by Judith Lucci
“Yeah, we need to discuss it at that security meeting this afternoon," Houser added.
“Houser, can you come to my office after we are done? I have a lot to catch you up on.” Jack turned to Vern, “Get this note to forensics will you?”
“Yeah, man. Let’s go check out the body,” Vern suggested.
Jack didn't want to, but he did. He knew what he would find.
Even the beautiful, cool New Orleans day couldn’t overcome the pall of the group reviewing the body strung over the railing. It was a gruesome and hideous sight. It was as if a dark cloud had blanketed and shrouded the blue sky from the team of police officers.
Finally, Captain Houser spoke, “OK, gentlemen, I’ve seen some weird stuff in my time but I have never seen anyone with their throat slit from side to side with no blood at the crime scene. What’s this all about? Also, why is the body upside down? Anybody have any idea what this means?”
After a moment Jack spoke. “The killer is a serial. We had four murders just like this in a 24-hour period less than two months ago. Two of them were Senator Beau LaMont and Hayes Hunter of the Democratic Party. The other two were just kids. In addition, we believe there are more. Potentially many, many more. There was a similar, almost identical case in 2009 and some in the 1980s. There are no clues, no murder weapons, no suspects, and very little evidence.”
Captain Houser was thoughtful. “OK, but where is the blood? We do not know much at all, do we, but there should be some blood here. The cause of death is pretty obvious.”
Vern responded, “There is never any blood at these scenes. The victims die from exsanguination. They bleed out. The murderer bleeds them to death."
Houser hesitated a moment and scratched his head. “I understand that. But, let me ask again, where is the blood?”
Vern Bridges was exasperated. He was very short on sleep. His response was short and clipped. “We don’t know. They are killed somewhere else, we have no clue where and then the bodies are always brought to this location. Sometimes they are hung upside down, just to be sure all the blood has come out. I am surmising that is what has happened here, once again.”
Houser nodded, “Unbelievable. It’s like a ghoul, a monster. Are you serious, no evidence, nothing?” He gave Jack and Bridges a look of disbelief.
Jack nodded. “That’s right. We unofficially call them the St. Germaine murders.”
Houser’s face was blank. “What’s St. Germaine? Is it a place?”
“No, it's a man. Where the hell have you been? Jacques St. Germaine was an eighteenth century nobleman, purportedly a vampire, who allegedly still roams the streets of the French Quarter feasting on the blood of its residents…only now he seems to be feasting more on the blood of tourists.”
Captain John Houser’s jaw dropped with disbelief. He looked at Jack as thought he was an idiot. “What? What in the hell are you talking about? Are you nuts?”
As Jack was about to answer, he heard the grating, whiny voice of Mayor Anthony Devries over his shoulder. For Jack, the sound was worse than fingernails scratching a chalkboard.
“Francoise, I told you to catch this man. What in the hell have you been doing?”
The mayor’s complaining, moaning, voice was more than Jack could handle. He was about to jump out of his skin. He couldn’t tolerate the mayor for one more second.
The commander gave Jason a wild-eyed look and said to everyone, “I gotta get out of here. I just got out of a meeting with that sleazy combed-over son of a bitch an hour ago plus I have to see him again at 5:00. Jason, please update him for me.”
“Francoise, do you hear me,” the mayor intoned. “I am talking to you.”
Jack faced Devries and said abruptly, “Officer Aldridge will update you. I just received a call from CCMC and must leave.” He turned to Captain Houser, “Meet me at my office on Royal ASAP.”
Houser nodded and Commander Francoise ran toward his silver Cadillac with the speed of a 15-year-old kid.
He jumped into his car with the prowess of an Olympic gymnast, roared out of his parking place and raced to his office on Royal. I’ll give Jason a gift certificate to Commander’s Palace. Anything he wants for dealing with the mayor. Anything he wants. I just couldn’t handle him again so soon…the whiny son of a bitch makes me crazy.
Chapter 11
Alex clicked on her cell phone with a bright smile on her face and said, “Granddad, how are you?”
