She hadn’t wanted to tarnish the memory of the parents who had raised her. Francis, her father, had passed away when she was fifteen but her mother, Alice, had been left well-funded through the foresight of Francis. They’d meant no harm, even if Francis had left one morning with $50,000 and came home with a baby in his arms for his wife instead of money. Inga had lived a privileged life with every advantage; they’d done well by her. But what about other children that may have been sold on to adoptive parents? And the mothers that may still be alive that could finally touch the children they’d been told died?
Inga worried at her lip with her teeth and thought. No, this was much bigger than just her and her parents, this was something that involved a long list of crimes and she would have to involve the authorities somewhere along the line. Twisting a lock of her auburn hair around her finger Inga picked up Joan’s file to continue reading it, promising herself she’d go to the local police department the next morning.
Joan’s files revealed the exact nature of just how terrible Doctor Nelson could truly be. His notes recounted the night Joan disappeared, the glee of fooling Joan’s husband oozing through the yellowed paper. Apparently Nurse Pracket had struck again and Doctor Nelson was unsure of how to explain to Scott that his wife had been given too much EST.
Joan hadn’t died, however. Doctor Nelson simply kept her locked away in an underground facility, one of many from the way the doctor wrote, and used her as a guinea pig for the experiments he’d designed. Doctor Nelson seemed to have been obsessed with his father’s research and carried on those efforts for many years. Joan had lived for five years in that underground facility, a victim to periodic EST and brutal experiments that stole her sight, made all of her hair fall out, made her teeth rot and crumble away, and finally left her deaf and paralyzed. Joan became locked into a world of darkness, silence, and pain. She’d existed in that world for a year before finally passing away from heart failure.
Doctor Nelson had used electricity, surgeries without anesthetics, and finally chemicals on Joan in a variety of experiments for sterilization and then reversing mental health problems. The doctor’s interest bounced around from page to page Inga noted and poor Joan had been the guinea pig. Putting the file down Inga dried her eyes and looked outside. The sun had gone down now and Inga knew what she absolutely had to do tonight. She first copied and scanned each file with a portable scanner and then put them all into a bag.
Dressed in black clothing with a small flashlight and her phone in her back pocket Inga drove out to the old hospital to find out what else she could discover before the sun came up. She had to find more proof before she went to the police department.
Chapter Ten
Inga parked well away from the hospital, not sure if there was a night watchman on duty or not but knowing if she wanted to sneak in quietly she’d have to walk part of the distance. She took her bag with her but filled her pockets once again with the flashlight and her phone. Those she wanted handy in case she needed them.
Moving down the road, scrunching down when a car came her way or hiding behind a tree, Inga was determined that no one would see her going into the hospital. She was about to break the law just a little bit and she didn’t want any witnesses. Yes, she was going to get more information but she was also doing this to take those files back to the hospital. Imagine breaking in to return something!
Inga made fun of herself as she walked, hoping to distract herself from her worries about being caught. And then she was at the hospital complex, hiding behind trees, and darting between bushes until she arrived at the window she’d left unlocked earlier. There were no lights on in the building and none in the parking lot, just a security light over the doors that she was able to dodge around. There were no cars in the parking lot either so she had to assume there was nobody inside of the hospital either.
Inga scurried to the window and first pushed it then pulled it. Nothing happened so she got a grasp on the bottom part of the window and pushed up instead of out. At last, she had the window open. She wanted to give a victory shout but calmed herself before she did. Grabbing onto the sill Inga pulled herself into the office once more and hid behind the desk.
Staying still she couldn’t hear anything then quietly moved towards the door. She hoped it wasn’t locked from the outside and worried that might be what stopped her from carrying on any further. Looking back at the filing cabinet she decided to leave the files there and go through the rest first. Inga was planning to go to the basement levels first but thinking about the other files decided against it.
Pulling open the drawer she’d found the three files in Inga looked through the files it contained. Normal births and gynecological exams with no mention of the atrocities found in the other three. Inga spent an hour looking through the files, using only the bright moonlight to see by, and came up with nothing. Inga knew that there had to be more files, the doctor had alluded to other women being treated the same as Joan. Where were those files, she wondered.
Giving up on finding more files in the room Inga walked back to the door and cracked it open. The door opened without a sound but Inga realized her shoes were going to make a squeaking noise so she took them off, putting them in her large handbag before shutting the door and heading for the elevator. She thought a security guard, squirreled away somewhere, and might notice the elevator moving so she headed for the stairs instead.
Inga made her way down the stairs quietly, wondering what she was going to find. The first sublevel held the laundering facilities for the hospital and supplies that would be needed. Inga searched the entire area but found nothing like Doctor Nelson had described so she went back to the stairs, going down to the next level.
She pushed through a set of double doors, wondering how the staff had ever kept the place secure with all of these open doors, and walked through the dark room she was in, her flashlight flickering back and forth. She knew there wasn’t anyone that could see it down here because there were no windows so Inga wasn’t worried about using the light to guide her way.
