Dead and Gone

by Tina Glasneck

  "I don't know. I just don't know. I'm pretty confused now. We'll see. I will promise you that I won't shut—” Alex was interrupted when Robert and Jack walked into her office. They both had a sense of urgency about them.

  Robert walked over and hugged her for a moment. He could feel how stiff she felt in his arms. He sighed and looked at Jack.

  Françoise said in a rough voice, "We've got to hightail it over to the Pavilion. There's another corpse over there!"

  "My God, now who, Commander?" Nadine asked in a breathless voice. "Is this ever going to stop?"

  "Don't know, Nadine. Josh just paged me again. He said to get over there ASAP. He and Elizabeth are up there and the forensic team is coming."

  Alex looked and felt weary, as she gathered her legal pad and purse. She asked, "Did anyone call Don Montgomery?"

  "I'm not calling the SOB. Let's move!" No one stopped to argue with Françoise.

  40

  The Pavilion was bristling with activity. Once again, the place was crawling with police. Sandy Pilsner met them at the locked door and ushered them in. Sandy announced she was covering for Donna Meade, who was still out from the injuries inflicted on her by Anthony Gavette.

  "Sandy, you just keep showing up like a good penny every time something bad has happened." Alex reached out to hug her.

  Sandy hugged Alex back and said, "Thank goodness for the added security. This place is crazy! All the seclusion rooms are full and the place is finally sort of stable. Let's go back to the community room." Her voice was quiet and subdued, but her high color reflected the intensity of the situation.

  "Who is dead? Tell us, Sandy." Alex's voice sounded desperate as they walked down the hall and entered the community room. She quickly looked around, relieved that only staff she knew were present.

  Josh Martin met them at the community room door. He quietly ushered them into the room. His eyes were strangely bright. He looked pleased, even happy.

  Sandy sat at the head of the table and addressed the group. "At the morning group meeting, Anthony announced that he had a dead body in the closet in the seclusion room. No one really paid any attention to him. He had been locked in seclusion since his attack on Donna. Anyway, he began a long story about how his seclusion room had an elevator in the closet and how someone had come in his room last night. He told us how that someone had been using the seclusion room for his fun house and love nest and how that same someone had raped and killed a female patient earlier this year. One of the nurses remembered the suicide of a young woman in that room late this spring. I began to take notice, so I called Officer Martin here and he and I went with Anthony into the seclusion room. He was right. There is an elevator and the body…"

  "Who the hell is in there?" Françoise’s voice was furious. "Martin, have you secured the scene?"

  Josh nodded and said, "Why don't we just show you, Commander, all of you if you'd like!"

  Alex felt her fear increasing as they walked down the hall, passed the nurse's station, and entered the last seclusion room. Smears of blood were on the floor and the wall.

  Josh moved ahead of the group and opened the closet. There, on the floor, in a pool of blood, hair, and brain matter, was a very dead Lester – Weston – Whitset.

  A pitiful cry came from Alex, as she crammed her fist into her mouth and fainted into Robert and Josh Martin’s arms.

  At the same moment, Donald Montgomery entered the room, screaming and cursing because he hadn't been called immediately. When he saw the dead Whitset, he turned and started upbraiding Jack Françoise for shoddy police work.

  Don's voice was loud and angry. "What the hell, Françoise? Why didn't you find this man last night? What the hell is he doing dead in a closet in my hospital? You and your officers are worthless pieces of shit! How am I ever going to explain this one – to the media, to the board? My own administrator, dead in his own hospital on his own unit. What the hell am I supposed to say?"

  Françoise’s dark eyes gleamed hatefully at the pompous Montgomery. He said in a scathing voice, "I don't really give a shit what you say, Montgomery, but listen to this. Your administrator, whom you hired all by yourself, was an imposter. He wasn't even a hospital administrator. The bastard didn't even have a college degree. What kind of a moron are you?"

