Girl Undercover 4 & 5: Ariel & Financial Devil

by Julia Derek

  Well, since I had already traveled all the way to Philadelphia, I might as well head to the hospital Hutchkins had taken her to and see if I could find someone who could verify that he had been there with his mother all night. It was no way near as smooth a solution as talking to the old woman, but it was better than nothing. As I kept searching for hospital workers, I’d keep calling Mrs. Hutchkins to see if she was back home and I could have a chat with her at last.

  I found another cab that took me to the emergency room at Pennsylvania Hospital. When I got out, I walked up to the long triage desk, grateful to see there weren’t many people in the waiting room at the moment. It shouldn’t take me too long to find someone who knew Mrs. Hutchkins and was aware what had happened to her. I would begin with the current triage nurse, a ruddy-faced woman with gray hair that reminded me of steel wool.

  “Excuse me,” I said as I went up to her desk. She was writing something on a pad and looked up, revealing eyes as steely gray as her hair.

  “Yes, how may I help you?” she asked in a voice that seemed too young for her face.

  “Hi, my name is Lisa Jones and I’m helping out a woman who was given X rays here for her ankle last week and put on crutches. Her name is Martha Hutchkins. She thinks she lost her wedding ring when she had her X rays taken. Her son thinks so too, but he lives in New York, so he sent me.”

  The woman behind the desk looked at me like I had a screw loose.

  “Why would she have lost her wedding ring if she had X rays taken for her leg? She would not be required to take off a ring for a lower extremity exposure.”

  This nurse was clearly no dummy. I was glad I hadn’t gone with the other option I had in mind—flashing my LAPD badge and telling her I was a detective with the Philly police department investigating a crime regarding Mrs. Hutchkins and her son. Surely, this woman would have asked to take a closer look at my badge and immediately noticed it was an LAPD one.

  I smiled understanding and shrugged. “Yes, I know that, but Mrs. Hutchkins is a bit of a psychosomatic. She’s convinced having any metal on her body while having X rays taken would be harmful for her, so she insisted on taking it off. And then she misplaced it and asked me to go over here and ask around if anyone has seen it.”

  “I haven’t heard anything about a wedding ring being found. What day was she here?”

  “Last Thursday. From around eight p.m. till around one in the morning.”

  “I was off that day. I can refer you to the nurse on duty that night.”

  The smile on my lips grew. Perfect. “That would be so nice. Anyone who worked that night would be great to talk to. Maybe one of the nurses or the technician who did the X ray know something.”

  The nurse opened a big appointment book and checked something on a page, then looked back to me. “Robert and Nancy are both working today. That’s our in-house radiologist and the nurse who helps him. They were both working Thursday night and took care of a Martha Hutchkins. I’ll ask them if they’ve found anything. It might take a while before I get hold of them though, so please take a seat.”

  She pointed to a row of ugly orange chairs lined up against a wall where there were already a few people seated.

  “That would be great,” I replied. “Thank you.”

  I went over to sit on one of those chairs, though I had no plans staying there for very long. Instead, I would go look for a nurse named Nancy. It was a fairly common name, but I still doubted there was more than one nurse employed here with that name who’d also worked Thursday night.

  Sitting down and picking up a magazine on a nearby table, I waited for the triage nurse to get back to whatever she had been doing. She had yet to lift a phone to call someone to ask for Robert and Nancy, so she was clearly not in a hurry to find them for me. Out of the corner of my eye, I checked out the double doors at the other end of the room that kept opening and closing as scrub-clad hospital staff passed through them. It must be the area where all the medical staff and patients were. Unfortunately, it looked like the only way to get in there was if you swiped a card against a box on the wall. I would need to find a way to slip through while others did. I noticed that the doors stayed open a few seconds after people went through, so if I hung around close to them, I should manage to get inside before they shut again.

  If someone asked what I was doing there, I’d tell them I was looking for Nurse Nancy because I needed to give her a small package that had to be hand delivered. Wearing my glasses and professional clothes, not to mention being a woman, I looked like someone you could trust, so hopefully the person asking wouldn’t mistake me for some kind of a terrorist.

