked.
“Don’t know if I’m sure of anything at this point, but we think so.”
“Too bad my aim wasn’t better,” Glory said. “I better go to the range and practice some more.”
“That’s not the same as hitting a moving target. I’m just happy you reacted so quickly. If he’d gotten any closer to you...” Aaron’s voice trailed off. Glory covered his hand with hers and couldn’t stop a shiver.
“This party needs some music. Why don’t we do some dancing. I don’t want to go home yet,” Glory smiled.
They left Murphy’s and went to a dance club for a couple hours then Claire announced it was time for her to call it a night. She had to be in court in the morning. In the parking lot, they said their goodnights, but Glory tugged on Aaron’s hand. “Can you come stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”
“I was just going to ask you,” Aaron said with a smile. “See, we have a psychic connection.” Glory laughed and they headed back to her condo.
“The girls are going to be unhappy with me. It’s way late for their supper,” Glory said. “Be warned.” Glory opened the door. No cats. “That’s funny. Pi, Nemo!” She walked further into the living room and with a cry, dropped to the floor.
“Glory, what is it,” Aaron leaned over her and saw what Glory saw. Her two beautiful cats lay side by side on the sofa dead. She instinctively reached forward, but Aaron stopped her before she could touch them.
“Don’t,” Aaron said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Hank, I’m here at Glory’s. Better get over here.”
***
Mercy had watched as Dr. Vandenburg’s car pulled into the garage followed by another car. So, she brought someone home with her tonight. Well, hope she appreciates my little present. Now we’re even, Mercy thought touching the bandage.
Chapter 27
Harris Roarke woke with his head on the desk. Looking at his watch, he shook his head and reached for the cold remnants of his coffee. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but his eyes could only take so much before they needed a rest. Garcia would be disappointed he hadn’t found a thing as yet. No sooner did he think of Garcia than said detective walked into the office.
“What’cha got?” Garcia grumbled.
“Nada. Bupkis. Zip.”
“You’ve been at this for hours.”
“I know, I know. Fell asleep here last night. But I’m looking at access data for the past three years. Maybe on TV it just drops in their laps, but in real life it takes a little time.”
“Okay, sorry.”
“Do something helpful and get me some coffee. Without caffeine, my brain will crash.”
On cue, Browder walked through the door with a large thermos and plopped it on the desk. Roarke smiled. “You sure do take good care of your men.”
“Damn straight. Now get back to work. Call me if you get anything,” Hank said. “We gotta see if anyone recognizes this priest.”
The nurses had given a detailed enough description of Father Rudy and Reverend Wennberg for the police artist to get a good likeness. A computer search gave no matches. Browder called the local churches and could find no Father Rudy. Reverend Wennberg was in his office and had only been in Miami for the past six months so that eliminated him as a suspect. They decided to go to the different churches and see if any priest matched or recognized the man from the sketch.
“Who knew there were so many churches around here,” Browder said complaining. “This will take forever.”
“I suggest we hit the churches in a ten mile radius around the home. The priests must know each other and could help us narrow it down,” Hank said.
***
Mercy felt out of control and didn’t understand what was happening. Somehow the focus was shifting from helping the sufferers to protecting and avenging. Was it time to stop? Can’t stop! The excitement, the adrenaline rush was like a drug. Mercy seemed to need more and more to feel the same. Pull up roots and move somewhere else? The mission was the same no matter where it was carried out, but gathering all the necessary information would cause a delay. Thinking was making Mercy’s head pound.
***
Hank and Browder walked into the Archdiocese of Miami sanctuary and looked around for the church office. They entered and approached the secretary.
“Good morning, ma’m. I’m Lieutenant Garcia and this is Detective Browder. We would like to speak to the Archbishop for a moment please. It’s very important.” Hank handed her his card.
“Well, officers, his Grace has a full schedule this morning, but I might be able to squeeze in a few moments if you promise not to take too long.” She smiled and stood signaling for them to wait. She entered the carved wooden door behind her after a soft knock. A few minutes later, she reappeared and motioned for the men to enter.
“Remember, just a few minutes,” she said and closed the door .
Hank looked around the office. The Archbishop sat behind a large antique carved desk speaking on the phone. Hank looked around the beautiful office. Books were everywhere. A large ornate stand held an enormous bible and Hank walked over to glance at it’s ornate scripting.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the Archbishop said as he hung up the phone and smiled. “A treasured gift.”
“Yes, your Grace, it is. Thank you for seeing us.”
“You’re welcome. Now what can I do for you, Lieutenant Garcia?”
“I’m trying to locate a priest by the name of Father Rudy. I thought you would be able to direct us to his parish.”
“I’m not familiar with a Father Rudy. What is this in reference to?”
“If the name isn’t familiar, perhaps you would recognize his likeness,” Hank said and pulled out the sketch. The Archbishop took the paper and glanced at it for a moment, a quizzical look on his face. He shook his head and handed the sketch back to Hank.
“I’m sorry. I do not know this man. I assume he has done something wrong for you two to be standing in my office,” the Archbishop said.
“Yes, your Grace. He is a suspect in a serious crime.”
“I do recognize your name, Lieutenant. Are you not in charge of the ’Mercy Killer’ investigation?”
“Yes, your Grace.”
“And you think the killer is a priest?” The Archbishop’s brows rose.
“Not really, your Grace. We believe he is impersonating a priest, but we have to be sure.”
“I understand. Is there anything else I can do to assist you?”
“No, your Grace. Thank you for taking the time to speak with us.” Hank started to back up.
“Go with God. May your efforts bear fruit.”
They left the church and got into Hank’s car. The two men sat for a moment in silence each with his own thoughts.
“How many disguises does this guy have?” Browder said. “We can’t watch every facility, everyday for everybody.”
“Roarke has to come up with something soon. I was thinking, since Glory nicked the guy we should see if one of our suspects has a cut. Let’s make some visits.”
The detectives decided to go together and the first stop was the University. Dr. Melton was in the middle of a class when he noticed Hank at the doorway. After telling everyone to look over the handout for their next paper, he walked to the door smiling.
“Lieutenant, a pleasure. What can I do for you today?” Melton stood clear-eyed and clear skinned awaiting their reply.
“Just checking in with you to see if you thought of any other facts that could be of help,” Hank said.
“Sorry to say, no I haven’t. Any suspects yet?” Melton asked.
“We’re working on it. Sorry for the interruption.” Hank and Browder left and headed back to the car.
“Where to next?” Browder said.
“Phillip Woods is next.” The men drove in silence.
When they reached Woods’ apartment, no amount of knocking brought a response. Hank went to the neighbor’s apartment and knocked. A middle aged woman opened the door and Hank identified himself and asked if she had seen Woods.
“No, sir. I mind my own business and he minds his. Hardly ever see him. Keeps to himself.”
“Thank you, ma’m.” Hank slid one of his business cards under the door with a note for Woods to call him.
“Let’s head to the lab. Trent,Thompson, Jeffries and Davies should be there and we can check them out,” Browder said. “Can we swing by and get some coffee?”
“Sure.” Hank spent the rest of the ride in silent thought. He hoped Roarke came up with something on the data search. His mind wandered back to Claire and he couldn’t help but smile. Browder looked over and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Hank growled.
“Nothing,” Browder said, his eyes speaking volumes.
They pulled up in front of the University Lab and checked in at the front desk and asked to see Jeffries. After the badges were given, an aide walked them up to Jeffries office. She knocked, then opened the door to Jeffries call. Hank and Browder entered to find Jeffries sitting on the floor in front of the cages shaking his head and blood coursing down his face from a large laceration on his head.
“Dr. Jeffries,” the aide rushed forward. “Let me help you.”
“That’s okay. Never mind. I’m fine.” Jeffries grabbed the corner of the desk and pulled himself up. Holding on to the edge, he walked around to the chair and sat down. Opening his drawer, he took out a first aide kit and placed a bandage over the cut on his forehead. “You can wait outside.”
Hank and Jeffries stepped out of the way for the aide to leave. Hank walked over to take a look at Jeffries. “You okay? What happened?”
“Just got a little dizzy. Happens sometimes. Hit my head when I went down. Must have blacked out.”
“What’s the matter with you?” Hank asked.
“I prefer to not discuss my private life. Now, what can I do for you? Sorry, did we have an appointment? I’m afraid I don’t remember.” Jeffries removed the gauze to check on the bleeding, then replaced and secured it with some tape.
“Perhaps Angela Davies or Timothy Thompson are available?” Hank asked.
“Thompson is off today. He worked over the weekend. Angela is out in the lab. I’ll call her.”
Jeffries called out into the lab for Angela to report to his office. She walked in a few minutes later starting in surprise to see the detectives.
“Oh, hello. What can I do for you?” Angela said before noticing the bandage on Jeffries head. “What happened? Are you okay?” She stepped forward to look at his head. “You’re going to have a good goose egg. I better get you an ice pack.”
Browder shrugged his shoulders at Hank. This visit was a wash.
“I think we better go,” Hank said. “We were going up to see Roarke in your data files. Hope you feel better.”
Jeffries raised his hand in a feeble wave as the detectives left. The aide was waiting for them outside the door and walked them to the computer room.
“Hey, Roarke,” Browder said as they entered the room. Roarke was sitting in front of the screen and pulled out a printout. “I’ve gone back three years and the most suspicious searches come from Dr. Jeffries office. He did a lot of searches on terminal patients, the last was just three months ago.”
“Any of the patients one of our victims?” Hank asked.
“Yes, actually quite a few.”
Hank thought Jeffries had been the least likely of the suspects. He just didn’t look well enough to pull off some of the scenarios that Mercy had done.
“What kind of searches are we talking about,” Hank asked.
“They seem to be applicants for a series of studies regarding a new pain medication. Some were accepted, some denied, and some were put into a placebo group. I haven’t gone over all the names yet, but the deaths we’re sure were done by Mercy are all on these lists.”
“So the killer is here,” Browder said.
“Can you tell if there’s been any hacking?” Hank asked.
“Not that I can see.”
“Guess we need to go back and talk with Jeffries. Thanks Roarke.” Hank shook his head. He doubted the washed out and sickly Jeffries could pull off the murders. Someone must have gotten into his computer. Hank and Browder followed the aide back to Jeffries office and found him laying down on the couch in his office. His face was even more pale and the wound still leaked blood down the side of his face. Hank pulled up a chair and sat down next to Jeffries. He sat silent for a moment and watched until Jeffries opened his eyes.
“We need to know what’s going on with you?” Hank asked.
“It really isn’t any of your business. Has nothing to do with your investigation.” Jeffries closed his eyes.
“Who has access to your computer?”
“Me, and only me. Why?”
“Well, looks like the victims were selected from the files of potential participants of drug trials for a couple of new pain medications.” Hank leaned forward watching Jeffries. He could see shock registering on Jeffries’ face.
“That’s not possible,” Jeffries said as he struggled to sit up.
Effort was evident in the way he moved convincing Hank that Jeffries couldn’t be Mercy. The actions of the killer so far spoke of a man capable of physical actions that looked beyond Jeffries.
“Someone is getting into your computer.”
“I follow all the requirements for my passwords, including changing them every three months.”
“Do you write them down anywhere?” Browder asked.
