by Robin Mahle
“There was something that I couldn’t shake last night,” Kate began. “When I spoke to the ex-girlfriend, Holly, she said she had talked to Bishop earlier the day before and we traced the call back to the bus depot in Charlotte.”
“Which was how we discovered he was going to Raleigh,” Walsh added.
“Right. But then we discover he’d been there a full two days earlier? I don’t see how that was possible. Where was the disconnect and how can we figure out how this happened?”
Fisher nodded. “I’m not sure it’s relevant at this point…”
“It’s completely relevant,” Kate interrupted. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to contradict you, but someone went through a lot of trouble to help Bishop evade us. Frankly, I’m surprised all the evidence showing Bishop had purchased a ticket to Mexico wasn’t erased. Why leave that detail? Why tell us where he was going, but erase the when?”
“All I can say to that is, erasing the entire record of his purchase, deleting the scan; that might’ve been too difficult for whoever could’ve pulled off something like that,” Walsh replied. “Maybe the best they could do was to throw us off his scent. Give Bishop enough time to make his move.”
“For the sake of argument, say Reid is right. Someone intervened and helped Bishop get into Mexico. Reid and Walsh did the legwork. You both talked to his former classmates, co-workers. Was there anyone you came across who you believe helped him escape?” Nick asked.
Kate looked at Walsh. “Not that I could tell. You?”
“It was odd that most of the people in a position of authority over Bishop swept his wrongdoings under the rug,” Walsh added. “But from what we discovered, no one wanted to face lawsuits. Pretty typical behavior, I’d say.”
“Where does that leave us, then?” Duncan added. “Who helped him and where do we start to figure that out?”
“We have stacks of consult requests, we need to replace a team member, and I just don’t think spending any more of our resources on something that can be handled by another office is what we should be doing.” Fisher sighed. “I get it. I was a detective for a lot of years. I hated to walk away from an unsolved case. God knows I still do. But this isn’t going cold. It’s being transferred. You did your job. We all did our jobs. It’s time to move on.” Fisher stood. “With that, I’ll get the ball rolling with the office in Mexico City. I’ll ask that you all submit your relevant case files and any reports so that I can send them over, including the Oakview and Riverside ME reports on their victims. They’ll need everything we have to build their own case file.”
“Will we be able to assist them, should they ask?” Kate said.
“Of course.” Fisher started to leave.
Nick stood up and turned to Kate. “I’m going to go talk to him.” He followed Fisher into the hall. “Hey, can we sit down in your office for a minute?”
Fisher studied him before answering. “Sure.”
They walked into Fisher’s office and Nick closed the door.
“What is it you want to talk about? I’ve made the decision, Scarborough.”
“I know you have.” Nick pulled out a chair. “But I have to agree with Reid.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Fisher looked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Go on.”
“No, you’re right. I do tend to back her up because I believe she’s right. Look, I’ve worked with Reid for enough years to know when she gets a wild hair, it’s for a damn good reason.”
“What do you want me to do? We can’t just take over an investigation. You know that. If the Mexico City office needs our help, then great. I’m all for that. But let them do their jobs. It’s what we would expect, isn’t it?”
“What if we can run on some aspects here on our end? The case did start with us,” Nick said.
“It started with Palmero in Houston,” Fisher replied.
“And Palmero still has a suspect out there. There was a disconnect somewhere. Reid was right about that. I think you can see it too.”
“You always come to her defense,” Fisher said.
“I’ll jump to the defense of anyone on this team if I think they’re in the right, including you, despite what you might think.”
Fisher shook his head. “I’m just not sure what direction to take and I feel like you’re always so very sure. Maybe I’m doing something wrong. Maybe I’m not cut out for this job.”
“You are, Fisher. I would never doubt that. I can’t say I’m happy about what happened, but it sure as hell wasn’t your fault. You know, maybe it should have been you all along. I think Cole turned to me because I had a few high-profile cases under my belt.”
“Because of Reid.”
“Yeah, because of Reid,” Nick said. “But it’s your show now. All I’m asking is that you don’t dismiss what she’s capable of. I know you’ve seen it yourself. She has a lot to learn, but damn if she doesn’t pick up on the shit that we miss.”
Fisher appeared to think on the matter. “I can’t have her rattling cages. The guys in Mexico City answer to HQ, not us. If they get the sense that Reid is working on this without their consent, Cole will hear about it. There’s a way to do this and make it look like it’s all for those guys there, you understand?”
“I get it. I know she’ll want Walsh in on it because of the groundwork they both did,” Nick said.
Fisher nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll do what I can to help but nothing we currently have can fall through the cracks.”
“Understood.”
Kate was in her office with Walsh when Nick appeared. “Just the people I wanted to see.” He walked inside.
“We were just discussing our options,” Walsh said.
“I figured that might be the case. I just spoke to Fisher and he agreed that you both should move forward on the concern that Bishop might have help here in the US.”
Kate glanced at Walsh with noted surprise and returned to Nick. “Well, I’m glad he listens to you.”