  Keeping careful track of what the unhelpful triage nurse was doing, I snuck over to the double doors. Getting through them was surprisingly easy, taking me only a couple of minutes of waiting. As I walked along a long, wide corridor, I wasn’t too worried that someone would come up to me as busy as everyone appeared to be, running back and forth with determined looks on their faces. Now I just needed to find someone I could ask about Nancy. Women of varying ages dressed in blue scrubs rushed past me. Was one of them Nancy? I tried to make eye contact with several, but it was difficult; they literally didn’t appear to see me.

  I definitely preferred talking to Nancy over Robert, the radiologist, thinking that she would be not only more forthcoming and friendly, but also the person who was more likely to have dealt with Mrs. Hutchkins and her son. Surely she would remember if Charles had been with his mom all night. I could only imagine a doctor would have been too distracted to pay attention to such details.

  Unfortunately, everyone I saw kept ignoring me; clearly no one at this hospital was worried about dangerous trespassers. Still, I didn’t want to just grab someone to ask them about Nancy. Subtlety was always better and I was in no rush. I walked up another floor, hoping for better luck up there as well as friendlier faces.

  The second floor of the hospital was empty of people, which wasn’t good either. I felt like I had entered another building altogether, unrelated to Pennsylvania Hospital. Gazing ahead, I noted that it looked like there was a stairway at the other end of the long, quiet corridor. I decided to walk over there and then go back down to the first floor. It was a small hospital with only two floors.

  As I had almost reached the other end, a stocky man in scrubs and a stethoscope hanging around his neck exited a room. He just had to be a doctor. He smiled at me as our eyes met, so I smiled back and decided to ask him if he knew Nancy or, if not, Robert.

  “Hi,” I began, “can I ask you a question?”

  He stopped. “Sure.”

  “I’m looking for a nurse called Nancy. She’s supposed to be working today. I have a delivery for her.”

  “Nancy Modine? She’s in the cafeteria eating dinner. If you give it to me, I’ll give it to her. I’m about to go down there.”

  “Um, I’d rather give it to her myself.”

  The expression on the doctor’s pleasant face lost some of its friendly luster and he gave me a long, penetrating look. “Are you a friend of Nancy’s?”

  “No, I’m just the delivery person.”

  “The delivery person?” His eyes went to my chest area, as though he was searching for something there. “Who let you inside without a ‘visitor’ sticker?”

  “Um, the person who sat behind the triage desk said it was fine if I just walked inside and asked for Nancy,” I lied, doing everything in my power to keep my face from going red, revealing my blatant lie. I think I succeeded because the doctor merely nodded and said, “Let me walk you to the cafeteria and I’ll show you Nancy.”

  Not that that was much better, of course. How would I get rid of him now?

  For now, there wasn’t much I could do but to walk with him as he started to walk toward the stairs I had been heading for.

  “What’s your name?” he asked in a neutral voice.

  “Lisa Jones. And you?”

  “Robert Ostrosky.”

  Could this be Robert
, the radiologist?

  “Are you a radiologist?” I ventured.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “Is it that obvious?”

  I sensed that an opening too good not to take advantage of had opened. I gave him a playful little smile in return. “Well, it depends on what you mean by obvious. I have a friend who was a patient here recently and had X rays done by an extremely handsome doctor named Robert. I figured that had to be you since you’re very handsome and you’re a radiologist.”

  I was lying my ass off because only someone who was very nearsighted would ever describe the man walking next to me as handsome. He was at best average with his chunky body, oily skin, bulbous nose and balding head. But flattery always worked and it seemed it did so once again judging from the big smile Dr. Ostrosky gave me now.

  “Well, I am the only Robert here who does X rays, so, yes, maybe your friend was referring to me then…” It was cute the way his cheeks got a little pink and I was suddenly feeling a little guilty for giving him false flattery. I threw a discreet glance toward his ring finger and noted that it was bare. He was probably single then.

