"Maybe," her partner agreed.
Finally the doctor let out a long, unsteady breath and began talking. "Norman Washburn didn't just handle the occasional abortion, he also delivered his own kids."
Jasi was shocked. "What?"
"Norman brought in a prostitute one night," Gibney said flatly. "In August of 1979. The woman was in labor, full-term. I overheard her threatening to expose Norman."
"Expose him for what?" Ben asked bluntly.
"Norman had paid for her services―more than once. He was the father."
Jasi stood up suddenly and paced the room.
"Washburn couldn't deal with another scandal," she said. "So what did he do―deliver the baby?"
"Ba-bies," Gibney corrected.
Babies?
Jasi was stunned.
Somewhere out there, Washburn had more children.
Allan Baker had siblings.
"How many?" she asked.
Martin Gibney held up two fingers.
Ben leaned forward, pulled off a glove and grabbed the man's arm. "So let me get this straight. Norman Washburn slept with a prostitute, got her pregnant and delivered his own kids in the basement of the hospital?"
Gibney nodded. "He didn't want anyone to find out. Especially the board or his wife."
"So what happened to the mother and the babies?" Jasi asked.
"Norman took care of them," Gibney mumbled grimly.
"Wait a minute." Motioning Ben aside, she whispered, "In Natassia's vision, she saw the mother's eyes."
"Yeah?"
"Were they open or closed?"
"I don't know," Ben admitted.
Jasi punched in Natassia's data-com link.
"Wide open," Natassia replied. "But unmoving."
Jasi broke communication. "Ben? The mother's eyes were wide open. I think she was dead."
Gibney groaned loudly, then rested his head in his hands. "Norman killed her."
"Why would you think that?" Jasi demanded, lingering beside the man.
"Right after the twins were born, Norman told me to get a bag of AB blood for the mother. When I returned about fifteen minutes later, the woman was dead." Gibney's voice was flat and lifeless.
"I don't see―"
"I saw something wrapped in a towel," he interrupted. "The placenta. Norman refused to let me examine it."
Ben glided around the side of the table. "So, what exactly are you saying?"
Gibney dragged in a deep breath. "I'm saying that Norman ripped the placenta out of the mother. He knew what he was doing. He knew his actions would result in a postpartum hemorrhage."
"And he didn't want you to see what he had done," Ben guessed. "That's why he wouldn't show you the placenta. You would know that he had committed murder. But you already knew. You guessed, didn't you?"
Martin Gibney cowered guiltily.
Jasi bent over him, bracing herself on the arms of his chair. "Washburn intentionally made the mother bleed to death so that she wouldn't expose him. What happened to her body?"
The man looked up apprehensively. "I don't know. Norman got rid of it."
"We need to find out who this woman was," Jasi said to Ben. "Someone is out to avenge her death. Maybe her pimp, a boyfriend―someone."
Gibney shook his head grimly. "Norman refused to have any record of her existence. By the time I realized what had happened, I was in way over my head. It was too late to do anything about the mother…or the babies."
Ben cleared his throat. "We need to search hospital records and newspapers. The babies would have needed medical attention."
"Unless Washburn killed them too," Jasi murmured.
Martin Gibney looked like he was going to vomit.
"No, Norman found them a home," he argued.
Ben's eyes lit up suddenly. "Charlotte Foreman got them somehow."
Gibney nodded slowly. "Norman insisted that Charlotte Foreman get those kids…the twins. He wanted her to keep them out of his way―make sure they never went looking for him. Norman wrote her a glowing recommendation."
Jasi was appalled. "Why would he do that? She abused those kids."
The man's head jerked up sharply. "What?"
"How do you think Allan Baker's hands were scarred?"
"He told me a gang of boys burned him on a pipe," Gibney said nervously.
Ben glared contemptuously. "Actually his foster mother held them on the stove burner."
"My God!" Gibney sputtered. "I thought those boys were just accident prone. You know, boys being boys and all that."
"Boys?" Jasi questioned sharply.