“It didn’t have anything to do with me. It had everything to do with the fact that he has faith in you. Both of you. As long as you don’t start poking around in the Mexico City office without them asking for help, then you have the opening you need to find out what the hell happened and how we lost Bishop.”
“What about Duncan? We’ll need everyone on this,” Walsh said. “We’re still a team.”
“We are. Like I said, do what you have to do. If Duncan needs to play a role, then so be it. Just keep this quiet. Do your jobs.” Nick stood up to leave. “And find that son of a bitch.”
Walsh waited for Nick to be out of earshot before he looked back at Kate. “Despite all the bullshit that has gone down since we got back from Rio, Scarborough’s still a hell of a leader. Nothing against Fisher, but when it comes to listening to your team, he’ll no doubt give you the rope you need.”
Kate smiled. “So long as we don’t hang ourselves with it. Where do you want to start?”
“You’re the one with the hunch. You tell me,” Walsh replied.
“Okay. I see where this is headed,” Kate smiled. “The first thing I’d like to know is how the hell we lost two days? Your contact found a match to the fake passport Bishop used, but yet it was delayed.”
“I can reach out to him and try to get clarification, but I would assume there was a lag in the reporting. I imagine it must happen on occasion. I can’t say for sure, but it’s something I can follow up on.”
“Okay. Then we have Holly. She waited almost a full day before contacting us and that might have been only because we had talked to her now-boyfriend and then she saw something on the news. Which, by the way, I find incredibly interesting that she would be dating the same man who had reported Bishop’s behavior to his higher-ups.”
“Not to mention Holly insisted Bishop was trying to poison her,” Walsh said. “I wonder if that means he’d discovered something about her. Something like she was cheating on him with this other doctor?”
“That’s a possibi
lity. More importantly, is that if she suspected he was trying to kill her, why not report it to the authorities?” Kate pressed on.
“I can’t answer that. I would suggest it warrants another conversation with Holly, though. Do you want to run on that while I follow up with my guy on the passport?”
“It’s a good start, yes.” She watched as Walsh stood up and prepared to leave. “Hey, Levi?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for believing in me.”
“It would be the same if the shoe was on the other foot.”
“You know it.” She smiled as he left her office.
It should have come as no surprise to Kate that Nick had convinced Fisher to go along with her theory. It made all kinds of sense to her, but this morning’s meeting confirmed she hadn’t been able to convince Fisher, but Nick had. There was no denying he always believed in her and right from the very start. Walsh was right. Nick was a good leader. He listened to his team. Fisher seemed to shy away from going against the grain and perhaps that was because it was still early days. He was still finding his footing.
However, there was no mistaking that what Nick had done, he had done for her. If it helped the investigation, then all the better. But Kate knew he was making up for his past mistake. A mistake she’d begun to see as a lapse in judgment from an otherwise talented agent who could work a case like no one she had ever seen.
It had taken Kate years to learn to forgive. It started with a lie from desperate parents willing to do anything to keep their daughter from finding out who she was. She’d forgiven them for doing something far more egregious than Nick had ever or likely would ever do. Yet she had, thus far, been unwilling to forgive him for falling back on a vice that had become his disease. No one had been harmed by his actions. Maybe it was time Kate forgave him because as it stood right now, he might not be willing to wait much longer.
Now that Kate had been given a green light, it was time to make a move. There had to be more to Dr. Theodore Bishop than what she already knew. Too many people had looked the other way where he had been concerned and she questioned whether it was due to a fear of lawsuits or a fear of something or someone else.
To know where to start, Kate would have to start at the beginning. Family. Somehow, in her experience, it always came down to family. Whether it be parents or siblings or a distant uncle, most of the killers she had profiled so far had violence or sociopathic behavior rooted in their family history. It was time to find Bishop’s. They knew who he was. She needed to know why he was. From there, she could piece together where he might be now.
The work they had done to date on Bishop’s family included a mother who lived in Providence and a father who passed away when Bishop was a teenager. She knew of no siblings but hadn’t looked into the possibility of aunts or uncles or even cousins. It hadn’t mattered to her at the time, but it mattered now. Nothing could be overlooked, including whatever role the ex-girlfriend, Holly, might have played.
“Hey.” Duncan walked into Kate’s office. “I heard you got the go-ahead to follow up on Bishop.”
“It seems Fisher had a change of heart. In fact, I was just about to start looking into Bishop’s family ties.”
Duncan continued inside and sat down. “Didn’t we already go down that road?”
“I think we made it about a quarter of the way. I want to finish the trip.” She studied Duncan for a moment. “What do you have on your plate right now?”
“I’m cleaning up. Tying loose ends with the Riverside field office and gathering the witness statements to hand over to Mexico City. Why?”
“I could use an extra hand if you’re interested,” Kate replied.
“Interested? Nah,” Duncan swatted away the notion. “Determined to find Bishop? Hell yes.”
Kate smiled. “I thought so. Here’s where I’d like to start.”
Bishop pulled down his baseball hat and stepped off the bus. His bag was slung over his right shoulder and as he stepped down, it caught the arm of another. “Sorry about that.” He looked at the man.
“It’s okay.” The man spoke with a heavy Central-Mexican accent and he seemed to let his eyes linger on Bishop for longer than necessary.