“Yes, but I lock my drawer and my office.”
“I’d like your permission to fingerprint your desk and drawers.” Hank stood up and pulled out his cell after Jeffries nodded assent. A brief call ensured arrangements were made for a technician to come to the office.
“I can’t believe this is happening. We’re supposed to help people.” Jeffries knew he had to be up front with the detectives.
“I’m sorry.” Hank couldn’t think of anything else to say. “What’cha got?”
Jeffries sighed. “Leukemia.” He looked up at Hank with a weak smile. “I’ve been in remission for almost five years. Thought I had it beat, but looks like it’s back with a vengeance. I have an appointment with Trent to discuss my leave of absence.”
“You’ve missed a lot of work lately?” Hank asked.
While they waited for the technician to arrive, Jeffries told of his many sick days and short leaves while treatments were re-instigated. He didn’t want to think of any of his staff using his computer and setting him up to be the perpetrator. But, he had to admit, if not for his weakened condition, he would be the number one suspect.
“Does anyone else have the keys to your office?” Browder asked.
“Not that I’m aware of. Come to think of it, I did give a copy to Angela so she could feed my darts when I’m gone. She always gives it back when I return.” Jeffries hastened to add then looked sheepish. “Ah, yes, sorry. She could’ve made a copy.”
The tech came in escorted by the aide and set about taking prints off Jeffries desk and computer. While he worked, Jeffries paged Angela to come to his office. The room grew silent as the men waited. Hank felt sorry for Jeffries. First the cancer and now a friend being suspected of betrayal and murder.
“Are you okay?” Angela said as she ran through the door. She stopped dead when she saw the detectives. “What’s happening?” she asked.
“Angela, have you ever used my computer to do any searches?” Jeffries asked.
“No. Why would I? I have my own station.” Angela looked back and forth between the men. “What’s happening?” She started to wring her hands.
“We just need to know,” Hank said. “It looks like someone has been using Jeffries computer to do some searches. You have access to his office.”
“I only go into his offices to feed the darts when he’s gone. I haven’t touched anything else.”
“Have you given the key to anyone else?”
“Well, not really, but I have left it in my drawer. When Jeffries is gone and I’m too busy, I’ve had Thompson feed for me. You did say that was okay,” Angela added.
“It’s fine, Angela. Thank you. You can go back to the lab.” Jeffries laid back exhausted by the exertion and the emotional upset.
After the door closed, Jeffries looked at Hank. “It can’t be Angela. I just can’t imagine that.”
“What about Thompson?” Browder asked.
“It’s possible, I guess.”
“Do you have an address for him?” Hank asked.
“I can get it from Personnel.”
***
Hank and Browder pulled up to the apartment building given as Thompson’s address. They entered the lobby and went to the elevators taking the car to the third floor. At the door of unit 312, they knocked. After a moment, the door was opened by a disheveled Thompson. He was dressed in sweats and breathing heavily with perspiration covering his forehead. A small bandaid was on his cheek close to his left ear.
“Yeah,” Thompson said, “What is it?”
“Remember us?” Hank said.
Thompson wiped a small towel over his face and looked at the detectives. “You’re those cops at the office the other day asking questions.”
“That’s right.”
“What do you want?”
“Can we talk to you for a minute?”
“Oh, sure. Come on in.” Thompson opened the door and swept his arm forward. “Excuse the mess.”
“What happened to you,” Hank asked pointing to the bandage.
“Got into a fight the other night.”
“Why?”
“ Some drunk got a little fresh with my date.”
“What night?” Browder asked.
“Saturday.”
“Where?” Hank said.
“Why? What’s going on. Why the twenty questions?” Thompson’s smile disappeared and he backed up.
“Thought you had to work last weekend?” Browder asked.
“Yeah, I did. But I still went out. Shift ended at six.”
Hank and Browder took the details of the fight and questioned Thompson about his contact with the frogs and his use of computers. In particular, if he had access to Jeffries computer. Thompson’s answers were the same as Angela. He only took care of the darts when Jeffries was gone or busy and he only used his own computer. As Hank and Browder left and got back into the car, Hank told Browder to follow up on the fight story after he dropped Hank back at the station.
Hank sat at his desk ruminating on the facts of the case. He hoped Browder came back with information that the fight was phony. He decided to run up a list of known disguises and was impressed at the versatility. There were more male disguises than female so that helped him lean toward the killer being male. Also the strength and speed demonstrated seem to indicate a man. Then he thought of Fuentes. She was pretty strong and could run with the boys. Maybe he was being sexist. He thought about Angela. She did a really good job of keeping herself in the background.
Browder came into the office and shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. He spoke with the bartender and heard all about the rowdy night complete with free-flying fists. The day had been long and fruitless, so they decided to call it a night.
***
Glory sat at her desk staring at the sunset. The day was over. Aaron was working tonight, and she couldn’t imagine going home to her empty condo. The police questioned the guard who admitted to leaving his post a few times during the evening. They took prints from the door and the jam, but Glory didn’t have much hope. Mercy planned with such precision she doubted he’d make as simple a mistake as not wearing gloves. Picking her lock didn’t seem to stop him either. With a sigh, she dumped water into her fern and said goodnight.
The drive back home was silent, as was the ride up the elevator. The guard had the grace to blush when she drove by, but she didn’t have the energy to glare. Everyone needed a break, she thought. Who would think of someone being crazy and mean enough to kill her poor cats.
The locksmith had changed the locks this afternoon and dropped off the keys, so Glory pulled out them out and opened the door. Silence greeted her and tears slid down her cheeks. The keys went into the bowl by the door and Glory went into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. Make that a big glass. Glory went to the bedroom and kicked off her shoes taking large sips of wine. She undressed, put on her light sweats and went back into the living room to crash on the chair. The phone rang.
“Hey, sis,” Paul’s voice rang too loud for the call to be a coincidence. “We wanted to know if you wanted to come over for dinner. We’re going to grill some burgers.”
“No, thanks.”
“Ah, come on Glory. You shouldn’t be by yourself tonight.”
“Yes, I should. I’m lousy company tonight. Just let me be for a few days, then I’ll snap out of it. Promise.” Glory hung up before Paul could argue with her. The phone rang again and Glory saw Claire’s number come up. She just let it go to voicemail. A moment later there was a knock on her door. She sighed. When she opened the door, Claire was standing there holding a pizza box and a bottle of wine.
“I came to keep you company,” Claire said not waiting for an invite and walking in. “You don’t have to say anything all night if you don’t want too. We can watch a movie or read a book, but you’re not going to be alone.”
“You can be a real pain in the ass,” Glory said with tears forming.
“You bet I can. I got half double pepperoni and half Hawaiian. Take your pick.”
Chapter 28
Mercy looked over the list trying to decide who was next. The elation from the triple release was diminishing. The cats hadn’t provided much and Mercy had to admit to feeling guilt. Revenge tarnished the mission. Mercy felt lessened by the death of healthy animals. That act would never be repeated. The list could not be embellished any further. The police were aware of the selection method. When this task was complete, a move would be necessary. A new start would perhaps return the feelings back to the beginning.
The disguises were sorted and carefully replaced in their marked boxes. They were getting old also and Mercy wanted a challenge. Mercy thumbed through the catalog looking for inspiration when a nurses uniform caught Mercy’s eye. With all the time spent in medical facilities, Mercy hadn’t tried being a nurse, always choosing a more background character. Perhaps the time had come to take a leading role. An order was placed.
***
Hank sat at his desk thumbing through the data they’d gathered. He looked through the list of known characters again and facilities hit. Mercy was a real chameleon...a man of a thousand faces. Hank wondered how long it took for Mercy to do his costume changes. He picked up the phone and called Fuentes.
“Fuentes,” Hank said when she answered her cell. “I want you to check out the suppply houses for theater make-up and costumes. See if you can find any order histories that match Mercy’s known character list.”
Browder walked in and sat on the corner of Hank’s desk. “Roarke gave me a list of applicants that are still alive. It’s a pretty long list, but we can narrow it a little if we stick to facilities already hit. They’re all in a twenty-five mile radius.”
“We can put together a list of known disguises to give to the officers on stakeout.” Hank looked down at his list knowing they didn’t have enough officers to cover all the facilities. “Hand out lists to the Nursing Directors to give to the floor nurses. Make sure they only make a call if they see him. No one is to approach him.”
***
“I’m a float nurse filling in tonight,” Mercy said wearing a crisp white uniform. Looking around and noticing most of the nurses were in scrubs, Mercy thought to get a more colorful uniform.
“Welcome to Miami General,” the clerk said with a bright smile. “I’ll get the night charge for you. She’ll be thrilled. We didn’t know we were getting help.”
“Okay. I’ll just look around while I wait if that’s okay?” Mercy smiled.
“Sure. Introduce yourself to the other nurses. The charge nurse will assign you to someone.” The clerk picked up the phone as Mercy walked toward the room of Gilbert Rowlins.
When the clerk looked away, Mercy slipped into the room and deployed the swab, this time staying to watch. After Mercy saw the spasms cease, the emergency call light was pushed. Other staff ran into the room.
“I’m so sorry,” Mercy said. “I walked by the room and saw the patient was gone. Was he very ill?”
“Yes, he was. It’s no surprise, I guess. Not much of a welcome for your first night. I’m Hannah White, Night Charge.” The heavyset gray-haired nurse shook Mercy’s hand. “We’ll let the aides handle this and I’ll show you around.”
The rest of the night, Mercy was oriented to the workings of Miami General and assigned to her duties. This could work out well. Mercy pushed away the memories of all the time spent with mother in just such a facility.
***
On Friday morning, Hank was sitting at his desk when his phone rang. Glory had another case from Miami General. So, we’re back to Thursday nights again, even if it’s later. Something better break soon. He shouted over to Browder to go to Miami General and see if anyone saw any of the known disguises. He leaned back in his chair stretching his neck to try and loosen the tight muscles. Fuentes came over to his desk with a frustrated look on her face.
“Lieutenant, I really think this is a good lead, but I can’t get a customer list without a warrant. I’ve got quite a list of suppliers for special effects makeup and costumes,” Fuentes said.
Hank motioned her to take a seat as he picked up the phone. After reporting to the Captain, he went for the warrant. He had to do some fast talking through a few judges before he got the warrant. Most felt the warrant was too broad, but finally one judge was pissed enough at the number of murders that he gave the go ahead. Fuentes went back to her work station with a smile on her face.
***
Glory woke up Saturday and reached for Aaron. As she expected, he was out like a light. She laid on her side and watched him sleep debating if she should wake him up. He’d arrived late Friday night and looked exhausted, so she decided to go for her run alone. She got dressed and left him a note.
The warm and sticky morning made Glory sweat in no time. She ran to the park and around the trail. Just as she was started to slow down and consider sitting on one of the benches to catch her breath, another runner came alongside her. Startled, she looked up to see the reporter next to her.
“What do you want?” Glory asked. “I told you all info has to come from Hank.”
“I know, Dr. Vandenburg,” Mac said keeping pace. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was about what happened to Casey. She’s a sweet kid.”
“How did you know, Casey?” Glory asked stopping to face him. When Mac hung his head, she understood. “Oh, I see. You tried to get information out of her. Please don’t tell me you romanced her,” Glory said getting angry.