"Yeah. Allan and the twin. Mrs. Foreman brought them in at different times. I treated them both for minor burns and broken bones."
"Jesus!" she whispered in disbelief.
"Tell us about the other boy," Ben demanded, his eyes snapping with barely controlled fury.
"Well," Gibney began slowly. "Uh, TJ, I think his name was, he came in with a few broken bones. He broke his arm twice in one summer. Climbing trees, he told me."
The man's eyes grew hazy with guilt. "One time, I treated Ronnie, the sister, for burns to her arm. She told me it was from a curling iron but I admit, I did wonder what a six-year-old was doing curling her hair with a hot iron."
Jasi glared at him coldly. "So two boys and a girl were brutally abused by Charlotte Foreman, and you didn't report it."
She leaned closer so that her face was inches from his. "My, aren't you a hero!"
Gibney recoiled as her sarcasm sliced through the room.
"But I didn't know for sure," he moaned.
"Yeah," Ben scoffed dryly. "A trained professional had no clue."
"I swear to God! The foster mother and the kids told the same stories. Even if I suspected something―"
"It was your duty to report anything suspicious," Jasi seethed. "Why the hell wouldn't you have done that much for those kids?" She stared at him for a long time.
Gibney slumped in his chair, deflated. His bloodshot eyes flooded with guilt and a shameful tear trickled down one cheek.
In a small voice he said, "I didn't want my own past to be exposed. She would have told everyone what we had done to her."
Ben bolted from his seat. "What do you mean?"
"She came to us, before she was married. Said she was too young to have a baby."
Jasi gasped. "Charlotte Foreman's medical file stated she couldn't have children. There was extreme scarring of her uterus―a botched abortion."
"We performed the abortion on her," Gibney confessed. "But something went wrong. Norman had been drinking and when we were done, we realized she'd never be able to conceive. She had us both by the balls, after that."
Jasi fervently wished that she could grab those balls and―
"So you didn't report her abuse because you knew she'd report yours?" Ben hissed. "Instead, you allowed her to continuously abuse those kids. So much for your Hippocratic Oath to do no harm."
Gibney dropped his head. He rocked slowly in his chair, both hands covering his face.
"It's over," he moaned.
"It's not over until we find the sick son-of-a-bitch who's responsible for three deaths," Jasi reminded him. "Oh, and Gibney? Don't go anywhere."
Martin Gibney's eyes widened with shock. "Agent McLellan! I did not kill anyone! I never wanted this to come out. I wanted Norman to resign…step down."
Jasi glared at the man. "You know anyone else who wanted Dr. Washburn dead?"
"I've told you everything―everything I know. I may be…many things, but I-I am not a murderer. I swear to you, both of you. I did not kill Mrs. Foreman and that little girl. And I did not kill Norman Washburn."
"You're free to go," she said scornfully to Gibney. "Just don't go far. We'll be checking out your story."
The man stumbled from the lounge with a nervous twitch over his shoulder. Red-faced, he lifted his chin proudly and made for his office.
Motioning Ben to follow, Jasi hurried from the hospital.
"What did you get from him?" she asked.
Ben's lip curled in disgust.
"He's telling the truth, Jasi. He feels immense guilt and shame. But the only blood on his hands comes from his involvement with the underground abortion clinic. Martin Gibney's no serial killer."
Stepping outside the hospital doors, they passed a young mother and father smiling proudly at their newborn son.
"Tell that to the Pro-Lifers," Jasi muttered.
It was after eight o'clock when she opened the door to her hotel room. Ben hovered outside the doorway. He was finishing a report on Gibney.
"I'll send it to Ops right away," he stated, remaining in the hall.
Jasi nodded and then entered the room.
Brandon and Natassia were still sifting through the crime scene files. Brandon looked up from the table and she could see the relief in his eyes. He had been worried about her. How strange.
She recalled Ben's words.
He's a good man. He won't betray you.
"Well?" Brandon asked, his voice tinged with hope.