This level was split by a hallway with doors every ten feet or so. She finally came to end of the level and only saw one door facing her. Pushing on the handle she walked into a room that was obviously an office. Going to the desk she dug through it but only found forms and office supplies. She dug around in the filing cabinet but saw it only contained books and more forms. This place dearly loved forms!
She opened a closet and flashed the light around but found only an old coat and some boxes. Flicking at the coat in anger Inga’s jaw dropped when she saw the wall appeared to have another door in it. Quickly moving the boxes out of the closet Inga was amazed to find there actually was a door hidden in the closet. She tried the knob and found the door opened smoothly.
Inga paused, terrified there’d be someone behind the door or, worse, bodies that had been abandoned. Inga reminded herself she was a reporter and there’d been no cars in the parking lot. She might find something gruesome but there wasn’t anyone alive here, she hoped. Besides, nobody had been through that door in a while if the dust on the boxes was any indication.
Inga walked into the vast room she found herself in and looked around for a light switch. She finally found it and flicked the row of switches, revealing quite a few of the bulbs had blown but she could see enough that she turned the flashlight off. Walking around she found the space had been separated with curtains on wheels, the old version of privacy walls in hospitals. Each section contained a bed with either chains or cuffs attached to it.
Inga counted and found there were twenty beds, an area where a bank of monitors stood, and a proper office with a large Plexiglas window making up part of the wall. Inga assumed the window was to ensure observations could be made from the safety of the office. Heading in that direction Inga hoped she’d finally found what she was looking for. What else could this all be about?
Going straight to the desk Inga opened the largest drawer and hit the jackpot. Files fill
ed the space and Inga pulled one out at random. Opening the thick file she saw that the patient was named Maureen Grady and had been held in the facility for two years. A heroin addict the woman had no family to miss her or to ask about her, that the doctor knew of. She’d come in off the street, her labor so progressed the baby’s head was visible.
Doctor Nelson had written that the baby had died soon after birth, the heroin withdrawal more than its tiny body could take. Doctor Nelson had performed experiments on her until kidney failure killed her. Inga pulled out another file and found a similar story. It seemed Doctor Nelson had grown wise over time, going for women that would not be missed instead of those with husbands and family. Inga went through file after file and was astonished to read that the doctor had experimented on women up until three years ago when the last victim he and Nurse Pracket had kidnapped died. At least there weren’t any files after that point.
Inga closed the drawer and looked through the others, finding something that looked like notebooks full of the doctor’s writing. Flipping through one she found what she’d suspected, notes about experiments and reports the doctor had written. Sighing deeply Inga stood up and walked out to the beds. She noticed that one side of the room was dark and moldy smelling. Looking up she saw a pipe had burst and water was still trickling out.
Then the last few remaining lights started to flicker and went out one by one. Inga reached for the flashlight quickly and flicked it on. She jumped back and screamed as a pale white face, the mouth and eye sockets gaping dark holes, flew at her, a shrill scream filling the air. Inga stumbled and fell, throwing her hands over her face to defend herself but nothing happened.
Looking through her fingers Inga saw a woman standing before her, three inches off of the ground. The woman moved and pointed at one of the beds. Inga wanted to run out of the place and dismiss it all as a hallucination but the woman with light-brown hair, dressed only in a hospital gown, looked far too sweet and humble to be a danger. And Inga’s reporter instinct simply wouldn’t let her run away.
Keeping an eye on the apparition Inga moved to the bed, looking at it closely but spotted nothing unusual about it. No hidden compartments or glowing spots, so she looked back at the ghost. The apparition appeared to sit on the bed and Inga joined her. When the woman held her hand out Inga hesitated but then took it. The woman’s hand felt like nothing, no sensation at all but Inga saw the women smile as though she had been comforted just before Inga sank into a blackness so dark she was certain she’d died and this was the blank eternity she suspected death actually was.
Then, out of the darkness, came a pinpoint of light. Inga reached for that light, hoping to pull herself out of the darkness. As the light grew a burning sensation travelled over her body, a sensation that was not pleasant. The sensation took her breath away and no matter how hard she tried she could not scream. The pain, for it was now burning pain, simply would not let her vocal cords work.
Inga tried to move but found her arms and legs were bound to something, something hard and unbending. As Inga’s terror grew she was finally able to see but she wished she couldn’t. Standing behind her was a man, a portly, middle-aged man and a woman that appeared to be enjoying Inga’s torture far too much. The man took something away from Inga’s head but still no matter how hard she tried she could not speak, her lips pursed but words would not come out.
The man patted her wet head and spoke. “Now Joan, you’re fine. You’ll be all better now.”
The world went dark again and Inga wanted to scream, she tried so hard she felt like her throat was tearing because this time the pain was in her abdomen, a tearing cutting pain that went to her very bones. A world of pain and darkness that seemed to never end. For hours Inga floated in that pain, the pain Joan had felt, before the light came back again.