  Montgomery looked at Jack with disbelief and said, "Listen, you stupid son of a bitch. Whitset is exactly who he is—”

  Jack grabbed the hospital administrator by the shoulder and shook him as he interrupted Montgomery's tirade. "Listen, you idiot. Lester Whitset was really Weston Whitset. Lester, a bona fide hospital administrator, died years ago, and Weston, a deranged mental patient who spent most of his life confined for aberrant behavior, assumed his identity. He was a rapist and a murderer. Did you check him out, Montgomery, or did you just hire him because he promised to reduce costs?" Françoise paused for a moment, and then continued to go head to head with the red-faced CEO.

  By this time, an audience had gathered outside the room. Françoise continued, completely out of control, his emotional agony unleashed. He said harshly, "By the way, Donald, how big was Whitset's percentage this quarter? What was his bonus for saving costs at the expense of patient care? Thousands of dollars? Talk about incompetent, look in the mirror, you weasel-faced son of a bitch."

  Montgomery was white with anger and unable to speak.

  Françoise was enjoying the scene, but was still angry. He said, "Never mind, you little ingratiating asshole, you don't have to tell me! It's a matter of record that the Times Picayune will be hot to know. You're a cheap, stingy, son of a bitch!" Françoise sneered at the CEO.

  Montgomery was livid with fury. He lunged towards the commander. Josh Martin was about to come to his commander’s defense when Françoise slammed his fist into the administrator's face, cold cocking him onto the floor. A rousing cheer went up from the group.

  Alex completely missed it. When she came to, Robert took her home, where she slept for hours.

  41

  Alex woke up in her bed in a cold sweat, hearing muffled, choking sounds. Where are they coming from? She looked around her darkened room. It's me, she noted. She felt like she was being suffocated. Her body was rigid and heavy. The illuminated dial of the alarm clock next to her bed said 3:00 a.m. At first, Alex's mind was numb and frozen. She felt acute pain in her shoulder as she attempted to roll over. Then, it all came back to her and an agonizing sound came from her mouth as she began to scream.

  Immediately, Robert Bonnet was at her side.

  She continued to cry uncontrollably. Robert attempted to take her into his arms to comfort her, but she resisted, pushing him away forcefully. She turned her body away from him and curled up into a little ball in the fetal position in her bed.

  Robert was desperate. He didn't know what to do. Every effort he made to comfort Alex made him feel increasingly useless. He was tempted to call Nadine Wells for advice, but decided against it. He knew the policewoman had put in the long hours and deserved a good night's rest. After all, she had told him to expect something like this since Alex was in the initial phase of rape trauma syndrome. He tried to remember the things Nadine had told him to expect, but his tired mind refused to let him think back to their conversation. Gradually, Alex’s crying slowed to a muffled sob, and Robert went into the kitchen to make her some hot tea. When he returned to her room with a tray, Alex was sound asleep.

  Robert went back into the kitchen where he sat for several hours, reminiscing over his life with Alex and the tragic events of the past few days. He felt miserable, guilty. He had enough to contend with before, and now he had no idea where it would lead or whether Alex would ever recover. Finally, he returned to bed, depressed and sad.

  He rested fitfully in Alex's beautifully appointed guest room. His mind kept returning to the attack on Alex and Monique. Why hadn't he insisted on going in with Alex when he dropped her off at Monique's house? Why hadn't he sensed the danger? How could he have been so stupid? Robert continued wi
th his self-deprecation until he could think of nothing else to blame himself for. This was all his fault. It was his fault Alex and Monique had been attacked. It was his fault the marriage had ended and that knowledge was utterly painful to him.

  He felt tears jump into his eyes. The dinner he and Alex shared only two nights ago had been so promising. He had begun to think that perhaps Alex would marry him again. Now, they had all of this to work through – the rape, the medical problems with Monique, and Jack's grief. Of course, he had been grappling for months with the thought that he would never be able to operate again. A surgeon without hands, an amputee, that's how he perceived himself. That in itself had caused him to be terribly depressed over the past six months. And now all of this. He could only hope and pray that he could cope.