“No. She was too...innocent. I did talk to her quite a bit, but you should know I got nothing useful. I’m just so pissed that this ’Mercy’ hasn’t been nailed yet. I want to see this bastard fried.”
“Do you always get this personal about the cases you cover?” Glory asked.
“No, not at all. But this crazy has hurt or killed two people I liked.”
“Oh? Casey’s one, who’s the other?” Glory asked her curiosity piqued.
“Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Mac’s face flushed.
“Candace? Oh, my, Candace. I’m so sorry. Did you know her well?”
“No, but I think I wanted too. She was fascinating...and smart.” Mac shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the ground. “This guy has hurt a lot of people in the name of his so-called mercy. I heard about your cats. How are any of those killings merciful? At first, I could almost get what he wanted to do, but now I think he’s just plain crazy.”
“Taking life is not our right. I think the more life you take, the less important it is to you and the easier it is to kill.”
“You’re probably right.” Mac looked down and shuffled his feet. “Well, thanks for talking to me and not getting out the tazer.” Mac smiled a cocky smile.
“You’re good as long as I don’t see any of this in the paper.” Glory returned his smile and started the return run to the condo.
When she got back, Aaron was up, showered, dressed and fixing breakfast. She went into the kitchen and put her arms around his back. She leaned into him just enjoying the feel of his firm muscles. “There is something so sexy about a man who can cook,” Glory said pressing close..
“Cooking is under the chapter ’Survival and Seduction Skills’.” Aaron replied.
“Smells wonderful. Do I have time for a quick shower?”
“Nope. It’s ready. Besides, sweat is sexy...on you.” Aaron took the full plates to the table.
They enjoyed a relaxing delicious meal, then Glory headed to the bedroom while Aaron put the dishes in the sink. “I’d love to stay,” he said. “But, I have to go back to the office. How about a quiet night tonight?”
“I love old movies and a few munchies,” Glory said from the door.
“It’s a date. See you at seven.” With that Aaron was out the door. Glory sighed and hit the shower. When she finished, she called the hospital to check on Casey and was pleased to hear she was fully conscious and out of ICU. She planned on stopping in for a visit.
***
Monday morning, Hank sat brooding at his desk. He hadn’t seen Claire in too long. Their schedules conflicted more than he thought reasonable. But, he had to admit, this was not a normal case. The murder count kept going up and even though they were making progress, no arrest was imminent. Hank let his mind wander to the last night he spent with her. Claire’s curves fit him like a glove and he never slept so well as when he was spooned against her back. Her breasts filled his hands and her buttocks cradled him in warmth. Hell, he’d better see her soon or...or...he didn’t know or what. He just better see her. As if on cue, his phone rang.
“Lieutenant Garcia,” Hank said.
“I want to confess to a crime,” Claire said with a purr.
“What crime is that?” Hank said leaning forward and smiling.
“Anything you want if it will get you over here to arrest me. I’m beginning to think that’s what it’ll take.” Claire’s laugh poured through the phone, sweet as honey.
“Are you busy tonight?” Hank asked.
“I should be out of court by five.”
“I’ll be there at seven. We can have a quiet evening,” Hank said smiling.
“Not too quiet,” Claire said with a laugh and hung up.
Hank stopped brooding as his imagination went to work. Unfortunately, work didn’t respect a man’s imagination.
Fuentes came and stood before his desk, excitement making her all but wiggle. “Sir?” she said.
“Yes, Fuentes. What’ve you got?”
“I’ve found two companies that are possibles as suppliers of the make up. Between the two, most of the disguises are covered. I have a list of clients from the companies, but no name that matches the suspect list.”
“Good work, Fuentes. Give me a copy of the list.” Hank took the copy and Fuentes left. He sat back in his chair and started to browse through the first list of names. He got halfway down the list when Browder came and and sat on the corner of his desk. Hank handed the copy of the other company’s list to him. “Fuentes thinks these two companies are possible suppliers. Most of the disguises are from them. She didn’t recognize any names. See what you can come up with.”
They went over the lists multiple times through the day, but no names stood out. They tried addresses and none matched with any suspect. The day ended in frustration. The only bright spot for Hank were thoughts of Claire. He took a quick shower at home and headed to her apartment. When she opened her door, he just stood and stared.
“Do I look familiar?” Claire asked smiling.
“Have I arrested you before?” Hank said twirling his handcuffs.
“I believe so. Why do you think I requested you? One does appreciate skill.” With a giggle, Claire pulled him inside and closed the door.
Tuesday morning the alarm sounded loud and insistent. Hank growled and reached across Claire’s form searching for the switch. “Damn things. Whoever invented the alarm clock should be shot.”
Claire slept on. Hank would swear she could sleep through anything. Her soft ladylike snores continued uninterrupted. He watched her for a moment enjoying the closeness he felt. He did love this woman, perhaps it was time to tell her. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Wake up, darlin’.”
Claire mumbled and tried to roll over, but he pinned her down. All of a sudden, Claire began to fight and fight in earnest, crying out. Hank let go and yelled, “Claire, it’s alright. It’s me. It’s Hank!”
Claire came awake and shook from head to toe. Hank could see her struggle against her fear and watched as it subsided. “Are you okay?” Hank asked.
Claire shook her head and smiled a weak attempt at humor. “Sorry,” she said. “Bad dream.”
Hank knew it was more than that, but would respect her privacy. She would tell him when she trusted him enough.
“Did I hurt you?” Claire asked.
“Nah,” Hank said. “I’m a big tough cop. Does this mean I get to add resisting arrest to your charges?”
Claire’s laugh sounded more like her usual self. She looked at the clock and groaned. “I have to be in court today. Time to get up. Why did you turn the alarm off?”
Hank could only laugh as he got up and headed for the shower. Claire joined him for a quick plea agreement. The two dressed and each headed to their separate offices promising to get together on Saturday night.
When Hank arrived at the office, Browder was already at his desk looking pensive.
“What’s up?” Hank asked.
“I noticed a name that isn’t on our suspect list, but there’s a Brian Davies on both lists. Wasn’t Brian the name of Angela’s brother?”
“I think so.”
“I know it’s a common enough name, but we should check it out,” Browder said.
“Do it.”
***
Mercy was tired. Working all day, then all night, was taking a toll even if it was only one night a week. This disguise was not working out. Something else would be worked out after tonight. Tuesday was bingo night at the nursing home, so most of the patients and staff would be in the recreation room. As the float nurse, Mercy could offer to stay behind to watch those too sick to attend...a perfect opportunity.
Chapter 29
“Damn,” Hank muttered hanging up the phone. “Another one.”
“We just had one last Thursday,” Browder complained. “He didn’t even wait a week.”
“What did you find out about Brian Davies?” Hank asked.
Browder went through a list of Davies accomplishments as a make up artist. He’d worked on multiple films and TV shows. The supplier provided the information on the credit card listed to Davies with an address in Miami.
“Either we have the biggest coincidence of all time, or Angela’s brother is not dead,” Browder said.
“What’s the address?”
“It’s a post office box.”
“Damn. We’ll need another warrant to get the name,” Hank said. “I’ll call the judge.”
Four hours later, with warrant in hand, they entered to post office. The box was empty, but the name on the rental was Brian Davies with his last known address..
“Time to talk to Angela,” Hank said as they got back in the car.
“I have to admit I’m surprised. Never thought it was her,” Browder muttered.
When they got to University Pharmaceutical, they asked for Trent’s office and explained that they needed to speak with Angela again. With a guard leading the way, they headed to the lab. Jeffries office was empty, so they went back out to the corridor and entered the lab. They only stood there for a moment before Angela walked over with a smile.
“Hello, Lieutenant,” Angela said offering her hand. “I’m sorry, but Dr. Jeffries is on medical leave. How can I help you?”
“Can we speak to you in private?” Hank asked shaking her hand.
“Of course. We can use Dr. Jeffries office.” With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the guard and then led them to the office. After they took their seats, she asked, “Now, what is it?”
“We would like to talk with you about your brother, Brian,” Hank said.
Angela looked confused. “What about him,” she asked.
“You said he passed away. May I ask how?”
“He was addicted to pain medications he took after an accident on a movie set. The studio kept him on as long as they could, but he spiraled down so fast. Nothing we tried...he wouldn’t let us...” Angela stopped, her throat working as she tried to control her tears.
“Was it an overdose?”
“It was suicide. He left a note.”
“How?” Hank asked.
“They think he drowned. They never found a body, just his empty boat.”
Damn, Hank thought, he’d rushed into this conversation too fast. He looked at Angela’s obvious grief. How could her brother have made his family believe he was dead? He’d have Fuentes look through the archives and get all the details.
“Thank you for your frankness. Sorry to put you through this distress,” Hank said. “We’ll let you get back to your work.”
“What’s this all about? Why are you asking about Brian?”
“Sorry, but I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation. Just filling in a few details is all.”
When they got back to the precinct, Hank ordered Fuentes to get whatever she could on Brian Davies’ death. Then he sat at his desk and brooded.
Two hours later, Fuentes was back with a report. Brian Fuentes had indeed left a note apologizing to his sister saying he wasn’t going to live a “long” death. His kidneys and liver were damaged and he would never pass for an organ donation. His empty fishing boat washed up on a small coastal inlet. Hank almost closed the folder when Fuentes pointed to a later article. Nowhere near the size of the dramatic suicide because there were bigger stories at that edition, a small article stated that a bloated and decomposing body was found a couple weeks later on a nearby inlet. DNA had to be used to verify identity. It was Brian Davies.
“Damn,” yelled Hank. “we’ve been played. Get me a warrant for the arrest of Angela Davies!”
***
Mercy “Angela Davies” packed up the last of the swabs she could have ready. They’d last a good long time. She left a note on Thompson’s desk to take over. She knew the officers would be back soon, and she wanted to be long gone. She’d take everything to the back-up apartment.
Now the world would know what she looked like. She laughed at the thought.
***
Hank grit his teeth as he paced the floor. He looked over at Browder and snapped, “I want to know everything about Angela Davies from birth till now. I’ll see you in the morning.” With a grunt, Hank left the room and headed for the one place he knew he could relax.
Claire opened the door with a smile. “Did we have a date tonight?”
“No,” Hank said as he grabbed her for a hug and held on.
“Oh my,” Claire murmured. “Bad day. Come on in.” She guided Hank to the couch and pushed him down. “Let me get you a beer.” She returned and handed Hank a cold beer and sat next to him. “Want to talk about it?”
“Did I ever tell you I think you’re perfect?” Hank leaned back a took a big swig. He sighed as the cold liquid ran down his throat. “You know you don’t want to make a habit of this. A man could get use to it.”
“That’s not a problem as long as I get the same treatment when I’ve had a bad day. Equal rights, you know. Besides, for one of your foot rubs, I’d do just about anything.”
“Liked that did ya?”
“Sure did. Now talk to me. What’s going on?”
Hank told Claire about Angela and how she’d played him long enough to disappear. He spent considerable time kicking himself till Claire stopped him. They ate a late supper and spent the rest of the evening trying to decide who gave the best back rub.
