Max Flowers hurried past Alec and Laura and disappeared through the exit doors.
“I think he needs help,” Laura said. “A lot of medical types become dependent on prescription pain meds or sedatives.”
“Do you believe he’ll get help?”
“If he is addicted, the odds are someone at the hospital or clinic will notice his behavioral changes and report him. In fact, I think I’ll mention that possibility to someone I know who works there.”
“Dr. Valorian?” Laura turned around to face Tina Landry. “I want to thank you for what you did.”
Laura’s eyebrows flew up. “Thank me?”
“I mean, solving the murder was great and all, but I think you also saved me from Blake.”
Laura cocked her head. “Saved you from Blake?”
“I’ve been worried about him for a while, especially after he got fired. It’s like I don’t know him any more. I even felt afraid of him at times, and I think I saw some drugs in his car once.”
“You think he took drugs?”
“I don’t know for sure. It wouldn’t surprise me. Sometimes, he acted real strange. He told me he was going to quit medicine, but he wouldn’t answer me straight when I asked him what he was going to do.”
“Did he ever hit you?”
“No, but he almost did when he found out I was seeing Dr. Preswick. Blake got pretty mad a couple of times. I guess I can believe, you know, looking back at it, that he could kill someone. He really turned into a monster, didn’t he?” Tina paused and touched Laura’s arm. “You might’ve saved my life.”
Laura crossed her arms and watched Tina walk away.
At the exit door, Detective Judkins’ large frame loomed up beside Laura.
“That was a good call, Dr. Valorian. You incriminated the same suspect that we did. What is that thing on the back of his neck?”
“A skin lesion—a black mole—on the left side of his neck. I must’ve seen it for a fraction of a second at the Newseum when he bumped into me to put the drug in my coffee. He’d covered just about the entire remaining skin of his body with the long beard and heavy coat and gloves.”
“At his home, hidden in the attic, we found a face disguise along with the beard, coat, and cap. The mask distorted his facial features enough that recognition was difficult, I’m sure.”
“Were there any fingerprints on the vial found at his place?”
“No, but we didn’t expect to find any.”
“By the way, that mole looks suspicious for cancer—melanoma. I recommend getting a dermatologist to look at it.”
Judkins smiled, displaying most of his teeth. “No problem. He’ll have plenty of time for doctor visits now.”
Laura walked with Alec to his car through the crisp night air. As they settled in their seats, she turned to him. “So, do you think Sutcliff killed Dr. Preswick because Preswick fired him and maybe ruined his career?”
“And stole his girl.”
“I guess that’s motive enough. We know Sutcliff has a wicked temper.”
“Right,” Alec said. “I checked with my informant last night. One of his drug dealer buddies recognized Sutcliff’s photo as someone he’d bought drugs from, and Judkins told me this evening they found evidence that Sutcliff was selling cocaine and narcotics. Drugs were stashed at his place—and at Tina’s.”
“So, we have proof of his drug business.” Laura cocked her head. “And Tina’s role was helping to store his drugs. I don’t get the impression that Sutcliff loved Tina. He probably didn’t care that she and Preswick were having an affair. Remember he said he and Tina had been dating on and off. But when Tina started talking about marriage to Preswick, I’m sure he got nervous about losing her help with his drug business.”
“Yes, and it’s possible Dr. Preswick discovered his illegal sideline. They probably frequented the same clubs. Heck, maybe Tina mentioned the drug business to Preswick, and then Preswick threatened to expose him—to keep him quiet about Preswick’s affair with Tina.”
“Sutcliff is a real-life Jekyll and Hyde. I can visualize them having an argument about the drugs, and then Dr. Preswick fires him for an easy, trumped-up reason, laughing all the while.”
“He’s not laughing now,” Alec said.
“No, but maybe he’s smiling down on us.”
Alec drove away in the direction of Laura’s house.
“I noticed Detmeyer didn’t thank us, though I’m not surprised,” Laura said.