“Alexandra, what the hell is going on now in that damn sin-infested hellhole city you insist on living in?” Congressman Adam Patrick Lee’s voice literally roared into Alex’s ear. His voice was so loud that Alex held the receiver away from her ear.
“And hello to you as well, Granddad. How are things in Virginia?” Alex asked pleasantly, attempting to relieve some of the stress in her grandfather’s voice.
“Things in Virginia are fine. Things in Virginia are always fine. We don’t live with cockroaches the size of automobiles, enough germs to infect the Mississippi River, or incompetent, elected officials who steal from their own citizens,” Adam Lee spat into the phone. He smiled to himself. His granddaughter was the light of his life. “Why you insist on living in that heathen hellhole is beyond me. You could be anywhere in the world but you choose that dump. It’s beyond me.”
“Be careful, Granddad, there’s always a first time. Disaster is never far behind. Things in Virginia can go bad at any moment. When does your flight arrive tomorrow?” Alex’s voice was cheerful, placating as she deftly changed the subject.
“What the hell is this I hear about some bad virus at the hospital? Your grandmother just heard it on CNN. They said the CDC was there. Is that true?”
Alex groaned inwardly. “CNN? What did they say?” How did the news always find out information, most of it accurate, before the hospital issued a statement?
Congressman Lee’s impatience was explosive. “Exactly what I said, young lady. Now, stop stalling and spit it out. What the hell is going on at the damn hospital you work at?”
“Granddad, it’s CCMC now. We’re a premier hospital. Show some respect, will you,” Alex admonished cheerfully.
“I don’t give a damn if it is ABCDE or FART hospital. What is happening there? Do you have Ebola or something worse?” Adam was insistent and was getting angry. Adam Patrick was a crusty old codger and used to getting his way. He had never been blessed with patience.
Alex sighed and said quietly, “We don’t know and I didn’t know it had been on CNN. Yes, the CDC is here and whatever it is, we have seven cases. The CDC is trying to isolate the virus and should know something by late afternoon.”
Adam Lee was quiet for a moment and said, “You’ve got to get out of there. I won’t have you there when there is such a danger. I will send a jet for you later this afternoon.” Adam's voice was firm and final.
This time is was Alex who was angry. She hated that tone of finality in his voice and remembered it well from her rebellious teenage years. She retorted angrily, “Granddad, there is no way I am leaving New Orleans. If we have a viral outbreak, then we have one. I can’t leave. Robert and I are the only administrators at the hospital and as the hospital legal counsel I couldn’t leave it if I wanted to. I am not leaving New Orleans, not anytime soon.” Alex’s tone left no room for negotiation.
The Congressman was trying to be patient but he was used to getting his way. He was also incredibly stubborn. “Alexandra, this could be much worse than you think. This could be an act of bioterrorism in view of the political convention this weekend. Things could get much worse, violent in fact. You must leave. I demand it.”
By this time, Alex was seething. “Granddad, you need to understand that I am not 8 years old anymore. I'm an adult and I have an adult job and adult responsibilities. Even if I could leave, I wouldn’t. If you want to blame me for my ethics and sense of responsibility, you’ll have to look at yourself. It’s been ingrained in me since I could walk.” Alex was more than a little pissed and she knew he
could tell by her voice. An angry silence followed.
“I told the old fool you wouldn’t come home. I knew I was right. How are you darling?” Kathryn Rosseau Lee's voice was warm and soothing on the phone.
Alex's spirits lifted at the sound of her warm, Southern drawl.
“Grand! I am fine. I promise you.” Alex was thankful for her grandmother's intervention and understanding. Her grandmother was always there for her and possessed the wisdom she needed, and the comfort that she seemed to need a lot of these days. Alexandra Destephano’s grandmother was her rock and her fortress in life. “Things here are complicated but we will get it all worked out. Please don’t worry.”
“Is Robert around?” Kathryn Rosseau Lee always asked about Robert Bonnet. She felt Alex was safe and cared for when Robert was close by.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I just saw him. Believe it or not, the two of us are in charge of CCMC. All the other administrators are away. Scary, isn’t it?” Alex joked.
Her grandfather grunted but her grandmother said, “I believe the hospital is safer than it has ever been. You two are a good pair.”
