The Diagnosis is Murder (A Dr. Valorian Mystery Book 1)
Page 22
The front doorbell chimed, and the normally inoffensive bell sounded more like a deafening gong reverberating around the hall. Monica shrieked and pointed her pistol at the door. Alec and Laura ducked as the gun popped, sending a bullet right through the peephole.
Near Laura was a vase of flowers that sat on a small table against the wall. As the shot was fired, she lunged forward and down, finding herself bent over the table. She grabbed the vase, stepped forward and swung it against Monica’s head, breaking the vase with a glass-splintering sound. Water and long-stemmed flowers sprayed down the hall and into the living room. Monica fell back onto the floor.
Laura heard a car squeal away down the street.
Alec bent down and eased the gun from Monica’s hand.
“Oh, my goodness.” Laura gawked at Alec, her hand over her chest. “I’ve never been shot at before.”
“Welcome to the club.”
Laura gathered herself, then kneeled and checked Monica’s breathing and pulse and examined her head. “She’s unconscious, and there’s a gash in the left side of her scalp.” Blood oozed onto a rug on the tile floor. Laura ran to the kitchen, grabbed a long cloth rag, and wrapped the rag as a pressure bandage around Monica’s head.
Alec opened the front door. No one was there. He glanced down at the front doorstep. “Look, Laura. Our pepperoni pizza.” He picked up the pizza box and carried it back to the kitchen.
“Call for an ambulance,” Laura said. “I hope she just has a concussion, but it could be worse. She needs medical attention.” Laura grimaced at the large irregular hole in her front door. She covered it with a piece of cardboard from her study.
Alec walked outside and visualized a likely path for the bullet. He crossed the street and approached a huge oak tree. “Sorry, bud,” he said as he inserted his finger into a splintered hole in the trunk. He pulled out his cell phone, called the pizza place, and was assured that the delivery boy was okay, except for being shaken up. Alec promised to make good with the pizza bill.
Laura busied herself checking out the hallway and living room floors. She didn’t look at Alec. About ten minutes after their call to 911, an ambulance with lights flashing screeched to a stop in front of the house. Laura opened the front door, and the paramedics wheeled a stretcher inside. Laura told them what had happened. “She’s been breathing okay, and the pressure bandage has controlled the bleeding.”
Alec chimed in. “Her husband is Stewart Stiles. Please have someone call him when you get to the hospital.”
Laura’s jaw dropped. “She’s the wife of the medical examiner?”
Alec looked down. “Yes.”
Laura sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “Great.” She turned to one of the paramedics. “What hospital are you taking her to?”
“The closest one, here in Alexandria.”
“Were the police contacted?”
“The 911 dispatcher notified the police, so they’ll meet with us in the ER and then probably drop by here to get your report.”
Monica moaned as the paramedics eased her onto a backboard with her neck stabilized, lifted the backboard onto the stretcher, and wheeled the stretcher out to the ambulance.
Laura’s face felt hot as she watched the ambulance leave. She walked into the living room and stood facing the wall, her arms folded.
A faint voice behind her said, “I’m sorry you had to learn about Monica that way.”
“Learn what?”
Alec’s hands were jammed deep into his pants pockets. “I had an affair with Monica.”
Alec stepped back as Laura whirled around. Her voice quivered. “I gathered that much. Did you know who she was?”
“Yes.” He held his hands up, palms forward. “If I have any reasonable defense, it’s this. I was really low. I wasn’t coping well with what happened to my wife and son.” He paced in front of the couch. “Then there was Monica. I’d known her from before, but a few months ago, I felt an attraction to her. At first, I thought it was good for me. I was getting my energy back. I was having fun again.”
“She was, too, evidently.”
“It’s not so much fun anymore, and I want to get out of it.”
Laura’s body trembled. She kicked one of the flowers, smashing it against a wall of the hallway, the petals scattering.
Alec touched her shoulder.
Laura flinched. “I’m going for a walk.” She slammed the front door on her way out.
Alec ran outside after her. “Laura, wait. Please.”