“I alerted Judkins to Detmeyer’s past. He’s going to look into those single car accidents that killed his previous wives.”
“I could believe he’s a wife-killer. And if he did the murders, I’ll bet he slipped up somewhere, left some evidence.”
“If he did, Judkins will nail him.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
“Losing that malpractice case really got to Dr. Kline. You think he’ll quit medical practice?” Alec said.
Laura thought about the misery her friend had recently experienced. He’d even almost lost his life. She decided he looked better at the police station. Maybe he’d pull himself together, but it was probably going to be a long haul. “His heart’s not in medicine anymore. Besides, he’s got several million dollars hanging over his head. He may lose many of his possessions and part of his future income. I don’t blame him. I just hope Lisa understands.”
Chapter 29
Alec pulled up in front of Laura’s house. The street and house brightened as a cloud drifted away from the moon.
“Let’s go in,” she said.
Alec sighed. “I’m glad you’re still speaking to me.”
“We do need to talk—about several issues.”
An excited Cosmo greeted them at the door.
Laura looked up at Alec. “You don’t imagine Sutcliff had an accomplice in the murder, do you?”
“The person we know who’d best fit that bill is Tina, right?”
“That’s who I had in mind.”
“Why do you think they might’ve been in this together?”
“Well, for one thing, they always seemed to be together.”
They sat down on Laura’s spacious couch in the living room.
Alec turned to her. “I remember Tina’s reaction when you asked her about any medications she might keep for emergencies. I’ll bet she stored Blake’s drugs in her apartment.”
“What if it was Sutcliff who fell against me at the Newseum? I don’t think it was Tina in that homeless outfit. But, I don’t think Sutcliff killed Preswick . . . I think maybe Tina did, and here’s why.”
Laura stood and paced around the room. “Consider the CPR business. What if Tina did intentionally block Dr. Preswick’s airway?”
Alec followed Laura as she circled the room. “If that’s true, there’s got to be more to it. Tina was there, at the bar. She responded to that cry for help: ‘Anyone here know CPR?’ ”
Laura stopped. “I see what you mean. The other nurse had already started CPR. Tina went to the airway. If you want to make certain that CPR isn’t going to work, the surest way is to obstruct the airway and prevent any air entry. Also, chest compressions are easy to monitor. You can tell from ten feet away if someone is screwing up compressions, but lung expansions and airway management are more difficult to see and evaluate, especially if the lighting is not good.”
“What if that scene was premeditated by Tina?” Alec said.
“Sure. Consider this. She told me they never left the bars together. She’d leave first, and Preswick would walk out a few minutes later. This time, though, Tina poisons Preswick, and then she has to hang around. She has an idea when he usually leaves to get home, so she waits, and he leaves first. She doesn’t know when he’ll collapse, but when he does fall, Tina must make sure he dies. If someone is in the vicinity that knows basic CPR, she can’t afford to let that person or persons resuscitate Preswick, like you resuscitated me. She has to pop over and finish the job—and make certain that Roderick Preswick st
ays dead.”
Alec and Laura stared at each other.
Alec nodded. “It fits. I can’t think of a better explanation, unless it’s just a series of weird coincidences.”
Laura paced again. Alec walked behind her around the living room, and Cosmo followed Alec, guarding the rear flank.
“Consider this, too,” Laura said as she stopped again. “I have the impression that Tina was overreacting back at the police station. She was laying on thick about Sutcliff’s bad ways, maybe to keep the spotlight off her.”
“If Tina killed Dr. Preswick, and if Sutcliff tried to poison you, that means they had to be plotting together.”
“Maybe Tina planned the death of Dr. Preswick with Sutcliff’s blessing. I wonder if Preswick was going to break off his affair with Tina. Mrs. Preswick told us that ‘he always came back.’ If that’s true, I’ll bet Sutcliff didn’t even know her true motive for murder: how does it go? ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?’ He probably thought she killed Preswick for him, so their lucrative drug business would stay that way—lucrative.”