Hank left early the next morning and after grabbing some coffee to finish waking up, sat at his desk. He took only one sip before Browder and Fuentes were at his desk. They had gotten the personnel file on Angela and noted the next of kin was a great aunt that resided in an assisted living center in Hialeah. After going through the file, skimpy at best, they decided to go talk with the aunt. Hank called the facility and an appointment was made before lunch to speak with her.
The drive to Hialeah was quiet, the voice of the GPS the only sound. When they pulled into the Life Care Center, Browder gave a whistle. “Sure must be nice to retire like this. The old lady must be loaded.”
The pristine white three story building with gabled windows resembled a resort more than a assisted living facility. The manicured lawn had walkways winding through the gardens with benches placed in strategic locations and being put to good use. The two detectives received a few curious glances as they walked up the path to the double door front entrance. They went to the front desk and asked for Gladys Malone. After showing their identification, an aide came to escort them to Gladys’ apartment.
The aide knocked on the door calling out, “Gladys, your guests are here.”
A voice responded, “Bring them in, dear.”
The aide opened the door and said, “Follow me.”
They entered the apartment. Hank spotted a white-haired woman sitting in an alcove by a large bay window. Flowers were arranged on both sides of the window to catch the morning light. The woman looked healthy and alert. Wearing a bright smile, she offered her hand as they walked forward.
“Good day, gentlemen. Welcome. I understand you wanted to talk to me, although I can’t imagine about what. Please be seated.” Turning to the aide she said, “thank you, dear.” The aide smiled and left.
“Thanks for seeing us. I’m Lieutenant Garcia and this is Detective Browder.”
“Would you gentleman like a cup of tea? I’ve got a pot already made.” Gladys smiled. “I don’t get many guests these days.”
“That would be nice,” Hank replied.
Gladys turned to the table to pour and Browder bit back a laugh thinking he couldn’t wait to tell the boys about Hank sipping tea.
“Sugar?” Gladys asked.
“Black,” Hank said.
“And you Detective?” Gladys looked at Browder.
“Uh...the same, ma’m.” Browder took the offered cup and decided not to tell the boys.
Gladys served the tea with a gracious flourish, took a sip and sat back with a sigh. “Now, gentlemen, what can I do for you?”
“I’m here to talk with you about your family, ma’m,” Hank said taking a sip of his tea.
“Well, I’m afraid there aren’t many left. Seems like I outlived most of the relatives. Do you know I’ll be eighty-nine next month. Who knew I’d live to be this old!” Gladys’ giggle belonged to a young girl. “They say only the good die young, so I must have been wicked.”
Hank was charmed and couldn’t help but smile. He put his cup on the side table. “I’d like to know about Brian and Angela Davies,” he asked.
“Oh, Brian. What a waste that was. He was a brilliant artist. Charming, creative...everyone loved him. He and Andrew were very close. I can tell you they pulled quite a few practical jokes on everyone.” Gladys sipped her tea and cleared her throat. Her eyes misted.
“And Angela?” Hank asked.
“Don’t know any Angela. Who do you mean?” Gladys said.
“Angela...Brian’s sister,” Browder said.
“Brian didn’t have a sister...just Andrew. They were twins. Not identical, mind you, but as close as they could be. Andrew went a little crazy after Brian’s death. He had lost his mother a few years before...sad. So that left only me, an old woman. And we were never close. Who is this Angela?”
Hank and Browder looked at each other. They’d been duped royal.
“I’m sorry,” Hank said, “I meant to say Andrew. What can you tell me about her...him?”
“Well, Andrew was the quiet one. Always thoughtful and very considerate. Took wonderful care of his mother when she got sick, and believe me, she was not an easy patient. Brian was always so busy working. Andrew was the scientist in the family. Loved chemistry, biology, all the ologies. He wanted to be a research doctor, but taking care of his mother put a stop to that. Haven’t seen him in a long time, so don’t know what he’s up to now.” Gladys finished her cup and put the empty on the table. “I’ve been here for quite a few years now. I guess we could all live to be too old.” She sighed.
Hank took the old woman’s hand in his. “You, my lovely lady, could never be too old.”
Gladys blushed and smiled. “What a lovely thing to say. You, sir, are a gentleman.”
“Thank you for speaking with us,” Hank said and stood. Only then did he notice the walker in the corner.
Gladys caught his look and smiled. “I’m afraid my dancing days are over.”
***
Angela “Andrew” Davies’ apartment was a bust. Cleaned out. When Hank got back to the precinct, he ordered Fuentes to get all available information on Andrew Davies. He went over every contact with Angela in his mind trying to see Andrew. Damn, but Andrew was good. He had all the movements, facial expressions, hand gestures down pat. Hank never suspected she...he was a man. This killer was methodical and organized. Every detail was planned to the smallest degree. There had to be a back-up apartment. How to find it was the next task.
Chapter 30
Glory made all the usual cooing noises over a beautiful baby girl. Gretchen showed up with baby Grace and most of the department ended up in Glory’s office to offer proper homage. Glory laughed watching Phil turn into a puddle when Grace was put in his arms, then found herself doing the same when it was her turn.
Gretchen looked just as beautiful as ever. Motherhood agreed with her. Glory felt a faint twinge of jealousy then shook herself out of it. She had made her decision.
“When are you coming back?” Phil asked taking another turn with Grace.
“You may not get her back, Gretchen,” Melissa said with a laugh.
“I’d like another month, if it would be okay?” Gretchen pleaded with a smile.
“I can stay,” Melissa said. “If it’s okay with Dr. Vandenburg.”
“Of course,” Glory said.
The group broke apart and everyone went back to work. Gretchen sat on a chair and put Grace up on her shoulder rubbing her back in small circles. Glory found herself calmed just by watching her.
“I was so sorry to hear about Casey,” Gretchen said. She shuddered thinking it could have been her.
“I really hate this S.O.B,” Glory said as she sat behind her desk. “He may talk about ’mercy’, but I don’t see any. Hank has got to nail him soon.”
Her private phone rang. When Glory answered, she listened as Hank brought her up-to-date on the investigation. She was stunned.
“Well, damn,” Glory whispered.
“Bad news?” Gretchen asked.
“Yes and no. We know who the killer is...”
“But...?”
“She...he got away.”
***
Angela smoothed her long blonde hair and batted her now green eyes. The orderly stammered a little and pointed her to the room she’d requested. Lunches were being delivered as she entered the room of Trevor Norton. She looked at the aide trying to spoon some food into Trevor’s mouth. His vacant expression told the story.
“I can take over for you,” Angela said.
“And you are?” asked the aide. “I haven’t seen you before.”
“I’m a niece. I’m visiting from California and thought I’d stop in. Haven’t seen Uncle Trevor for years. I’d like to help.”
“Very well, if you want. I have two others that need help. Holler if you need anything. That’s the call light,” the aide said pointing to the button before she left the room.
Angela looked with pity at what remained of Trevor. She bowed her head and said a prayer. “Soon you will be at peace, Trevor. Rest well.”
She swabbed his mouth and left the room. She was long gone before the aide returned to check on Trevor.
***
“Damn, damn, damn.” Glory picked up the phone to tell Hank about the newest victim. Her head pounded and her mouth felt dry. She found herself wondering how a man could become such a killer. Most murders were for personal reasons...love, hate, fear or personal gain. These killings were so random. There were no personal reasons why the victims were selected, just their terminal diagnosis. The volume of potential candidates in a city the size of Miami was daunting.
Thinking about the patient lists from the drug companies, Glory wondered what drew Andrew’s attention to the next individual. She called Hank and asked him to fax her a copy of the lists then went back to her normal duties for the rest of the morning.
Melissa brought in the requested lists just before lunch. Glory asked her to pick up a salad for her, then picked up the lists to look over. She checked diagnosis, sex, age, race, hell, she even looked at occupation, and couldn’t find a common thread.
Just as she was going to throw the lists on her desk, she noticed birth dates. She got out her list of victims and did a side-by-side comparison. Almost all the victims were born in June. A few were in May or July, but the dates were close to June. Could it be as simple as that? Glory picked up her cell.
“Hey, Glory,” Hank’s voice sounded tired.
“Hank, I have an idea.” Glory told him her suspicion about the date being part of Angela’s selection process. “What do you think?”
“I think when I get back to the precinct I’ll check it out. It sure would help us narrow down the stakeouts.” Hank’s voice regained his usual vigor when he hung up.
Glory smiled. Please let this be something.
***
Hank sat at his desk and thought about his next move. Andrew could be anywhere by now, but he was sure the killer was still in Miami. The sketches proved useless in their search, but now they had an identity. Somewhere there had to be a photo of the elusive Andrew. He gave an order to Fuentes then placed a call to Gladys
“Hello, Gladys. How are you today?” Hank said.
“This could only be the handsome young Lieutenant.” Gladys replied.
“Correct. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple more questions?”
“Of course. What would you like to ask?”
“I need more information about Andrew...like where he went to school? Did he grow up in Miami?”
“Well,” Gladys paused, “they lived in Daytona for awhile, but then, after her husband left, my niece moved to Miami to take a job.” Gladys told Hank about the rough years the family had while Andrew and Brian’s mom struggled. She finally got a job where she could comfortably support her twins.
Brian was a good student, but more balanced in his personal life. He always looked after Andrew and made sure he was included. He loved movies...monster and aliens, in particular. His creativity and talent led to success till a scaffold on set collapsed, trapping him beneath. His back was broken along with a severe concussion. There were more injuries, but they were minor in comparison. He lay unconscious for two weeks. Andrew barely left his side.
Andrew was always the quiet one. He was a brilliant student and got a full ride to Johns Hopkins. After four years of pre-med, he was accepted to med school. However their mom got sick during his second year and he had to leave to care for her. Brian became the financial support. She lingered for a couple of years draining all the family’s resources. The house was sold after her death to help pay her debts.
After their mother’s death, the boys lived in Miami. Andrew got a job at a local lab, and after working his way up, he was looking into re-applying to med school. That was when Brian had his accident.
“You never did tell me why you were so interested in my family?” Gladys asked.
“I’m sorry, Gladys. I can’t tell you right now, but I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”
“Andrew’s in trouble, isn’t he?”
Hank was silent.
“I knew it. I’m so very sorry to hear that. He was always a bit strange. If not for Brian, he would have been a loner, I’m sure.”
“Thank you, Gladys. I will be in touch when I can.” Hank hung up the phone feeling a deep sadness. He didn’t want to tell Gladys her only living relative was a serial killer.
Browder came in with a couple of yearbooks. One from high school and one from Hopkins. They made copies of the class photos of Andrew and sent them out to the task force. The different facilities that were hit received copies as well. Once again they stressed the importance of not approaching anyone suspicious. All unknown persons should be screened by the officer assigned to their facility.
***
Andrew sat brooding in his back up apartment. He found the seediness of this tiny retreat depressing. He could smell stale cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey. The dingy blue walls had turned to gray with age, the rug became threadbare and brown. He sighed thinking his life was degenerating into a B-rated movie.
The list sat on the cracked coffee table. There were still so many that needed help, but the time had come to move on. He had enough swabs to last him a good long time since the toxin lasted for years. Setting up in another city would be a hassle and another system would have to be found to select his clients.