She raised an arm. “Not now, Alec. I’ve got to think.”
“It’s not safe for you out here.”
“Then walk behind me—way behind me.”
Alec caught up with her on the sidewalk after half a block. “Laura—“
She spun around and slapped his face.
Alec winced and stepped back, then grabbed her and hugged her tight. “Listen. I care about you, a lot. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Laura sobbed on his shoulder.
He whispered in her ear. “I’m not giving up.”
Time slowed to a crawl. Laura was a little girl again, her father comforting her after a fall off the monkey bars. It was a nice feeling, having a protector.
Hearing an ambulance in the distance, Laura jumped back to the present. This was Alec embracing her, and she wondered if he could possibly be any different than the other men she’d been interested in. Every one of them had been a big disappointment.
Laura pulled away and walked back to her house—Alec following close behind.
Just inside the front door, he faced her, his hands on her shoulders. “I hope you can learn to trust me again.”
Laura snorted. “That woman’s got a screw loose, you know.”
“I realize that.”
“Does her husband know about the affair?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, he’s got problems of his own.”
“That’s right—Judkins said he’s been ill and off work.” Alec sighed and shook his head. “Look, I really messed up.”
Laura looked away. “It just seems that the men I’m attracted to—”
“I made a huge mistake . . . please give me another chance.”
“Well, I don’t think Dr. Stiles is the murderous type, although he’s a bit weird at times. So, at least you should be around a while to try to make it up to me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I’ll accept that, for now. Here’s your first big chance: warm me up some pizza—I’m starving.”
Alec grinned and marched off to the kitchen.
A short while later, after a few slices of cheesy pizza, Laura caught her breath as the front doorbell rang. This time, she checked first through a pinhole in the cardboard where the peephole used to be. “It’s the police.” She opened the door.
“Hello, Dr. Valorian?” asked a clean-shaven man with muscular arms and brown hair in a buzz cut. He stood several feet away from the door.
“Yes?”
“I have some questions about what happened here earlier with Ms. Monica Stiles.”
“Sure, come on in.” Laura showed the uniformed Alexandria police officer into the living room, where he made friends with Cosmo and shook hands with Alec.
“Have a seat,” Alec said, and then turned to Laura. “Jay and I worked some cases together. He’s a good cop.”
“Thanks,” Jay said. “I sure learned a lot from you.” He wrote down notes as Laura and Alec explained what had happened earlier with Monica. When he learned of Alec’s affair, Jay stared at Alec for several seconds with no change in his facial expression.
Alec frowned and looked down.
Jay examined the broken vase, the bloody rug, and the fractured front door. Earlier, Laura and Alec had cleaned up most of the mess.
“Her shot went through the door here?” Jay pointed at the hole in the door.
“Yes,” Laura said.
“I found a bullet hole in
a tree trunk across the street,” Alec said.
“Is Monica all right?” Laura asked.
“She’s fine.” Jay scribbled more notes. “She woke up in the ER, and she’s getting her scalp stitched. The doctor told me her brain scan was normal.”
“That’s a relief,” Laura said.
“Did you speak with her husband?” Alec said to Jay.
“Yes. He was admitted to the hospital recently himself, and he was discharged home a few days ago. In the ER this evening, when the doctor told him what happened with Ms. Stiles, he acted irritated but not really surprised. He’s suspected all along that his wife has had affairs over the last few years. He told me he’s decided to move her out of the area—he’s looking at a job in Florida.”
“I don’t think that’ll solve their problems,” Laura said. “But at least he sounds rational again. Maybe medication will stabilize him.”
Jay closed his notebook. “It seems you acted in self defense, Dr. Valorian. Looks like we got Mrs. Stiles for assault with a deadly weapon.”
“It was an accidental gunshot. I’m sure she didn’t intend to hurt anyone. Tell them that if they move to Florida, I won’t press charges.”
“Forgive and forget, eh?”
Laura looked at Alec. “Something like that.”
“Are you sure about this, Doctor?”