"Washburn killed a prostitute after she gave birth to twins―his!" Jasi said abruptly. "He and Gibney were also responsible for Charlotte Foreman's botched abortion. She blackmailed them and used Gibney for her family GP. That way, she could hide the child abuse and neither doctor could report her."
Brandon's pale eyes searched hers. "Maybe Gibney's who we're after?"
Jasi shook her head. "He wanted Washburn to disappear, but he wanted him to go quietly."
"Plus Gibney's got an alibi. A room full of board members," Ben added, stepping into the room behind her.
The tension in the hotel room mounted. Thick and pervasive, it brought the entire investigation to a crashing halt. The four of them stood there, staring at each other.
Their list of suspects had just self-destructed.
The case was ice cold.
"Damn!" Jasi muttered, frustrated.
She grabbed a pop from the bar fridge and dropped into a chair. Then she stretched her head over the chair back.
"Natassia!" she called. "Got anything on the yellow fabric yet?"
Her partner's face beamed. "They just found it under the pilot's seat. It's been logged in and scheduled for testing. The ev-tech on duty promised we'd have the report first thing in the morning."
Jasi ordered up Washburn's file on the vid-wall.
Her vision at the cabin had proved that the doctor somehow knew the killer. Or the killer knew him…
"We've been acting on the assumption that Washburn knew his killer but didn't recognize him because of the mask," she said as a trickle of excitement slithered up her spine. "What if Washburn didn't really know him?"
Ben twisted a chair in one hand then straddled it, backward. "I'm not sure I understand."
"I think the killer is someone from Washburn's past. Someone Washburn hadn't seen in years. In your dream, Natassia, the abortion was key. And the babies in the incubators."
Jasi beckoned to Brandon with one hand. "Give me some ideas."
Brandon stretched his legs in front of him, crossed them at the ankles. "What if Natassia was seeing the birth of the twins? Not an abortion. Maybe the boy from Natassia's vision is related to the mother, the woman Washburn killed."
"Then the boy would be one of the twins," Natassia exclaimed.
Jasi tried to focus on their conversation but something kept bothering her. What was there about this whole mess that seemed so damned familiar?
"Data-com on!" she barked.
When the familiar welcome screen popped up, she said, "Newspaper search, Kelowna. August 1979, births."
She glanced at Natassia. "I need you to search the birth registries in the area."
While her partner busily hunted through the birth records, Jasi scrolled the headlines. Discovering that there were a substantial amount of listings, she decided to narrow down the field.
What could she add?
Two babies.
"Same parameters, twins," she commanded.
There were two newspaper headlines.
One read, Oil Tycoon Strikes Oil with the Birth of Twins. She quickly read the report but realized that the twins were safe and accounted for. The mother was a well-known lawyer, not a prostitute. And the twins were female.
When Jasi's eyes fell on the second headline, she gasped in shock. The alarm that had been persistently ringing in the back of her mind was now an earth shattering 10.5 on the Richter scale.
Oh, shit!
20
The headline read:
Newborn Twins Found Alive in Dumpster!
August 21, 1979 ~ Victoria, BC
Early this morning, an elderly transient woman discovered two newborn babies in a back alley Dumpster. The twins, a boy and a girl, are alive but severely dehydrated.
Gina McNeil, a homeless woman in her mid-eighties, was walking with two other women near the Ross Bay Cemetery at St. Charles Street and Fairfield Road when she heard the cries.
"She pulled them out of the garbage and wouldn't let anyone near them," one witness stated.
A local storeowner, Sharif Kabar, called the Victoria Police Department after seeing the two infants in McNeil's shopping cart.
"I did not believe my eyes," Kabar said. "The old lady with babies? I knew it was a mistake."
When emergency response teams arrived, the twins were barely conscious, unresponsive and lethargic. Victoria PD confronted McNeil and she handed over the twins, stating that she was on her way to the hospital.
"Gina McNeil climbed into a filthy Dumpster," Officer Dan Wilkins, first officer on the scene, told reporters. "She saved those babies. That makes her a hero in my eyes."