He had enough experience and knowledge to pass as a nurse’s aide and that would give him access to the patient’s information. Perhaps being a home health aide would work. The planning would take some time, but a strange pressure seemed to be building up inside him. He needed to help release someone from their suffering.
Walking into the bedroom, Andrew looked through the boxes to try and decide who he wanted to be tonight or maybe tomorrow morning. The time needed to be changed again and because of his work at the lab, he’d never done an early morning release. Mother did so love her morning coffee...had to be just so. Maybe he should deliver the breakfast trays.
Chapter 31
Gloria Potter worked the third floor cancer ward. She’d been an aide for fifteen years now and loved her work and her patients. An eternal optimist, she celebrated the successes and cried with the loses. Patients loved her. Her smile and humor helped to brighten the rough days.
Morning trays were going out when Gloria noticed a new face. Ever one to welcome new faces, she approached the woman.
“Good morning. I’m Gloria, one of the aides here. And you are?”
“Oh, hi. I’m Theresa. The supervisor sent me up here to help. I’m new here and she wants me to work a few floors to get a feel for the place.” Theresa smiled as she pulled out a tray.
“Well, you sure do dig right in. When the trays are passed, I’ll show you around,” Gloria said returning Theresa’s smile. She pulled out a tray and the two women went down the hall.
Gloria went into a room and dumped the tray on the bedside table. She picked up the phone and called the supervisor’s office. “Did you send up a new aide, a Theresa?” she asked when the phone was answered. “I thought so. Call the police. I think “Mercy” is here. She’s got brown hair and eyes. I’ll try and delay her.” Hanging up the phone, Gloria went back to the trays and waited.
Theresa walked out of a room down the hall and approached the tray cart..
“Why don’t I show you around now? Gloria asked smiling her brightest smile. “There’s only a couple trays left and Maria can handle that.”
“Why don’t you show me to the ladies room,” Theresa said. “I had too many cups of coffee this morning.”
“Sure, follow me.”
***
“We got a call from Miami General. All hands on deck,” Hank shouted. “No sirens near the hospital.”
When Hank arrived at the hospital, there were already close to a dozen squad cars. He deployed officers to all the exits. “The tip says Mercy is a female aide on the third floor, brown on brown. No one gets out without verification of identity and employment.”
The officers were paired up and sent to cover the elevators and stairwells. Hank and Browder took the main elevator to the third floor. Fuentes jumped through the doors just as they were closing.
“Permission to come along? I owe this bastard,” Fuentes asked.
“Permission granted.”
The three exited the elevator and headed toward the nurses’s station. The clerk looked up and smiled. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a Gloria Potter,” Hank said flashing his badge. “Can you tell me where she is?”
“Not right this minute. Is it urgent? I can page her.”
“Do that.”
The clerk hit a pager number and they waited. After a few minutes, Hank’s gut twisted. He signaled Fuentes and Browder down one side of the rooms and he took the other. The search came up empty. No Gloria Potter and no aide that matched the description..
“Maybe she’s in the break room,” the clerk said.
“Where’s that?” Hank asked.
“Around the corner from the elevators. First door on the right.”
The three went to the lounge and found it empty as well. Hank motioned Fuentes into the ladies room. When Fuentes shouted, Hank ran through the door with Browder close behind.
Fuentes was kneeling beside an aide unconscious on the bathroom floor. She felt for a pulse and nodded. “She’s alive.” Shaking Gloria brought a soft moan. After a moment, her eyelids flickered and opened.
“You okay?” Fuentes asked.
“I...I think so,” Gloria muttered trying to sit up.
“You’re lucky to be alive,” Hank said. “What happened?”
“I was trying to delay her to give you guys time to get here. Didn’t do such a good job, did I?” Gloria sat up. “My family always said I was a lousy liar. Soon as we got here, she belted me. That’s all I remember.”
Hank and Browder left Fuentes with Gloria and went back to the lounge. Hank gave a brief report on the radio and told the officers to search the facility and stop everyone trying to leave the building.
***
Andrew watched from across the street as the police drove up and entered the hospital. Rather entertaining, he thought, if not for the unfulfilled mission. He was proud of his restraint with the aide even though she ruined his mission. If the rest of the hospital staffs follow her example, his crusade in Miami was over.
***
When Hank got back to his office he found Mac sitting in front of his desk and he didn’t look happy. Plopping down in his chair, Hank stared at the reporter.
“Thought we had a deal?” Mac said.
“We do.”
“Then why wasn’t I told you’d identified the killer? Why didn’t you let me know about the tip?”
“I was a little busy and too busy to call you with every bit of news.” Hank leaned back and thought for a moment. “But, now that you’re here, you may be able to help.”
“Anything.”
“I need to get clearance first, but I think it’s time to go public.
***
The next morning on the Miami Herald’s front page, Mac wrote the story of Andrew Davies complete with an old driver’s license and college graduation photos. He told the tale of Gloria Potter and how her quick thinking almost led to the ’Mercy Killer’s’ capture.
“Do you know how many false alarms we’re going to have now?” Browder said.
“Yeah, but we couldn’t keep this quiet...too many people were involved.” Hank sipped his third cup of coffee.
“Do you think he’ll skip town?” Browder asked.
“Somehow I don’t think so, otherwise I think he would have taken off already. Miami has a hold on him. Also, his potential victim list is here. If he moved, he’d have to start all over again. I don’t think he can stop.”
***
A few days later, Mac sat in the park eating his sub when an elderly man sat beside him wearing a light summer suit. His trimmed white mustache and goatee gave him a distinguished look.
“Good afternoon, young man,” the man said putting his hands on the top of his cane.
“Back at ya,” Mac mumbled with a full mouth.
“You look familiar. Have I met you before?” the man said.
“Don’t think so. I’m Mac.” Mac offered his hand and the man shook it. Mac hadn’t seen gloves in forever. This dude was definite old school, he thought.
“I’m Andrew.”
Mac froze in his seat and the sub slid to the ground. “The...the Andrew?”
“Yes, indeed, and don’t make a move or you’re a dead man.” Andrew took the paper from under his arm and unfolded it. “Not my best pictures, I’m afraid. And you don’t do a very good job...you’re only telling one side of the story.”
“They published the letter you sent. What else do you want?”
I want people to understand the importance of what I’m doing, and they’re never going to do that the way you portray me.”
“You’re a murderer. You kill innocent people.”
“I alleviate great suffering...physical, emotional and financial. I do for others what they didn’t do for me and can’t do for themselves. How is that evil?”
“And the others? The ones that weren’t sick? You can’t justify them and calling them a casualty is only an excuse.”
“I’m terribly sorry about them. But I didn’t hurt Gloria. Don’t I get credit for that?” The old man tipped his head and gazed into Mac’s eyes.
Mac saw guilt and sorrow in the man’s eyes, but also a deep darkness. If eyes could be black, Mac would swear Andrew’s were like pitch.
“I watched my mother die a horrible death that terrified both Brian and myself. We said we’d never let each other suffer like that, but when Brian’s time came, I couldn’t do it. So, he did it himself. Took a handful of pills out on the water and coasted away. Now, I’m alone.” Andrew looked down at his hands and a tear fell.
Mac sat silent unable to think of a thing to say.
“Great love can give us the strength to do what we must. Mercy is a gift.” Andrew stood and looked down at Mac. “Don’t try anything. I don’t want to hurt any more innocents.” With that, he walked away.
“Shit,” Mac said and pulled out his cellphone.
***
Hank ordered the squad cars to keep a look out for an elderly man fitting Mac’s description, but they came up empty. He was so tired of hitting his head on a brick wall. Listening to what Mercy said, he couldn’t feel any real sympathy. He saw the faces of Mary Carstairs, Candace Adams and Casey Sweet. He felt grief. And what kind of man kills two cats just to get even. Crazy, that’s who.
Tonight was the Friday night poker game and for the first time ever, he didn’t really want to go. His body ached with a deep down fatique, right down to his bones. He needed Claire. With a call he canceled telling Aaron to call Glory, and then he called Claire. Offering to pick up Chinese, he headed over. If he could just see her face he knew he would feel better.
Claire’s smile when she opened the door was the first time in days he felt like himself. With his arms full of bags, he was led to the kitchen. He put them on the counter and with a sigh, put his arms around her.
“Rough day?” Claire asked.
“Another almost and I should resign.”
“Now Hank, you’re the best there is so don’t be getting all tied up in knots. This killer planned for a long time. He dotted his i’s and crossed his t’s. You can’t be expected to put it all together any faster than you are. After all, it took over a year for us to even know there was a crime.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know you’re right. It just grinds me.”
The evening was quiet. They watched a movie after dinner and Claire asked Hank to spend the night. Their lovemaking was slow and gentle...long caresses and deep sighs. Claire fell asleep on Hank’s shoulder as he lay there smoothing her hair.
“I love you,” Hank whispered and closed his eyes.
Chapter 32
Glory answered the phone just before she walked out the office door. She guessed it would be a quiet night since the boys were playing poker.
“Hello,” Glory said, “Make it fast I was on my way out the door.”
“Hey, Glory, it’s Aaron. Are you interested in another shot at the poker game. Hank canceled last minute so we’ve got an empty slot.”
“Is he okay?” Glory asked.
“Yeah. Just tired. I think he wanted to go over to see Claire.”
“Well then, hell yes.”
“I’ll pick you up. Same time.”
“I’ll be ready.” Glory said and shut out the lights.
When she got home, she showered and put on some comfortable jeans and a low cut tee shirt. Couldn’t hurt to cause a little distraction. The ride to the house was fun. Aaron regaled her with stories of his training days. When they drove up to the house, Glory grabbed her ’gift’ bag and followed Aaron through the front door.
“Look who’s here, again.” Stan’s irritating voice announced as Glory entered the room.
“Welcome back,” Pete said with a smile. He nodded towards the bag. “Did you bring us a present?”
“Yes, I did.” Glory pulled out two six packs of Zombie Dust, her favorite beer. “I’m treating you boys, so you better be nice to me tonight.”
“What’s that shit? We don’t need no fancy female beer,” Stan said with a sneer.
“Then you don’t need to try any. This is only for the refined palate. Who wants to try one?” Glory opened bottles for Pete, Ron, Aaron and herself and took her seat. The guys all sampled her offering and nodded their approval.
“This is Ron,” Aaron said introducing the player Glory had replaced at her first game.
“Glad to meet ya,” Ron said with a smile. “Great beer. Thanks.”
“My pleasure. Now I do hope all you boys came prepared to lose.”
“Well getting us drunk may help ya,” Pete said with a laugh. “I’ll take Stan’s share.”
Glory took her seat and the game began. She started out the first few hands with nothing and was thinking that luck was definitely not on her side. The next hand started the turn around with a full house. The pot was decent. The next two hands she lost to Aaron and Ron, who she thought might be the best of the group. He was cool as a cucumber and had no tells.
Stan was the first to go bust. He was an easy read. Pete was next, then Aaron lost to Ron’s flush. Glory and Ron played on for a couple of hands when they decided to go for broke. One hand takes it all. Glory pulled two kings, a deuce, a four, and an ace. She tossed down the deuce and four and drew a queen and three. When Ron called, she laid down her pair of kings and was surprised when he started to laugh. Then Ron put down his two kings and the table joined in.