“Yes. At least, she won’t be around here anymore. She’ll move on to her next affair.”
“You’re probably right.” He smiled. “Anyway, less work for me.”
After Jay left, Laura and Alec sat on the living room couch sipping chianti wine. They rehashed the Preswick case.
“You showed good reflexes with that vase,” Alec said.
“I’m glad it wasn’t too heavy, for my sake and hers.”
Alec stood. “Got a piece of plywood?”
Laura found some wood in her garage.
Alec removed the cardboard and nailed the plywood over the gash in the front door. “You need a new door,” he said.
“I feel like I’m a de facto member of the official detective film noir society. My house now has a bullet hole in it.”
She jumped as her cell phone rang out a tune.
“This is Detective Judkins. We’re finished with the searches. We found some useful evidence.”
Laura pumped her fist. “Wonderful. Do you know who the killer is?”
“I think I know who killed Dr. Preswick, but I still need your help. I want to see your evidence. We’re rounding up all the suspects. We meet in about one hour, at 9:00.” He gave Laura directions to the police station.
“So, I’m to pick out the killer?”
“If you’re feeling up to it.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.”
Chapter 28
At 9:00 p.m. on Sunday night, 13 days after the death of Dr. Roderick Preswick, five people—Alec Dupree, Dr. Laura Valorian, and three police officers—entered an interrogation room at a Washington, D.C. police station. One of the officers was Detective Judkins.
He had told her that this was not an interrogation and that all the suspects came voluntarily, with the understanding that their harassment would end tonight—if they were innocent.
Laura noted the blank walls and spare chairs. Periodic visitors here would enjoy no pleasant distractions and, therefore, no reasons for their minds to wander. Laura figured that, in this room, suspects were supposed to feel uncomfortable.
Feeling grateful about the presence of friendly, able-bodied men nearby, she studied her ‘lineup.’ Six murder suspects sat at a rectangular table. George Detmeyer wore a bright red Hawaiian shirt and occupied one side of the table. To his right at another side of the table was Nancy Preswick, who appeared subdued in a dark green cotton dress. Opposite Detmeyer was Blake Sutcliff in a white and blue T-shirt that read: “Life Is Like a Box of Firecrackers: You Never Know Which One Will Blow Up In Your Face.” Next to him was Tina Landry in a pink lacy blouse and white pants. Matthew Kline wore a white cotton dress shirt with a maroon tie. He sat next to Max Flowers and across the table from Nancy Preswick. Max sported a yellow polo shirt from a Las Vegas casino.
Laura stopped near the table. “Matthew.”
Detective Judkins nodded. “We located Dr. Kline this afternoon, in Baltimore.”
Laura clenched her jaw as she felt the glares from the other five suspects. George Detmeyer’s face was reddened and his forehead furrowed. Nancy Preswick looked pale and solemn, but not angry. At times, Nancy’s eyes glinted at Tina Landry, who seemed embarrassed and mostly stared down at her lap. Dr. Blake Sutcliff drummed the table with his fingers. Max Flowers’ hands had a slight tremor.
“You’d better get a good lawyer. I’m suing you for all you’ve got,” Sutcliff said, jabbing his finger at Laura.
Judkins raised his hand. “Hold it down, Dr. Sutcliff. This won’t take long.”
“I should hope not. We’ve all got better things to do,” Sutcliff said.
Detmeyer slapped the table. “Let’s get this over with.”
Judkins cleared his throat. “We asked you all to be here because we’ve good reason to believe that Dr. Roderick Preswick was murdered by one of you on Monday, almost two weeks ago.” He watched the reactions of the group. “I see you’re all accustomed to that idea, probably because of the good work of Mr. Dupree and Dr. Valorian. We believe that Dr. Preswick was killed by poison, a powerful opiate, a so-called designer drug. Today, we conducted searches, and in the trash outside of one of your places, we found a discarded vial. This afternoon, our lab performed some special tests and discovered traces of a chemical in that vial, a chemical possibly consistent with an opiate-type drug.” Again, he scanned the faces of the suspects.