“Right, she could’ve gained Sutcliff’s support for the murder plot if Preswick discovered his drug business and threatened to expose him.”
Laura nodded. “Then Sutcliff got involved when I smelled a rat and suspected that Dr. Preswick hadn’t died a natural death. Tina had already done her good deed. Now it was Blake’s turn. If he got rid of me before police got interested, they could keep the spotlight off their drug selling. Sutcliff had to protect himself. Everything was unraveling for him, and his illegal activities were suddenly in danger of discovery—if I highlighted him as a suspect in Preswick’s murder.” She grabbed Alec’s hands. “Thanks to you, his attempt to kill me failed.”
Alec smiled and squeezed her hands.
Laura sighed. “Why do you think Sutcliff came to the statue that night, in the homeless outfit?”
“Maybe to try out his disguise, and it worked—we didn’t recognize him.”
Laura snapped her fingers. “That’s why the trap failed. None of the other suspects bought designer drugs, and Sutcliff and Tina told each other about your informant’s message.”
“Right. Sutcliff, not Tina, was buying the designer drug, so they knew the phone call was fishy.”
“Well, Sutcliff is out of the way now. But what can we do about Tina?”
“He may sing now that he’s been caught. His loyalty to Tina might evaporate if he feels she’s abandoned him to the gallows. Did I say gallows?”
Laura laughed. “I get your meaning.”
“I’ll notify Judkins. The two lovebirds might perform an entertaining duet at the police station. Maybe they can be pressed to give evidence against each other.”
Laura retreated to the kitchen and poured two more glasses of chianti. In the living room, she relaxed with Alec on the couch, thinking back on possibly the most amazing two weeks of her life . . . and it wasn’t over yet.
After a few glasses of wine, Laura felt lightheaded. “Did you love that woman?”
Alec sat forward. “No.”
“You disappeared for several months recently. I tried to call you a few times. Where did you go?”
“Let’s just say I was trying to put my life back together.” He stared at Laura, a faint smile on his face, and then he stood and walked around the living room. “We’ve been through a lot together these last two weeks.”
Laura looked up at him and waited.
“I feel like we have a lot in common,” Alec said.
Laura nodded. “Not to mention I owe my life to you.”
“Well, I won’t hold that over you. I mean—”
“Don’t worry. I probably would’ve liked you anyway.” Laura walked over to him. “We do have a lot in common. I’d like to see more of you. As long as you don’t disappear for months at a time.”
Alec held her hands. “The way I feel right now, I don’t ever want to leave you.”
Laura paused and looked down. “I need to think about things.”
Alec sighed. “I understand. Take as long as you need. I’ll be here.” He crossed his arms. “Anyway, we’ve got some other things to take care of.”
“Like the guy that’s after you?”
Alec nodded.
“He scares me. What if—”
“It’s okay.” Alec smiled. “I’m smarter than he is.”
Laura put her hands on his shoulders. “I’m just getting used to you. Please, please—”
“I’ll be careful. I promise.”
“I won’t rest easy until he’s out of the way.”
“Neither will I.”
Chapter 30
Late that evening, Derek the medical student sat at a table in a noisy, crowded club in northeast D.C. He sipped iced tea and munched on Buffalo wings. He had told the man where he would be sitting.
Derek started as he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a gangly man standing next to him.
“You the brotha wants to come in?” the man said.
Derek nodded. “Have a seat.”
The man extended a fist bump as he plopped into a chair. “Name’s Jubee.”
“Thanks for coming.” Derek’s voice was coarse. “So, you knew my brother?”
“Your B was my ace—peep number one.”
“That’s good, right?”
Jubee laughed. “Yeah, man.”
Derek’s heart raced. “I was told someone from the Corda gang shot him?”
“Yeah. Dude from Corda. They were paintin’ tags on our space.”
“So, your gang was fighting the Corda gang over territory that night?”
Jubee nodded.