“High card wins,” Pete said. “Ladies first.”
Glory put down her ace and Ron sighed and laid down his ace.
“Holy shit,” Pete said. “Next?”
Glory put down her queen and Ron nodded. “Well done,” he said as he put down a ten. “My congratulations.”
Glory reached her hand over the table and they shook. “It was strictly luck, kind sir. You are a great poker player.”
Aaron and Glory left soon after. She felt giddy at her win. When they arrived back at her condo she gave Aaron a moment to shut off the engine before she kissed him. Within moments his shirt was unbuttoned. Breathing heavy, Glory stopped. “Unless we want to give the watchman a show, we’d better head upstairs.”
***
Andrew got out of the cab, took off his gloves and pushed them into his coat pocket. No one was on the street so he pealed off his mustache, and it followed. He entered the foyer, inserted his key in the security door and entered the tenement. His shoulders sagged as he walked up the stairs to his apartment. No one seemed to understand his mission. The whole thing was so clear to him.
The dingy apartment did little to welcome him. Stripping off his costume, he placed the components back into the box. The southern gentleman would be good for a nursing home, he thought. Hunger pains gripped him so he headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge door. The pickings were slim, but he grabbed out a leftover sandwich and sat at the table.
Andrew remembered how his mother loved sandwiches. She really wasn’t much of a cook, but she could make a sandwich out of anything. And pies...she loved pies. He remembered one night when she had the midnight munchies and went to cut a piece of pie only to find he and Brian had eaten the remaining half. The neighbors heard the resounding yells as she woke up them up and made them go to the store and replace it. She wouldn’t even let them take time to get dressed. They went in their pajamas. That was the last time they finished off one of her pies. Thank God no one from school saw them.
A picture entered his mind of Mom laying in bed years after with not an once of meat on her bones. Her arm was to weak to raise a spoon so he’d ladle a small teaspoon of broth into her mouth only to watch it dribble down her chin.
“Just let me go,” she’d murmur and his tears flowed.
Why couldn’t people understand the mercy of his actions. He did for them and their suffering loved ones what they couldn’t do for themselves. Andrew stood and paced around the room. He’d failed this last mission so he would try again. They wouldn’t expect that, he thought. He made his plan.
That night a distinguished gentleman walked into the hospital and up to the third floor. He walked passed the nurse’s desk with a soft step so the clerk never even looked up. At the end of the hall he entered a quiet room. Visiting hours were almost over, so he deployed the swab, put a note on the bedside table and left. Halfway down the hall another aide came out of the room and almost bumped into him.
“Oh, sorry. Please excuse me,” she said.
“Quite alright, miss. A pretty little thing like you could bowl me over anytime,” Andrew said as he tipped his hat.
The aide blushed and gave a little giggle. “Aren’t you a charmer,” she replied.
“You have no idea. Have a wonderful night.” With that, Andrew walked back to the elevators and down he went. His pulse was racing. This was an exciting release. Take that Lieutenant Garcia!
***
“That cocky bastard,” Browder said through gritted teeth as he handed the note to Garcia.
Dear Hank,
Hope that you don’t mind if I call you Hank. We seem be be getting to know each other well. I enjoyed watching your boys. Since I was frustrated at failing my mission, I could sympathize with how you all must have felt.
I really couldn’t leave John in such a desperate state so I visited him last night. This really is a wonderful facility with friendly personnel.
Have a good day. Mercy
“Why does he sign his name as ’Mercy’? We already know who he is,” Browder asked.
“I think it’s how he sees himself when he is on mission.” Hank looked around the room. The body was already moved to the morgue, but cause of death was a moot point. The aide walked in and introduced herself.
“I’m Molly Adkins, sir. I found the note.” The young girl wrung her hands and tears gathered in her eyes.
“Don’t be scared, Molly. Just tell us what you saw,” Hank asked.
“I was coming out of Terry’s room and almost run into this old guy. We talked for a moment and he went on his way. A little while later I went to see to John and he was gone. If it weren’t for the note, I wouldn’t have thought anything about it. He was in a bad way and not expected to last much longer.”
“What did the old man say?”
“Nothing much.” Molly recounted the brief conversation to Hank then shrugged her shoulders. “Hard to believe he’s the killer.”
“Well he is, Molly, so call if you see anyone suspicious...call and don’t go near him.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t catch on to the old guy being the killer. But he wasn’t suspicious, he was sweet.”
While Hank and Browder rode the elevator down, Browder muttered under his breath.
“What are you grumbling about?” Hank asked.
“How are we going to catch this guy? We’ve handed out his photos and a list of his known disguises and so far we’ve terrorized a janitor, a temp nurse, and an old lady. I don’t need to hear that he’s sweet!”
“This is my fault. I didn’t have anyone posted here. We were down a couple men and I thought this would be the last place he’d come back to after such a close call. I figured wrong.” The return to the station was quiet as each detective thought over the details. Hank dropped Browder off to get his car and headed home. These late hours killed him. Must be getting old, he thought, or Mercy is making me old.
The next morning Hank called Fuentes up and ordered her to look for the new costume supplies. A couple hours later she came up empty. Must have a new source, Hank thought. He added the fancy gentleman to the list and sent it out to the other officers and facilities.
The next few days saw the department being called to multiple facilities for false alarms. The Captain was surly at best and demanded better results from his department. Like we weren’t trying, Hank thought. The newspapers weren’t helping any. The fact that Mac had gotten the exclusive only antagonized them more. Also his story on the park meeting even made it to the evening news. Mac was making it to the bigtime.
Hank called a staff meeting and tried to brainstorm a different strategy. They were due for some luck. As fate would have it, luck arrived.
Chapter 33
Andrew looked over his lists. Selecting someone to help was getting more difficult. The police were now aware of his methods to the point that he had to change things around. He looked at the remaining subjects and realized he would have to change again. Any pattern would now make him vulnerable so he must go totally random. That decision made him uncomfortable. With a sigh, he looked over the names and one called to him. Alice Stephens. Mother’s best friend was named Alice. He would help her next.
The excitement of being noticed added to Andrew’s high, so he decided to be noticeable. He got out his old denim jacket and tore off the sleeves pairing that with the oldest and dirtiest jeans in his wardrobe. Dragons, he wanted dragons. Laughing, he went to work.
***
Mary Louise sat by her mother’s bedside holding the once strong and firm hand. The family had been called, but Mary would keep vigil until everyone came to say their goodbyes. Memories flowed through her mind and she couldn’t help but smile. Mom was a character. She said she wanted to come back as a bird because flying was as close to God as we could get. Her last adventure before she got sick was zip lining up in Alaska. World’s longest zip line they advertised. Mom loved it.
Mary Louise heard a soft moan and looked up as her Mom’s eyes opened. This was the first time in days that Mom had been aware.
“Mom?” Mary Louise said and leaned forward. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes, dear. I’m here.”
“Everyone’s coming. I called them all.”
“Thank you, dear...too late. Give...love...to all.” With a sigh, Mom’s eyes closed and she was gone.
Mary Louise hung her head and said a prayer. The door opening made her turn around. With a start, she took in the wild and crazy man standing in the door.
“Who are you?” Mary Louise asked.
The man looked around the room and focused on the bed. “She’s gone already, ain’t she?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, shit.”
“Who are you? Are you one of John’s boys?”
“Nah. I’m nobody. Got the wrong room.” With that, he turned and left.
Mary Louise shrugged her shoulders and hit the call light to let the staff know that her mother was gone. The aide came in right away and after checking for a pulse, laid her hand on Mary Louise’s shoulder.
“I’m so sorry. At least she is out of pain now. So sorry more of the family didn’t make it. Only two of you.”
“Two of us? It was only me.” Mary Louise wiped her eyes with a tissue.
“Who was the other guy? He was just in here.”
“I don’t know. Said he had the wrong room and just left.”
“Well,” the aide said, “I’ll let your doctor know. Are you going to stay with her till the rest of the family get here?”
“Yes, I’d like to.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be back in a minute.” The aide went to the nurses station and called down to the supervisor’s office. “I want to report someone suspicious.”
***
The call went out to the officers stationed at the different facilities. The aide’s description of the rough and tattooed man was an easy spot. The officer at Miami General noticed him getting off the front elevator walking with purpose towards the front door.
“Excuse me, sir,” Officer Braddock stepped in front of the man. “May I speak with you a moment?”
“Yeah, whataya want? Can’t a fella visit his sick mother without being harassed. I ain’t done nothin’.”
“Sorry for the inconvenience, but we’re looking this man.” Braddock held up a picture of Andrew Davies and it was all Andrew could do not to laugh.
“Never seen ’im.”
“Can I see some ID?” Braddock asked.
Andrew dug into his front pocket like he was going for his wallet. “Shit. Forgot my wallet.” He shrugged.
“Well, sir. If you’ll just come down to the station, we will get this all settled and you can go on your way.”
“If’n you don’t got a warrant, I’s going nowheres with you.”
Just then another police car pulled up front and Andrew began to sweat. Without warning, he pushed Braddock into a group of chairs and turned to run as the officer fell to the floor. Andrew ran towards the wing that housed the emergency department.
The waiting room was full as Andrew ran across heedless of any in his way. Angry shouts and curses echoed in his wake. As he exited through the sliding glass doors, another police cruiser squealed to a stop. A female officer exited the passenger side before the car came to a complete halt and she ran for Andrew as he turned and made for the alley. After shouting into the radio, the driver exited and followed close behind.
Andrew heard shouts and pounding steps behind him and ran full out. The noises began to recede except for one persistent officer.
“Halt, police,” a voice called. “Don’t make me shoot.”
Andrew pulled down garbage cans and boxes to block the path and saw only the one female officer. He spun and took off again. The alley exited onto a major street, but Andrew didn’t slow. He entered the congested flow and vaulted over hood of one sedan and scrambled behind a delivery truck. Horns blared as frightened drivers slammed on breaks. A crash sounded behind, but he didn’t pause for a moment.
After making the other side, he glanced back and saw the officer. He ran into a restaurant and flew past the line, ignoring the angry protests. He slipped through the tables and out into the kitchen exiting out the back door into another alley. He hid behind a dumpster to catch his breath. Only a few moments later, the officer burst out of the door.
She looked up and down the alley and swore when she didn’t see him. Andrew tried to calm his breathing to keep from giving his spot away when he heard the sound of a trigger being cocked.
“I know you’re here,” she said. “Come out.”
“Ain’t ya going to say with my hands up?” Andrew said walking out from behind the dumpster. “What’s this all about. I ain’t done nuthin’.”
“We’ll just have to see about that back at the station.”
“Ya can’t shoot an unarmed man.”
“No, but I can wound him.” The officer kept her gun on him and pulled out her cell and hit speed dial.
“Garcia, it’s Fuentes. I got the suspect. We’re in an alley behind ’La Dolce Vita’.” She listened for a moment and said, “Yes, sir.”
When she put her phone back into her pocket, Andrew made his move and rushed forward. He had nothing to lose. She fired and the bullet grazed his left shoulder, but didn’t slow him down. He plowed into her and took her to the ground. Her head hit the asphalt with a crack and dazed her for a moment. Andrew tried to get up to run, but she grabbed his legs and down he went. He kicked to dislodge her grip, but she was tenacious.