  “Who’s your friend?” he asked.

  “She’s an older woman who clearly has really good taste,” I replied, not about to stop now that I had him on the hook. I wasn’t feeling that guilty. “She was here last Thursday night with her son. I’m a friend of the son. He told me he worried she had broken her ankle, so he took her to the emergency room here to have X rays taken. Do you remember them?”

  The doctor looked pensive, then lit up. “I do remember them. A Mrs. Hutchkins, correct?”

  “Yes, she was here with her son. The son happens to be my boyfriend. It was so nice of him to stay with his mother all evening to make sure she was taken care of.”

  Dr. Ostrosky turned to look at me, a tense expression on his features suddenly. “The son is your boyfriend?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, it’s just that he’s a handful is all.”

  I pretended to be distraught. “Oh, no, what did he do now? I know he can be a bit… moody.”

  The doctor gave a wry little grin. “Pugnacious would be a better way to put it. He just couldn’t get it in his head that there are certain patients that are given preference over others at an emergency room. His mother wasn’t near death like some of the people who arrived after her and needed to be taken care of immediately. But you’re right; he was adamant about his mother getting care as quickly as possible. He didn’t leave her side until it was time to pay the bill.”

  “So he was here all night then?”

  “Yes, it took several hours before we could fit in his mother at last.” He stopped before a door. “Here we are. Nancy should be in here still.” He opened the door.

  “Is there a restroom somewhere around here?” I asked. “I need to make a quick visit.”

  “Sure, right down the hall.” He raised his finger and indicated a door right at the end of the hallway we were standing in. “Do you see it?”

  “Thanks,” I said and smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

  “No worries. Take your time. I’ll tell Nancy you’re coming.”

  “Great.” I walked down the hallway in the direction of the door he had referred to while he disappeared into the cafeteria. But instead of going into the restroom, I continued around the corner. Now all I needed to do was get the hell out of the hospital as quickly as possible.

  I was back at the main train station in Philly half an hour later, climbing on board the Amtrak express train that would take me back to New York City. It was with bittersweet sentiments that I found an available window seat where I could stare out at the rapidly moving landscape until I reached Grand Central Station in Manhattan.

  On the one hand, I was pleased that I had managed to determine that, apparently, Charles Hutchkins’ alibi for the night of Ariel’s murder was water-tight after all, despite him being so belligerent and unstable. On the other, I was disappointed to have realized that her murderer was still out there. With Janine Eastwood out of the picture, I really had no idea who it could be. Maybe the killer would strike again.

  It wasn’t until I had almost reached my apartment building on the Upper West Side hours later that I saw I had a text in my phone from Ian. It had arrived hours earlier, probably right during my little stroll with Dr. Robert Ostrosky.

  Did you see the news yet? it said. A man just confessed to Ariel’s murder. From the gym. Check Channel One.

  Chapter 8

  Not bothering to wait for the elevator, I rushed up the stairs and into my apartment, throwing my purse on the ground. Like a madwoman, I searched for the remote control to my TV so I could turn it on. I couldn’t wait to see who had confessed to Ariel’s murder. Was it a member I knew? Someone in the business office? One of the trainers?

  I found the remote and sank down on my couch, putting my feet up on the coffee table before me as I waited for it to become eleven p.m. Channel One always updated viewers on the latest local news every hour on the hour. It being twenty to eleven, I had some time to kill, so I called Ian. It didn’t take long for him to pick up.

  “Did you see it yet?” he asked by way of greeting. “The cleaning guy?”

  “What are you talking about? One of the cleaning guys killed her?”

  “Supposedly. Paco Rodriguez, one of the maintenance guys at Nikkei, confessed to killing Ariel a few hours ago.”

  My feet left the table and I sat up tall. “Wait, what? Paco Rodriguez? ” Oh, God, don’t let it be the Paco I knew and liked so much… There were dozens of maintenance people working at the club and for all I knew, more than one could be named Paco as the vast majority of them were from a Latin country. “What does he look like? Did they say how old he is?”