McNeil, the hero of the day, has led police authorities to the Dumpster, where a thin, bloody blanket was recovered. A thorough search of the Dumpster has revealed no other clues at this time. The identification of the newborns remains a mystery.
"We're hoping that the mother will come forward and claim them," Officer Wilkins stated.
The twins have been airlifted to the Children's Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at the Children's Hospital in Vancouver, where they remain in critical condition.
"Hypothermic and hypotonic," ER Dr. James Doucette confirmed. "After being exposed to the elements for about five hours, both babies are suffering from a multitude of symptoms― including decreased heart rate and circulation, dehydration, and they're overwhelmingly septic."
Dr. Doucette went on to say that it would be "miraculous if they survived without brain damage. The babies' prognosis is uncertain but, because of Miss McNeil's valiant and quick response, there is hope for the twins."
Victoria PD is requesting the public's help in locating the mother. She may also require medical attention.
If anyone knows her whereabouts…
Jasi's mind worked quickly, putting together pieces of the puzzle.
Twins in a Dumpster.
Cameron Prescott had told her a similar story. The reporter had also mentioned that she was a Leo. August! There was no doubt in Jasi's mind that Cameron and her brother were the very same twins that Washburn had tried to get rid of.
"I know who the babies are," she mumbled.
Three heads snapped in her direction.
She transferred the newspaper clipping to the vid-wall, then straddled the chair beside Ben. Indicating the screen, she repeated Cameron's story about being abandoned at birth.
"All this time we were focusing on Natassia's vision, we forgot about the money she saw in her hands. And Natassia heard a woman's voice say 'I'll take care of everything'."
She paused, gathering her thoughts. "Washburn tried to get rid of Cameron and her brother by tossing them in the Dumpster. If the Dumpster had made it to the dump, the babies would have died. That's what the good old doctor wanted. To kill them. Dispose of his infidelity."
"But someone found them," Brandon pointed out. "Washburn was afraid the police would get wind of his involvement so he
paid Charlotte Foreman to keep his bastards hidden from the public."
"Yeah, but Norman Washburn was the real bastard," Jasi seethed.
Reading the file on the wall, she smiled bitterly. "He paid the foster mother to keep Cameron and her brother away from some other well-meaning foster parent, someone who might try to discover the identity of the birth parents."
"But Jasi, no one else knew they were Washburn's," Brandon stated.
"Except Gibney," Ben reminded him.
Brandon's head dipped in a nod. "So Gibney obviously knew that Washburn had dumped them and left them to die. He would have read that in the papers. So why didn't Gibney tell you?"
"He's petrified," Ben frowned. "Gibney's already looking at charges of accessory to murder in the death of the prostitute. He didn't want to add two counts accessory to attempted murder for the twins."
Folding her arms across her chest, Jasi listened while pacing the room. Furious, she muttered, "Martin Gibney is just as guilty as Washburn."
"And Charlotte Foreman," she heard Natassia say behind her.
Brandon's blue eyes followed her. "Maybe the brother, Ronald, did it."
Jasi shook her head. "No, Ronald Jones drowned when he was a kid. An accidental death. In the river behind the house."
"What else do we have?"
"We have the twins," she acknowledged. "They're the main connection in both cases. But who would want to kill for them?"
Brandon stared at her, hard. "Ronald is dead, Jasi. That only leaves one other person with motive, means…and opportunity."
Stunned, her head jerked toward him.
"Cameron Prescott?"
"She could be the one we're after," he suggested softly.
"But I sensed a male mind, not female," she protested, dropping onto the bed. "And Natassia saw a young man in a yellow jacket."
Natassia raised her hands, then dropped them in her lap. "I don't know, Jasi."
"She doesn't fit your profile, Ben," she argued, rolling over on her side, one hand propped beneath her head.
Ben shrugged. "Theoretically, Cameron is the perfect suspect. Washburn abandoned her, Foreman abused her and her twin brother drowned while in Charlotte Foreman's care. And the low voice you heard in your vision? You said yourself that her throat had been damaged. Revenge is a deadly thing, Jasi. We can't rule her out."
Divine Trilogy Page 16