Sirens blared as a car entered the alley from the left. That way was now blocked. Hank exited the back door of the restaurant and pulled his gun.
“Stop, now,” Hank ordered.
Andrew stopped.
The mission was over.
Chapter 34
“Damn, Fuentes,” Hank said, “Never knew you were so fast.”
Fuentes made a weak attempt at a smile. Her head was spinning so she leaned against the wall. Her knees gave out and she slid down the wall till her butt hit the concrete. “All-State in track and field,” she muttered.
“You’re hurt,” Hank said and motioned an officer to come over. “Get her checked out,” he ordered.
“I shoulda killed the bastard,” Fuentes complained. “That’s the second time he’s laid me out. But, my hand shook. Never fired at a suspect before.”
“I hear you,” Hank said smiling. “The first time is always rough. Wouldn’t want it any other way. You did some damn good work.” Hank looked for the nearest officer. “Call an ambulance.”
“I’m fine, sir. Don’t need any ambulance.” Fuentes tried to stand but slid back down the wall. “Well, maybe.”
Andrew was cuffed and sitting in the back of a police cruiser. He hadn’t spoken since Hank arrested him. “Take him in,” Hank ordered.
The ambulance arrived and the paramedics checked out Fuentes and confirmed Hank’s opinion. They loaded Fuentes onto a stretcher and Hank could hear her complaints up till they closed the doors.
The alley emptied out and Hank went back through the restaurant to get to his car he left on the street. He signaled the officer directing traffic that he could go and started his engine. It’s over, he thought and headed back to the station.
The mood when he entered was celebratory with smiles all around. Hank went to the Captain’s office and made a full report and put Fuentes in for a citation.
“Good work,” Harkins said. “Is Fuentes alright?”
“I’ll be checking on her as soon as I’m done here.”
“Keep me informed. Dismissed.”
When Hank got back to his desk he called the hospital and was told Fuentes was still being checked out, but seemed okay. He pulled his notes and ordered Andrew brought to the interrogation room. Browder walked into the room and straight over to Hank.
“Missed the whole damn thing,” Browder complained.
“Can’t be everywhere,” Hank replied.
“Fuentes okay?”
“Probably has a concussion. She took a hard hit to the head when she went down.”
“She’ll be fine then,” Browder quipped. “Everyone knows cops have hard heads. You going down to question Davies?”
Yeah. Wanna watch?”
“Hell, yeah.”
The two detectives went back to interrogation room one’s observation room. They looked at Andrew Davies as he sat quiet and composed and just staring at the window with a small smile on his face.
“Cocky bastard,” Browder said.
“Not cocky. I just don’t think he cares about what happens next.”
“He has to know the prosecution will ask for the death penalty,” Browder said.
“Yeah, he knows. Watch and see what you think.”
Hank exited the observation room and entered room one putting his file on the table and taking the chair across from Andrew. The two men sat and looked at each other in silence. Andrew’s smile got a little bigger.
“Have you been read your rights?” Hank asked.
“I have.”
“Do you understand those rights.”
“I do.”
“Would you like to make a statement?”
“Maybe I should wait for a lawyer,” Andrew mused tapping his fingers together. “After all, I have been chased and shot for no good reason.”
“Your wound has been attended to and was minimal. The officer was injured far worse than that scratch.” Hank could feel his blood pressure rise.
“She’s the one who pulled the gun. I was unarmed and merely defended myself.”
“Hardly, when one swipe of your swab would’ve killed her.”
“What are you talking about? What swab? Did you find any such thing on my person?” Andrew asked with innocent eyes and raised eyebrows.
“We’re looking. You ditched it on the chase. Doesn’t it worry you that a kid could find it? One more innocent victim.”
“Since I don’t know what you’re talking about, I can’t answer that.”
“You are a real piece of work.”
“I think I’ll take that lawyer now.” Andrew sat back and folded his arms.
Hank got up and left. They both knew how this was going to end, but seems like Andrew wanted to play the game out. Hank called the public defender’s office since Andrew had no lawyer listed to see who was going to be assigned to the case. Whoever it was would be in for a bad time. Defenders of serial killers didn’t go over well with the public. The whole fair trial bit went right out the window. People wanted blood.
Next Hank called the County Prosecutor’s office to see who would handle the states’ case and found himself transferred to Claire.
“Claire Franks.” Claire’s voice sounded warm and husky.
“So you got the case. Piss off your boss lately?” Hank asked.
“Hank...congrats on catching the creep,” Claire said. “I can’t wait to nail his ass.”
“Sounds like you’re taking this personal.”
“You bet I am. Murderers piss me off.”
“Otherwise, honey, how was your day?” Hank quipped.
“Okay, okay. I’ll tone it down, but you just gave me a lot of work to do. My boss wants this fast tracked because it will be a media circus so I’m in for a lot of late nights. Sorry, but I have to cancel tonight.”
“Thought so when I heard your voice. Damn, I was really looking forward to dinner. Had to make those reservations a month ago.”
“Then I guess you shouldn’t have caught the guy today.” Claire’s laugh already sounded tired. “Anyways, I gotta go. I’ll see ya when I see ya, I guess.” The phone went dead.
Hank sighed. “Love you ,” he murmured.
The media buzz started immediately. Turns out cell phones were up and recording the street chase. Fuentes pursuit was already the stuff of legend and she was still in the hospital. Her cat scan showed no serious damage, but the concussion left her with nausea and vertigo. They were keeping her overnight for observation.
“Did you catch that chase? Didn’t know a woman could run like that let alone leap tall buildings,” Browder said after watching the chase on Youtube.
Hank grunted and kept working on his report. Now that dinner plans were canceled he had all the time in the world. He found he didn’t want to go home so decided to go to Murphy’s. He called Aaron who said yes, but Browder had to get home. His wife had plans. Hank finished the report and sent copies to the Captain and the prosecutor’s office. After closing down his computer, he headed out. His romantic evening turned into a night with the boys...well the boys and a girl.
“Congratulations,” Glory said smiling. “I’m sure you’re tired of hearing that already.”
Hank slid into the booth across from Aaron and signaled the waitress for a beer. The evening passed with Hank giving them a rundown of the capture and a debate on possible defense strategies. Hank needed to be sure he had his ducks in a row. His officers had yet to find the swab, but he had a full day tomorrow interviewing the list of witnesses.
***
A young, fresh-faced lawyer stood before Hank’s desk just after 9 am. He could smell the bright-eyed idealism radiating off the man so he knew this had to be Davies’ lawyer.
“Can I help you?” Hank asked.
“I’m Calvin Hengst, Andrew Davies public defender.” Calvin thrust his hand out.
“Hank Garcia, Lieutenant.” Hank shook the offered hand.
“I’d like to speak with my client.”
“Be my guest. I assume you know the way.”
“Have you spoken with my client? Did he make any statements?”
“He was read his rights and asked for a lawyer. That pretty much sums it up. You can read it all in my report.” Being around this guy was making Hank feel old and tired.
“Very well, thank you.” The lawyer nodded his head and headed back towards the interrogation rooms.
The witness interviews didn’t provide any surprises. A few more videos were uploaded and Hank went over them multiple times hoping he could see when Davies unloaded the swab. The last one he looked at, why is it always the last, he thought, he noticed Davies slip and go down on one knee. This angle shot showed Davies’ hand open and something went down the grating. Davies then was back on his feet and moving. He called the duty officer and told him to have his officers check that grate and hoped something would turn up. At least he could stop worrying about any innocent finding and opening the baggy.
Hank’s phone rang. “Lieutenant Garcia, here. How can I help you?”
“I don’t know, but maybe I can help you. I think I’ve got some info on the Mercy killer. You interested?” a raspy voiced asked.
“I’d say yes.”
“What’s it worth to you?” the voice demanded.
“Depends on how good it is.” Hank signaled to Browder to trace the call.
“I may know where the guy lives. Whataya say to that?”
“Exactly what do you want?” Hank asked.
“I’m in a bit of trouble and I’d like it to go away.”
“What kind of trouble?”
After a brief hesitation, the voice replied, “drugs.”
“Selling or using?”
“Both.”
“Then I’d have to talk to the D.A.’s office and they’d have to agree. You been busted before?”
“Afraid so, but I can’t go back in. They’ll kill me this time. So, if you help me, I’ll help you.”
The voice faded a moment, then Hank heard a harsh cough. “I need help, man.”
“I’ll see what I can do. What’s your name?”
“Otis Sterling.”
“What can you tell me about the killer?” Hank asked.
“No dice. You talk to the DA first and I’ll call back tomorrow to see if we gotta deal.” The line went dead.
“You get it?” Hank asked Browder.
“Yeah.”
“I need a warrant,” Hank told Browder about the call, then he picked up his phone and put a call into Claire. He filled her in on the conversation and asked for warrants to cover a search on any information the man provided. He asked about the charges against Sterling and Claire said she’d get back to him.
***
Andrew looked at the young public defender and smiled thinking he was just a kid and would be easily manipulated. He watched as the ’boy’ opened his briefcase and took out his notepad.
“When did you graduate?” Andrew asked.
The attorney blushed. “I know my job, Mr. Davies. Why don’t we get down to business.”
“Okay.” Andrew folded his hands on the table and waited.
After a moment of silence, the attorney cleared his throat and spoke. “I’ve gone over your case and think your best defense would be insanity.”
“Not temporary insanity?” Andrew smirked.
“Hard to plea temporary when the killings your charged with go on for over a year’s time and took meticulous planning.”
“So, you agree I’m not insane.”
“No. I think your crazy as a loon. I’m just trying to save you from the death penalty.”
“I might as well tell you now, I won’t plea insanity. What I was doing was for the people’s own good. I did what was necessary. They couldn’t do what was needed for their family anymore than I could. They were too close. Some had no one to even care. I showed true mercy.”
“Really? What about the nurse, the tech? What about Dr. Adams?”
“They were collateral damage. Not intended. Every great mission causes some innocents to suffer. It’s for the greater good. They did not die in vain.” Andrew hit the table to emphasize his words.
“You can’t say that about Dr. Adams.”
“No, I can’t. I’m afraid I lost my temper. She impuned my mother, and everyone has the right to defend their mother’s honor.”
“Not by killing.”
“I lost my temper,” Andrew repeated.
“Be that as it may, insanity is your best defense. We can claim that the death of your mother and brother so close together caused a mental breakdown. Furthermore...”
“No.”
“But...”
“I said no.”
“Mr. Davies, I am looking out for your best interests.”
“The hell you are,” Andrew snarled. “Your looking to make a name for yourself. You don’t give a damn about me or what I was trying to do.”
“Mr. Davies...Andrew...I do care. I think you need help and no one is helped by going to the electric chair,” Calvin said his earnest face glowed with passion.
“Maybe I’ll choose lethal injection if I’m convicted. I do get a choice you know.” Andrew smiled.
“How can you joke about that? You’re only confirming my belief of your mental status.”
“You’re fired.”
Chapter 35
“How are you doing?” Glory asked.
“As good as can be expected,” Casey replied. “I gotta get out of here. They’re driving me nuts. If it wasn’t for the cute lab guy it would be a total loss.”