Alex smiled into the phone. “I may need to call you for advice, Grand. Adam, when do you arrive? Are you staying at the Palm Court?”
“I have reservations at Hotel Burgundy, in the Quarter. I’ll have a cab just drop me there.”
Alex shivered with fright for a moment and asked, “Granddad, please stay at the Palm."
"No can do, Alex. My mentee, a young Congressman, needs to meet with me and we are both at the Hotel Burgundy. You know him. Ben Blankenship. He was here at the farm a few years ago. I'm supposed to teach him the political ropes," Congressman Lee's voice was firm.
"Granddad, please," Alex pleaded. "The first admission with the virus worked at the Hotel Burgundy. Can you get a reservation at Palm Court? Would you like me to check?”
Alex’s grandmother intervened, “He’ll be at the Palm Court, Alex, or he won’t be at the convention. You can be sure of that. The old fool doesn't need to catch anything, much less a bad virus.” Her voice was strong and decisive.
Adam Lee started to protest, but Alex could picture her grandmother glaring and waving her index finger at him. Alex interrupted and said, “Good. Have to go guys, I have another meeting. I love you.”
“We love you too, Alex. Your grandfather will be at the Palm Court tomorrow afternoon.”
“Got it, Grand. Love you, Bye.
“Bye, Alex,” her grandparents said in unison.
Alex smiled and shook her head as she clicked off her cell phone. Would her grandfather ever realize she was grown up? Probably not, her inner voice answered. And somehow that was OK with her but sometimes it did make her mad.
Chapter 11
Alex and Robert were ushered into the Emergency Department conference room by a fully garbed CDC nurse who had been friendly but either unwilling or unable to answer Alex’s questions. Alex’s best guess was that the CDC staffer was trained not to answer their questions. The nurse assured them that Dr. Charmaine would join them shortly.
Alex looked around at the conference room. It was cluttered with crumpled papers and dirty cups. A large carafe of coffee and dried out fruit and doughnuts stood on the credenza at the far side of the room. The place was a mess and it was fast becoming her home away from home. She busied herself cleaning up and realized how much she missed her larger, beautifully appointed conference room in the legal counsel's suite with its well-stocked refrigerator and comfortable padded chairs. In comparison, the ED conference room was utilitarian and crowded. Besides, the chairs were dreadfully uncomfortable. She made a mental note to ask Sandy how to deal with the leftover food. But doubted housekeeping or dietary wanted to enter the ED area or that CDC regulations would even allow it.
After a few minutes, Yvette joined them with a container of iced tea, lemons, and three glasses with ice. Alex accepted, realizing for the first time that she had missed lunch. Her stomach growled. Yvette laughed and offered saltine crackers ‘on the house.’ Alex smiled, but declined, and the three got down to business.
Dr. Charmaine put on her official CDC hat and began. “Well, I do have some news – both good and bad. It’s not totally Ebola, so that’s the good news but the bad news is that we still don’t know exactly what we are dealing with and that concerns me. Dr. Tim Smith from Tulane will be joining us in a few moments. He has a brilliant virology grad student who has been running permutations and predictive models and is helping us identify what we are working with. Dr. Broderick has been working non-stop in the ED." Yvette shook her head and added, "Folks, I don't know what to tell you. We may be in for a long haul here."
Robert was listening carefully. “Yvette, have you ruled out Lassa and Marburg? Wouldn’t those be the next two most logical viruses?”
Yvette shook her head. “No, Robert, not completely. I haven’t ruled out anything except Ebola as the primary virus. Ebola is easy to test for and I have tested twice. It is definitely not Ebola. Whatever this thing is, it’s not a totally hemorrhagic virus. There is a hemorrhagic component, but I think it is bigger than that. It doesn’t appear purely hemorrhagic under electron microscopy. It’s mutating quickly and that is alarming.”
Alex interrupted, “Bigger? I don’t understand, Yvette. I thought we were talking about a hemorrhagic virus. Has that changed?”
Dr. Charmaine shook her head. “No, Alex, not totally. My original thoughts and suspicions have just changed a bit.”