  Robert checked his watch for the third time in twenty minutes. It was almost six o'clock in the morning. He checked on Alex and she was sleeping peacefully. He then phoned the neuro intensive care unit at CCMC. The nurses reported that Dr. Desmonde was the same, stable but unresponsive. Robert could only guess how Jack was doing and figured he was feeling just as useless as he was. Thank goodness, he wasn't in Jack's position. At least Alex could think and talk, but Monique probably wouldn't ever come out of her coma. She probably wouldn't even wake up. Tomorrow, they would do the first EEG to measure her brainwave activity. He prayed that the swelling had decreased. He wasn't ready to tell Jack they needed to disconnect the ventilator and let her die. Please, Lord, he prayed to himself, don't let that happen.

  Robert returned to the kitchen and made coffee. The annoying feeling in his gut told him he was hungry, but he had no desire to eat. He continued to sit at the table, silently drinking coffee and reminiscing over all the mistakes he had made in his adult life. He only wanted his childhood again, just to be young and carefree. Finally, he was aware that Alex was behind him. He could feel her presence.

  She smiled tentatively at him, touched his shoulder, and asked, "Could you share your coffee with me?"

  He stood immediately, "I can do better than that. I'll let you have your own cup."

  Alex had huge coffee cups, just like the ones Alex's grandmother had in Virginia. Robert removed a brightly decorated porcelain cup from the cabinet, made Alex a cup of coffee in her Keurig, and set it down in front of her with a flourish. He was pleased that she looked so rested and relaxed.

  Alex savored the rich flavor of the New Orleans coffee. She murmured her appreciation, "Mmm, this is good. I feel like I may be human again. Thanks, Robert. Thank you for staying with me and for always being there for me. It means a lot, especially in times like these."

  Robert smiled, feeling a little brighter. Alex looked lovely this morning. Her hair was down and its curly reddish-chestnut color beautifully framed her delicately colored face. Her eyes were clear and blue. There were no signs of tears, dark circles, or fatigue. Only the black eye and the drooping shoulder told of her recent misery.

  He said lightly, "You look rested this morning, Al. You must've gotten some sleep."

  "Yes, I did. I remember awakening during the night and crying. It all came back to me, but I decided that today's another day and we need to move forward. Have you checked on Monique?" Her voice and her face expressed her concern about her friend.

  "Yeah, I have. There's no change. It's still pretty early, Alex," Robert said, noting the crestfallen look on her face. "You know that." His voice was soft, but definitive, as he attempted to comfort her.

  Alex nodded, stirring her coffee. She looked up and asked, "Did Anthony Gavette kill Whitset?"

  Robert nodded. "Yes, he did. Apparently, Whitset had a secret access to the Pavilion. He used the old tunnels that connected the Pavilion to the main hospital building. Most people had totally forgotten they existed. That's how he had been coming and going secretly for months."

  "Wasn't something said before I fainted about his killing a patient in there?"

  "Yep, he did. He told Anthony, who reported it to the psych staff, and it checks out. I talked to Jack last night, who confirmed that a young woman admitted for depression a few months back had committed suicide in the room by slashing her wrists. The staff never knew where she'd gotten the razor. Apparently, Whitset gave it to her – at least, according to Anthony. Or, who knows, perhaps Whitset slashed her wrists and watched her bleed. He seemed to be that crazy."

  "Did he rape her?" Alex asked and continued to stare into her coffee.

  "I don't know. I don't think they can prove that, but Anthony said Whitset told him all about it. I would guess it's probably true. Whitset was a sick man." Robert looked carefully at Alex.

  "Also, Jack seems to think Whitset probably did slash the woman's wrists because there was a bottle of wine and human blood found in his office. They were mixed together. I think forensics is going to type the blood and see if it matches the dead woman's."

  Alex was appalled and her face was disbelieving. "What, you think Whitset bled the woman's wrist into the wine bottle? How disgusting!" She shuddered at the thought.

  Robert nodded. "Yes, grotesque and disgusting. Somehow, he got the blood into the wine bottle. Unbelievable!"