Derek took a deep breath to slow his heart. “What now?”
Jubee leaned closer. “Did you bring your stuff?”
Derek reached for a bag on the floor beside him. “I brought opiate prescription drugs.”
Jubee opened the bag and examined the pill bottles. “That’s good. Real good. Lots of Benjamins in that.”
Derek snorted. “Not for me. These are on the house, but I’m sure they can turn a good profit for you.”
Jubee stood up. “Let’s go.”
A misty fog—not enough moisture for an umbrella—encased Derek as he walked to his car and followed Jubee for several miles to another club. Derek could make out silhouettes of people standing around outside. He and Jubee strolled up to a group of about 20.
Jubee spoke up. “This here’s Derek. He’s going to bring us good dope.”
Derek heard a murmur of approval from the crowd. He noticed several of the guys, probably higher-ups, studying him through narrowed eyes.
One of the higher-ups moved closer to Derek. “Your’s the B was shot through?”
Derek nodded. “Yeah, he died.”
“We still pissed about that. Want to see his killers, follow me.”
Derek and Jubee merged with the crowd as they broke into a gang chant. Derek’s pulse pounded in his head. What the hell am I getting myself into? He followed the chanting pack through the mist for several blocks, until they stopped across the street from a housing project. The leader turned to everyone, his hands raised. “Get ready. I saw the spotter run inside.”
Derek noticed that many of the guys put their hands over what were probably concealed handguns. The group spread out along the side of the street and watched for any movement from the buildings, aided by spotty illumination from lighted windows and a few streetlights that had somehow remained functional.
After several minutes, a car screeched in the distance. “Get cover,” the leader yelled. Some of the pack fell to the ground, and others sprinted to nearby trees.
Derek had almost made it to a nearby huge oak tree when he heard a car squeal past and felt a forceful pop in his back. He knew he’d been shot. It was a sharp sensation with a punch, more like someone had stuck a screwdriver in his back, only not as painful. He’d always imagined a gunshot wound would hurt a lot more. Time slowed to a crawl—h
e felt as if he were floating through the air . . .
Derek skidded over the grass on his stomach, gasping for air. His head was swimming as he heard a series of gunshots and an earsplitting crash—then he blacked out.
Derek opened his eyes to bright lights and focused on fluorescent lights on the ceiling of a hospital room. He couldn’t suppress coughing and retching around an endotracheal tube in his throat.
Someone touched his arm—it was Laura. “I’ll ask the respiratory tech to remove your ET tube.”
Several minutes later, the tube was pulled out. Derek coughed and cleared his throat until he regained a voice, which was a bit huskier than usual. He turned to Laura. “What happened to me?”
“You were shot in the back. The bullet just missed your aorta, but your left lung collapsed, and the trauma surgeon put a chest tube in your left side to re-expand the lung.” She leaned over him. “At least you’re alive.”
Derek nodded. “Yeah. Someone called you?”
“An ER nurse let me know you were here.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Maybe you can tell me about it later?”
Derek sighed. “I’ll tell you this: I went a little crazy, but I did find out more about my brother’s death.” His vision blurred. “My head feels fuzzy.”
“You’ve still got sedative and pain medications in your system.”
He took a deep breath and fell back asleep.
Chapter 31
Laura woke up to the alarm clock the next morning. She yawned a few times, stretched her arms, and rolled out of bed. A pleasant smell of bacon and coffee drifted up the stairs. Remembering that Alec had stayed overnight in her guest bedroom, she put on a housecoat and walked downstairs.
Alec stood in the kitchen, hovering over a skillet on the stove. “Morning. How do you like your eggs?”
“Sunny side up.”
“Have some fresh coffee. Did you sleep okay?”
“Fair. I wish I didn’t have to work today.” She poured herself a cup of black, steaming coffee and walked over to Alec. “Thanks for staying over.”
The Diagnosis is Murder (A Dr. Valorian Mystery Book 1) Page 23