  “Yeah, he’s forty-two. His mugshot was featured. He’s pretty ugly with thin, black hair and a receding hairline. He also had the biggest unibrow I’ve ever seen on a person. There were some footage when he was taken away in handcuffs. I didn’t get a great look, but he looked to be on the taller side and skinny. You know who it is?”

  My heart sank. It was Paco then… I didn’t want him to be Ariel’s murderer. “I only know of one Paco who works with the maintenance crew at the club and from what you just described, it must be him.” I exhaled with sadness. “This is so upsetting. I can’t believe he would ever attack and strangle Ariel. He’s such a sweet and easygoing man. How did he go about confessing?”

  “According to the news, he just went to a police station on the Upper West Side and confessed to the crime. Apparently, his conscience had become too much for him.” Ian uttered that last sentence with sarcasm, as though he didn’t buy it for a second.

  I tried to picture Paco and Ariel together. Had I ever seen them interact? I didn’t think so at first, but then a couple of instances did pop into my mind. The two of them had in fact been in contact. Once Ariel had told Paco that the restroom on the fourth floor needed some touching up and another time I remembered Paco helping Ariel put a hook in her locker. As far I could remember, Ariel had even spoken Spanish to Paco both times, and fairly fluent Spanish at that. Still, that was it. I couldn’t think of another scenario during which he or she had appeared even remotely combative or antagonistic toward the other. So why would he want to kill her?

  “I’m in total shock still,” I told Ian. “This is so crazy. Did he give a motive?”

  “According to the anchor on Channel One, he was in love with her and she kept rejecting his advances. Did you ever see anything that supports this claim?”

  “Not really. Nothing about the few times I saw them interact suggests Paco had feelings for her.” Then I thought of how he’d put that hook into her locker once more. I couldn’t remember him having mounted any hooks for other trainers. “Of course, he did screw a hook into her locker so she could hang stuff from it. I’m not aware of him ever having done something similar for anyone else… Then again, it’s not like I was paying attention to
everything he was doing. He might have helped out other trainers when I wasn’t around. He sure was always very nice to me, so I can only imagine he was the same way to everyone else.”

  “It’s fascinating how quickly the reporters found out about Paco’s confession, isn’t it?” Again, Ian used that sarcastic tone of voice.

  “I’m not sure what you’re referring to. What’s so fascinating about it? Are you saying that his confession has yet to be stated in a police report?”

  “Smart girl—that’s exactly what I’m saying. Someone in the media found out about Paco confessing to the crime before the detectives at the NYPD could file a report about it. It tells me at least one person at the NYPD is involved in the conspiracy.”

  Oh, God, here we go again. “Uh-huh,” I said just to say something.

  “And I’ll bet ya the governor of New York is also involved.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because the governor of New York is the only person who can pardon Rodriguez from the life in prison without parole term he’s sure to receive when convicted.”

  I laughed. “I didn’t realize you were psychic. How can you know with such certainty that he’ll get life without parole if convicted? Maybe he’ll plead insanity or mental illness. If the latter and he’s found guilty, he’d most likely be institutionalized for life. I doubt the governor would be able to get him out to mingle with sane people if that’s the case.”

  “For that very reason I can almost guarantee you his lawyers won’t use that tactic. Adler and their co-conspirators must have offered the man lots of money in exchange for a confession and a pardon in a few years. Where does his family live? Here in America?”

  “I’m not sure. Wait, no, someone did tell me they’re all back in Nicaragua and that he plans on going back there in a few years. One of the other cleaning guys who speaks good English.”

  I could literally hear Ian’s face brightening over the phone line. “There you go. So the money will go to help his family get a better life. A sum like a million dollars will allow them to live like royalty in a poor country in Central America. Then, when he’s pardoned, he’ll join them. This is the only thing that makes sense. Unless you think he actually did it. Do you?”