“My lord, Casey. You have a one track mind.” Glory laughed. Looking at Casey’s open and smiling face was a relief. Guess she’s tougher than I thought. Mercy’s attack caused some cardiac arrythmias and the fall resulted in a severe concussion. Thank God she would be alright.
“Oh, I have something else on my mind...like how I would like to taser that creep’s balls. When this is all over, do you think they’d let me pull the switch?” Casey almost looked serious.
“I better keep an eye on you.” Glory laughed. “But, to be honest, I’d help.”
“I’m just blowing off steam. Mercy’s made me a celebrity and I intend to cash in on it. Quite a few guys have been in to check on me. I like it.”
The doctor walked in and after a brief check, informed Casey she could go home. With a squeal, Casey jumped out of bed and hugged the laughing physician. “Thanks, Doc.”
“We’ll miss you around here. Take care and don’t try to do too much. The dizziness can come and go a while longer.”
“Sure, Doc. My mom’s picking me up. She’s gonna stay a few days to help if I need it.” Casey looked at Glory. “Can I have my job back?”
“Sure. Melissa says anytime you’re ready. She’ll keep your chair warm for you.”
“Fab.”
“And no drinking for awhile,” the doctor said as he left.
“Ah, Doc. You’re a buzzkill,” Casey yelled out the door.
***
Claire was waiting at his desk with a deal for Otis. Probation in return for his information, but only if it led to conviction. Otis agreed and the papers were signed. Claire left and Hank escorted Otis to the interrogation rooms.
Once Otis started talking, Hank got everything the man ever knew. He rambled, but Hank was able to get what he needed. Turns out Otis lived in the same building and just happened to see Mercy leave in his last disguise. Watching the news at his favorite bar and seeing the now famous chase, Otis knew he had a ’get out of jail free’ card.
Hank and Browder took the warrant and headed to the apartment. There they found the nicely labeled boxes containing each costume. The lists were in a notebook and each victim had the “release date” written in next to the name.
“We got this sucker cold,” Browder said.
Chapter 36
“This is going to take forever,” Claire groaned. “He’s fired every attorney for one reason or another. Now he says he’s going to defend himself. The whole thing is turning into a circus.” Claire sat down on her couch and slipped off her shoes, sighing with relief.
“You’re getting a taste of what I’ve been through catching this guy. But with the evidence we got, it should be a slam dunk.” Hank walked over and stood behind Claire. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pressed down and rubbed.
“Oh, lordy, does that feel good. Almost as good as sex.” Claire sighed.
“Almost.”
“I’m too tired to cook. Mind if we send out for pizza?” Claire asked.
“I already ordered it. Hawaiian for you and everything for me.”
“You’re perfect.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes with Claire enjoying massage and Hank wondering just how he was going to tell this woman he loved her when she was actually able to hear him. And just what would he say if she didn’t feel the same? Coward, he thought.
The doorbell rang so Hank got up and paid for the pizza. He was going to take it into the kitchen to get plates when Claire said, “don’t bother.”
The evening passed with small talk and pizza. Hank never said the words.
***
Glory put the finishing touches on all the autopsy results from the Mercy killer’s victims. The known count from his notebook was at 44 and she knew there could be more.
“We may never know the total number,” Glory muttered as Casey walked in the door. “How does it feel to be back?” she asked.
“Real good. My apartment walls were closing in, and I love my mother, you know, but she was driving me crazy.”
“She almost lost her daughter,” Glory reminded Casey. “Every mother would be the same.”
“I know, I know. But, it’s hard to get back into the swing of things when you know your mother is waiting up for you.” Casey shrugged.
Glory laughed. She was learning to appreciate Casey. “Send these over to the prosecutor’s office. I need some lunch. See you after.”
Casey grabbed the envelope, nodded and left.
Glory picked up her purse and headed out to meet Claire. At the restaurant, they took a back booth that permitted them some privacy. Glory went over the important points in the autopsies and they discussed the toxin used.
“Enough,” Claire said, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore or I think my head will explode.”
“The trial date set?”
“Yeah. Three weeks from tomorrow. I’ll be so glad when this is over. I have no life since this was dumped on my desk,” Claire complained. “You know that creep had the nerve to demand one of his costumes to wear to court...the gentleman caller...he called it. Hank picked it up from the evidence locker.”
“Maybe he should’ve asked for the ’little old lady’. Might make the jury more sympathetic,” Glory quipped.
“Yeah, right.” Claire quieted for a moment then looked up at Glory. “I’ve hardly seen Hank the last few weeks.”
“Sounds like you miss him.” Glory said staring down at her dessert.
“Yeah, I do.”
“I don’t recall any previous relationships lasting near this long.” Glory took a bite.
“You keeping track?”
“No, not really.”
“Well, get off the horse ’cause I could say the same of you and Aaron,” Claire said pointing her fork at Glory.
“I know. Nice isn’t it?” Glory smiled.
“You getting serious/”
“Maybe.”
“Have you said the L word?”
“No.”
“Has he?”
“No. What about you.”
“You know me. Can’t.” Claire looked down at her clenched hands.
“Has Hank?”
“He said it when he thought I was sleeping.”
“Claire...do you love him?” Glory asked pointblank.
“I think so.”
“Well then, say something.”
“I haven’t told him about my past, yet. I can’t say anything until he knows.” Claire leaned back and sighed.
“It won’t matter to him.”
“I hope your right.”
Chapter 37
Demonstrations were going on outside the courthouse. Some protesting the death penalty, some demanding it. Some supporting euthanasia, others calling it murder. Truth is pick your cause, and you can start a demonstration, Hank thought.
The courtroom was packed. Every news organization sent reporters. The judge already banned cameras and gave a stern warning about any misconduct or interruptions to the proceedings. Hank sat in the first row behind the banister where he could see Claire. She looked professional and beautiful. She looked confident. His chest swelled with pride.
The side doors opened and Andrew Davies walked in accompanied by two officers. ’Mercy” was dressed in his best gray ’gentleman’ suit and shiny black dress shoes. Hank sighed when he thought about how insistent Andrew had been about which suit and which shoes he wanted to wear, saying ’clothes made the man’. Hank could understand since Andrew was the master of appearances. He couldn’t believe the number of different prosthetics Andrew collected with his disguises; noses, cheeks, ears, and even lips. Colored contacts changed eye color. Wigs from bald to gray. No wonder it took us so long, he thought.
The proceedings were starting and the crowd became silent. Claire stood and faced the jury.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you were selected for this case because you showed the ability to render a verdict based on the evidence and not on your personal biases. During this trial you will hear a frightening tale of a man, who with careful and meticulous planning, murdered at least 44 persons. These were individuals he did not know, but people he judged needed to be put out of their misery. He put himself in the role of judge, jury and executioner. Did he ask for their permission? No. Did he speak with their loved ones? No. Did he have any moral or legal right to do what he did? No.
“Along with his ’mercy killings’, we must include three people he considered ’collateral damage’. One a nurse who spent her life helping others. One a lab technician who was just doing his job. One, a psychologist whose only offense was to make him angry.
“This is a man with no remorse. Who considers himself a man with a ’noble mission’. How can any society survive with such a man as this. We must follow the law. It’s what separates us from the beasts. And believe me, ladies and gentleman, he is a beast.”
Claire sat down and the court was silent.
“I understand you are representing yourself,” the judge said. “I must once again caution you to have legal representation. Your life is on the line here.”
“I understand, your honor,” Andrew said. “I will represent myself.”
“Very well. Do you have an opening statement?”
“Yes, your honor.” Andrew stood and walked towards the jury box. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Andrew looked at each one, “have you ever lost a loved one? Have you ever watched a loved one disintegrate before your eyes? Watched as the person you knew and loved faded, the light in their eyes going dark, their face slacken, each breath a gasp, a fight for life. Have you ever said to yourself, ’not me’?
“We call ourselves a just and humane society. We have organizations to prevent cruelty to animals and these societies all practice euthanasia for the sick and suffering. Yet, our compassion for our animals does not extend to each other.
“Pain and suffering serve no purpose. Why would we allow them to continue when we could ease them. I understand that loved ones can’t always make the necessary decisions or take the necessary actions. They are drained both emotionally and financially. I help. I relieve the pain. I stop the suffering. I give them back their dignity. I allow the families to get on with their lives. What I did was for the benefit of all.”
“Not my Mom,” yelled a young teen jumping to his feet. “You killed her. She spent her whole life helping folks and you killed her without a thought. With no reason. My sister goes to bed every night still crying for our mom. How does that fit into your noble mission?”
The judge beat his gavel and sent the bailiff to remove the boy. The bailiff tussled with the boy a moment before the boy’s father stood and took his son by the other arm. The two men escorted the teen out of the courtroom as he continued to cry, “You killed her.”
The judge beat his gavel again. “Any further outbursts and the courtroom will be cleared. Am I clear?” Silence fell.
Andrew looked pale as his head dropped forward. He slumped for a moment, took a deep breath and straightened.
“You may not believe me, but I grieve for the innocents who died. That was never my intent.
“Someday you will all remember this and perhaps, on that day, society will grow to understand. I know this change will not help me today, but I have had my say.”
Hank watched as Andrew walked back to his table. He saw him lean down and for some reason, he knew this was it. Something was going to happen. When he stood up, he saw Andrew slide open the heal of his right shoe and take out a swab.
“Stop,” Hank yelled as he moved forward.
Andrew stood and faced Hank holding the swab up. “You don’t want to get too close, Lieutenant.”
“Don’t do this,” Hank said. “Put it down.”
“Sorry, won’t do that. I knew this day would come and I prepared for it. I chose.” Andrew smiled. “That’s what everyone should be able to do. Choose.”
With that, Andrew swabbed his neck with a triumphant smile.
The courtroom gasped
Andrew stood there smiling for a moment, then the smile faded. Confused, he looked at the swab then back at Hank. Shock registered.
Dangling from Hank’s hand was a plastic baggy, complete with the swab.
Epilogue
Hank and Claire sat at Murphy’s sipping their drinks.
“Damn good work, counselor,” Hank muttered.
“Yeah,” Claire agreed. “Guilty on all counts. Couldn’t happen to a better creep. Sure was a good thing you checked the shoes. It might all have ended different.”
“Yeah. I’m good. I knew he had something up his sleeve. He was always so cocky.”
Glory walked over and sat down. “Congrats,” she said.
“Is Aaron coming?” Claire asked.
“He’ll be a little late. Still working,” Glory said. “Sentencing tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Even with the death penalty, he’s getting off easy,” Glory said.
“He’ll be dead. How’s that easy,” Hank said with a snort.
“Like I said...easy.”
“Not where he’s going,” Claire said.
“Amen,” the three chorused and lifted their glasses.
“Answer me a question,” Glory said.
“Sure. Shoot.” Hank took a deep pull on his beer.
“What do you think about euthanasia?”
Hank paused for a moment. “Ya know, people always push things beyond what was intended. If we give them the right to die, it’ll became the duty to die. I don’t want to start the slide down that rabbit hole.”
Hank’s cell phone buzzed. He looked at the text and sighed.
“Sorry girls. Gotta body. Talk to you later.” After kissing Claire, he left.
“A detective’s work is never done,” Glory said holding up her glass again.
With another toast, the friends finished their drinks.
“