Bishop cast down his eyes and moved on.
It was time to find a place to put his head down. The long journey was over after spending two days on three buses to get here. Now it was almost midnight and he needed to find a room that was off the beaten path.
Bishop hailed a cab. “Habla Inglés? Cheap hotel?”
“Cheap, ah si; barato.” The driver pulled onto the road and started into the city.
From what Bishop could tell so far, there weren’t a lot of English-speakers here and this would present a problem for him as he spoke virtually no Spanish.
Several miles from the bus terminal, the driver stopped at what looked to be a cheap hotel. Maybe more rundown than Bishop had expected, but the upside was that it was probably very inexpensive. He had exchanged his money to Pesos and held some in his hand.
“265, señor.”
Bishop counted the money carefully to ensure he didn’t hand over more than required. He had no idea if he’d been screwed over or if the fare had been reasonable. There was no time to debate. He needed to get out of sight and the fewer people he made an impression with, the better. “Here you go. Gracias.” Bishop stepped out of the cab and approached the entrance to the hotel. It was a 5-story building with a chipped peach-colored stucco exterior in need of a power wash.
He walked inside and approached a woman behind the desk. “Uno night, uh, Uno—uh, what’s the word for night?”
“Noche,” the woman responded. “I speak English. One night?”
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
She typed on an old computer and turned to grab a key from the wall of keys behind her. “Room 358. Stairs are to your right. Check out is 11am.”
“Gracias.” Bishop made his way to the stairs and walked up to the third floor. The narrow corridor was lined with stained teal carpet and dingy orange walls. Florescent lights were mounted on the ceiling and cast down a sickly glow as he walked to room 358. Bishop had grown accustomed to living a lifestyle suited for the more downtrodden. However, on his own, after losing his medical license and trying to stay off the radar, he’d learned to adopt a meager way of life. It wasn’t like EMTs made a fortune either. Some did all right, but in the grand scheme of things, it was nothing compared to that of a doctor. But there were more important things for Bishop than money.
He inserted the key and opened the door to a waft of stale air that smelled of smoke and booze. Something that never appealed to him. Drugs, alcohol, smoking. It all dulled his senses and Bishop needed to stay sharp at all times.
He tossed his bag onto the bed and pushed off his shoes. An old 19-inch television sat on top of a dresser that looked as though it could scarcely handle the weight. Bishop pushed a button on the TV to turn it on. There appeared to be no remote.
It flickered on and he switched over the channels. All the stations were in Spanish and none appeared to be news related. Bishop walked to the window and peered through the heavy green curtains at the street below. Several people walked by, some lay on the sidewalk, probably homeless and some were women, likely prostitutes. It was legal in Mexico City as well as in many states in the country.
He looked at one of the women leaning against a light post. From this distance, she appeared attractive enough. However, Theodore Bishop wasn’t the type of man who enjoyed what other men enjoyed. His sexuality was never that important to him. And when Holly eventually figured that out, she called him on it. It was then Bishop realized she would never understand the type of man he was. It had been the source of many arguments.
Bishop let the curtain fall again and he returned to the bed and dropped down. As he closed his eyes, he recalled the exuberance he felt injecting the poison into his co-worker’s neck. The shocked expression he revealed. The recognition that no one was going to s
ave him. That was what brought Theodore Bishop the excitement he needed. It worked every time.
21
Theodore Bishop was born to Dr. Eugene and Carol Bishop in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania in 1988. A few years later, Dr. Eugene Bishop served overseas and upon returning home, the family pulled up roots and moved to Rhode Island. They resided in an upper-class neighborhood where the homes were miniature mansions hidden behind gated driveways.
Theodore Bishop was living a life in direct contrast to his upbringing. He’d lost his medical license, got certified as an EMT and continued to live essentially paycheck to paycheck.
So how was it that a man of little means managed to allude the NSA and the FBI? Not to mention that his entire career, which had been plagued by suspicious activity, he also came out unscathed? The question of how or why he lost his license still loomed.
There was only one answer for Kate. Someone was looking out for Bishop. It was unclear at this point if Bishop was aware of it, but there was no doubt in Kate’s mind that someone continually cleared a path for Bishop to allow him to do the things he wanted to do and had done for his entire adult life.
She knew the father, Eugene Bishop, had been the Chief of Surgery at Our Lady of Mercy, the very same hospital where his son served his residency. She and Walsh had already spoken to the doctor who had worked with Bishop, who also happened to be in a relationship with Bishop’s ex-girlfriend, Holly.
Kate searched the database records to discover that Eugene Bishop died when Theodore was 16 years old. An apparent heart attack at the age of 45 while he was heading up the surgical department at the hospital.
In her continued search, she discovered that Bishop’s mother, Carol, remarried three years later to another doctor. “Robert Whitman.” She peered at the monitor and searched the database for details on Dr. Whitman. “You gotta be kidding me?” Kate examined the information. “Chief of Surgery at Our Lady of Mercy from 2004 through 2010. She married the man who replaced her husband.” Kate peered around and quickly realized she was talking to herself again.