Laura noted that each suspect showed interest, but there were no suspicious reactions.
Judkins turned to Laura. “Dr. Valorian, will you walk around the room and do what you need to do?”
Laura began to circle the room, close behind those seated at the table. A few turned around to look at her as she passed by. She completed her task in 30 seconds.
“Are you finished?” Judkins said.
“Yes.”
“Let’s step out into the hall.”
Laura, Alec, and Judkins left the room.
One minute later, the three reentered the room.
Detective Judkins spoke. “The vial found by the search team and Dr. Valorian’s evidence identify the same person. Therefore, I’m placing Dr. Blake—”
“Wait a minute.” Blake Sutcliff leaped to his feet, holding his palm high in front of him. “That must’ve been planted on me. Someone’s setting me up, framing me. It’s an obvious frame. One of the cops framed me.” He pounded the table with his fist.
Judkins stared at him. “Dr. Blake Sutcliff, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Dr. Roderick Preswick and the attempted murder of Dr. Laura Valorian. You have the right to . . .”
Two other police officers converged on Sutcliff, whose eyes convulsed in their sockets. Laura scanned the room. Everyone was staring at Sutcliff as he transformed into a fiery-eyed madman. Everyone, that is, except Tina Landry, who kept her eyes directed down toward her hands on the table.
Blake turned and threw a right cross at the closest officer, who blocked the punch with his left forearm. The second officer grabbed Sutcliff from behind, and Alec raced over to help wrestle the struggling animal to the floor. Now, three men had Sutcliff pinned, and they were greeted by an ear-splitting string of obscenities.
As his rights were recited to him, Blake Sutcliff tired during the scuffle, unable to free his arms or legs. Handcuffs were snapped on his wrists, and he was escorted out of the room.
“The rest of you are free to go,” Judkins said.
A few minutes later, Laura stood out in the hall at the police station with Alec and Matthew.
“What were you doing in Baltimore?” she said.
Matthew sighed and leaned toward her. “Getting counseling for my depression.
I wanted to avoid everyone, including Lisa. I didn’t want her to see me like that.”
“Good. You’re doing the right thing.” Laura put her hand on his shoulder. “You were close to suicide, weren’t you?”
“Yes. I’d even planned it out.”
“That’s why you bought the designer opiates from the dealer?”
Matthew nodded.
“Alec and I found a syringe in your home. I presume we’d find opiates in it, if we tested it?”
“Yes. I almost injected myself, but I couldn’t go through with it. I dumped the drug down the sink. I meant to throw the syringe away.”
“Lisa’s missed you.”
Matthew smiled. “I know. I need to get back to her, and my son.”
“Are you going to rev up your practice again?”
“No. I don’t want to practice medicine anymore.”
“What will you do?”
“My older brother has a successful small business. Before I became a doctor, he wanted me to help him out and maybe take it over from him when he retires. It’s time I joined him. I talked to him yesterday. He’s real excited about it, and I’m excited, too. I just hope Lisa understands.”
“She will,” Laura said as she hugged him. “Good luck.”
Matthew walked away, his shoulders straight.
Laura and Alec were walking down a hallway of the police station when Mrs. Preswick hailed them.
“Dr. Valorian, I want to congratulate you and Mr. Dupree. A truly memorable performance.” She shook their hands.
“Thank you,” Laura said. “I’m sorry for all the inconvenience we caused you.”
“Well, it was worth it, wasn’t it? You proved my husband was murdered, and you found his killer. I didn’t like being a suspect, though. I’m afraid I didn’t play that part very well.”
“You probably felt like murdering Tina in there, didn’t you?” Alec said.
“No. Sometimes I just wanted to know whom his affairs were with. It was a kind of game. Remember, he always came back.”
Mrs. Preswick smiled at them and departed. Alec and Laura stood watching her.
“She carries herself like a queen, doesn’t she?” Laura said.
“Yep, and she doesn’t seem lonely. Maybe this queen doesn’t need a king.”