The three turned toward the ED door as Dr. Tim Smith entered. He sat down, nodded at Alex, and gave Yvette a dispirited look.
“What's up, Tim?” Yvette asked.
"Not good. Our first patient, the one in the ICU just died.”
“From the virus, I suppose?” Robert asked.
“Indirectly, I presume. But it's strange. He developed an incredibly virulent pneumonia. He had a respiratory arrest earlier, we revived him, but then he coded again and once again we revived him. But, his lungs just gave up. Filled with fluid. His films and CT are suggestive of some type of pneumonia, but none of us has seen anything like it. The pneumonia appeared viral. It's important to note that the films were not clear. We’ll have to wait for autopsy.”
“Robert, who is your best forensic pathologist?” Yvette asked.
“Madeline Jeanfreau.”
Yvette interrupted her voice incredulous. “Maddy Jeanfreau is a pathologist? A medical examiner? Oh, wow, I didn’t even know she was a physician! That’s amazing!” Yvette's voice displayed her surprise as she turned to Alex. “Can you get her over to post this guy STAT? We have to isolate this lung virus.”
Alex nodded. “I’ll call. She reports to Jack Francoise because most of her work is criminal. Let me call over to the Coroner’s office. I suppose, for containment reasons, she must come here, right?” Alex questioned as she went outside to make the call.
“Yes, Alexandra, absolutely. Tim, anything from the grad student?” Yvette was all business.
“Ali is working on some prediction models and slides. Hopefully, he will come up with something. He’s the best I’ve seen at this. If we keep feeding him data, we'll get something.”
Yvette nodded and turned to Robert. “We are under a bioterrorism attack. I need you to triple your security here at the hospital. We also need to call the NOPD for more manpower. We need stairwells locked, all staff easily identifiable, and all elective surgeries cancelled for fear of contamination. Also, be sure all radioactive materials are accounted for and under strict surveillance. I would recommend that you discharge or transfer all patients you possibly can in an effort to decrease traffic into and out of the hospital. Please be sure the parking lots are secure and all cameras are working properly. Have hospital security patrol them more often.”
Robert nodded grimly. “OK, what else?”
Yvette continued, "I'm going to have to notify the Governor's office and ask for more help. I will ask him to involve the Louisiana National Guard. Th
ey can help secure the hospital along with CCMC security and local police."
Tim Smith shook his head, "Unbelievable. This is a medical center's worst nightmare." His voice was dour.
Robert and Yvette nodded in agreement.
“This is anyone’s worst nightmare,” Robert added.
"Yeah, for sure and we need to be prepared for anything and everything. Things could go badly here at a moment's notice," Yvette added bleakly as Alex returned to the conference room.
Yvette questioned her, “Is Dr. Jeanfreau available?”
Alex nodded. “She’ll be here in several hours. She’ll come over here to CCMC. Robert, Yvette, Tim, I had to talk with Jack to free Maddy up. She’s pretty busy." Alex hesitated for a moment.
Robert knew Alex well and asked, "What else, Alex? I can tell there's more by your face."
"Yes, there is. We have another problem," Alex announced, and gave the trio a depressing look. "Jack will be here soon but he told me to alert you in case he got tied up.”
"What the hell else could go wrong? Dr. Charmaine just declared us to be under a bioterrorism attack. We're calling the Governor and he's sending in the National Guard, so what else could be worse?" Tim Smith was emotional.
In fact, Alex thought he sounded pissed. She turned to Tim, “Dr. Smith, you are going to be sorry you agreed to help us and left Tulane Medical …”
“Alex, what is it,” Robert persisted. He knew she was stalling.
“Another murder in the Quarter. It was a Republican this time. Another gruesome murder. He was killed just like Senator Beau LaMont and Hayes Hunter. It was a young Congressman traveling with his wife and aides.”
Yvette Charmaine digested this information, turned to the others and said, “I read about the murders of Senator Lamont and Hayes Hunter in Atlanta. They were horrific, brutal. I'll have to report this. We may have more than a virus problem in New Orleans. It seems to be that someone is after politicians as well. There are too many coincidences to be ignored.”