This time she was strapped down to the bed she’d sat down on earlier, the screams and moans of other patients filling her head. No matter what state Joan was in there was torment. The need to escape overwhelmed Joan, and she wanted to retreat to the world she’d created but she’d been injected with something, something to keep her awake and lucid and she could not escape. Her wall divider was moved and then Doctor Nelson was there, surgical tools in hand and Inga’s mind, Joan’s mind, fled but she was brought back with the first jab of a needle into her foot.
“Now Joan, we need you awake for this little experiment, no running away. Now tell me what this feels like.” A sharp instrument was pushed into Joan’s body and then a terrible burning began.
“Fire.” The first words Inga could speak since the ordeal had begun came out in Joan’s voice as the smell of burning flesh filled her nose. Then she passed out and the torment finally stopped.
When Inga woke up the torment had stopped but she felt as though the memory of that pain would never leave her. Like a lingering tattoo that would not fade the pain was there, just under the surface of her skin but if she touched the area the pain would go away. Inga looked around and saw Joan standing over her. She’d caught the name, knew the woman’s memories as she endured the agony of only a fraction of Joan’s ordeals. She knew this woman had possibly been her mother.
“That’s what you experienced?” Inga asked the sad looking woman.
“That was my life. I was left here, with nobody that cared to stop them, to stop my torture. Can you stop them now? That is why you are here isn’t it?” the apparition asked.
“I’m going to try, Joan. I’m going to try.”
“That’s all you can do really. There are videos too, I remember the camera, if you can find the tapes. Please do what you can, there are so many of us here. We are trapped, trapped by his torture. We can’t go until he is stopped. Please help us.”
Inga reached out to touch Joan but the woman disappeared and the night closed in around Inga. Where was her flashlight? Sitting up Inga was overwhelmed with what she’d experienced but she also wanted out of this place. She felt the phone in her back pocket and took it out putting it on flashlight mode. She made her way back to the office, took some of the notebooks out of the desk, and slowly climbed her way out of the hospital. She needed out of this place, now.
Later that evening, back in her hotel and safely tucked into bed after a very hot shower and a late meal, Inga started going through the notebooks. Doctor Nelson had been a very busy man, it seemed. Anne, Joan, and Meg had been his first victims. He’d spent some time settling into the hospital, rising in the ranks and supervising his office, before he’d started looking for space for his experiments. He’d found the space in the sublevels and started to quietly acquisition equipment to stock it with, even spending some of the proceeds of his illicit child-selling to build the office with. By this time he was the only OB-GYN at the hospital and therefore head of that department.
Doctor Nelson had been allowed to do as he pleased, as long as it brought no bad publicity to the hospital and he’d run with the lead. Joan had been his first and favorite victim in the facility but slowly, over the years, he’d brought in the stray women that stopped in or those that had no family to ask questions. Then he’d started using some of his findings from his experiments on patients that came to his office.
Doctor Nelson appointed himself Louisa Falls’ judge and jury over the reproduction in the women of Louisa Falls. Because Doctor Nelson was so very charming and generous with his patients questions were not raised about the death rates of new-borns or the high rate of miscarriages found amongst the poor and people of color within the area.
Doctor Nelson was very careful to cover his tracks when it came to the children he sold. Birth certificates were never issued for those that “died”, nor were death certificates unless one was asked for, and no more mention of the children was made in his records. A careful change of birthdates, for the children he sold, also ensured confusion because the children could not be matched to mothers through their birthdates.
Doctor Nelson induced miscarriages when he felt a woman would not be able to care
for her children without public funds but sometimes, when he needed a cash infusion, he’d let the woman carry to term only to later sell the baby, informing the mother the child had died. In the late 1990s, when the internet became more readily available the doctor slowed down on his side business. Only the wealthiest customers, those that could pay the necessary fees to ensure the tracks were covered, were able to buy their newly born children.
Others, those Doctor Nelson deemed the lowest in life such as the drug addicts, were either sterilized and sent on their way if they had families, or they disappeared if they did not. Only the select few were allowed to have children in Louisa Falls but not a soul questioned it. The birth rate dropped so much the county even shut down the elementary school and middle school, consolidating them with the high school when the economy started to fail to save funds.
The signs were there, Inga saw, but nobody ever questioned it. Perhaps they thought it was just the effects of birth control or people moving away. Inga looked up as she thought about the question, noticing that the sun was starting to come up. She was preparing to go to bed when another thought occurred to her. She’d not seen a death date for Anne.
Thinking about her first day in town, when she’d seen the lonely funeral from her hotel room and walked over to the cemetery, curios about the burial, Inga realized she’d had her first clue that day. The funeral had been for a woman named Kate Owens. Inga had no idea who she was, she hadn’t read that name anywhere yet so she dragged her laptop out again, hoping to find information about Anne.
Anne’s name didn’t return any results for the woman she was looking for so she started looking for Meg. Inga found Meg’s obituary in an online newspaper but it revealed no information about Anne. Inga wondered if this meant Anne was still in town.
Thriller: Emily Page 16