  “Un huh, you bet. Real sick. You're sure he's dead?" Alex's voice was tremulous.

  "Positive. I'm absolutely sure. I saw him."

  Alex looked relieved, "I'm glad. Very glad. I guess that's not the best way to feel, but I'm glad he is dead”.

  Robert reached for her hand. "I think it's a very honest and appropriate way to feel. I feel the same way."

  "Good," Alex said brightly. "I feel vindicated, and I'm hungry. Let's eat. What should we have?"

  "I'll cook, you get dressed. You know that breakfast is the only meal I can make." Robert paused for a moment and said with a smile on his face, "By the way, Alex, do you remember what Jack did to Montgomery?"

  Alex looked confused. "What Jack did to Don? No, I don't think so."

  Delight was written all over Robert's face as he told her, "He cold-cocked him! Knocked the hell out of him! It was great!"

  Alex burst into laughter. "You're kidding! When?"

  "Yesterday, just after you fainted. I wanted to take a picture with my iPhone, but didn't. Everyone standing around gave Françoise a huge cheer!"

  Alex continued to laugh. "I'm sorry I missed it. Jack's been dying to do that for a long time and Montgomery finally pushed him over the edge. I just wish I'd seen it." She was interrupted by the phone.

  Robert answered and said, "Speak of the devil." It was Jack. They talked for several moments. Robert gave a delightful war whoop and hung up the phone. He was smiling a huge smile.

  "Robert, what is it? What did he say?" Alex's voice was excited, inpatient.

  "Jack swears that Monique just squeezed his hand. He swears she can hear him. He said she opened her eyes!" Robert was ecstatic.

  "What do the nurses say? Do you think Jack could've imagined it?" Alex felt hopeful but looked uncertain.

  Robert stared at her and said firmly, "No. If Jack saw Monique with her eyes open and felt her squeeze his hand, then it happened."

  Alex smiled happily, "Let's hurry up and eat. I want to go see for myself."

  "Me, too. Get dressed and we’ll eat in a hurry. Jack also wants to give us the final information about Whitset before he closes the case."

  Alex felt her happiness ebb away and felt fear engulf her. He must have the results of my lab reports, she thought to herself. At least I'll know. Then, she remembered. Well, maybe I will know something.

  The couple ate a quick breakfast and hurried to the hospital. They found Jack in the waiting room outside the intensive care unit. He looked forlorn, exhausted, and gloomy. His face brightened when he saw Robert and Alex.

  "That damned doctor who operated told me there was no way Monique squeezed my hand. He said her brain is too swollen for her to do anything like that."

  Alex felt her heart sink. She looked for reassurance. She walked over and gave Jack a huge hug.

 
Robert said to Jack, "If you felt her squeeze your hand, then she squeezed your hand." Robert reassured him with a smile. "I'm going to go look in on her." Robert was mentally cursing the neurosurgeon. What a bastard the man was; but that being said, he was a great neurosurgeon.

  "I'm going to go, too. The hell with that man. How about you, Alex? By the way, you look mighty good today." Jack leaned over, hugged her again, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  Alex turned towards him and winced as her shoulder reminded her it was broken, smiled, and once again returned the hug offered by the thickset, kindhearted police commander. She whispered clandestinely, "I heard you knocked out my boss!"

  Commander Françoise’s eyes lit up and he smiled from ear to ear. "You’re damned right, I did, Al. I would have kept hitting the son of a bitch if Josh Martin hadn't stopped me. Little prick has had it coming for months…"

  "Probably all of his life," Alex surmised.

  42

  Alex had a hard time controlling her emotions when she looked down at Monique Desmonde. She had forgotten how horrible craniotomy patients looked after surgery. Monique's eyes were both black and her face was swollen. She wasn't recognizable. Alex managed to keep herself together, but felt her heart sink as she heard Jack talking softly to her. She also began to talk to Monique. But there was no response. Monique seemed to be in a deep coma. Alex was beginning to doubt what Jack had seen. She looked over and saw Robert reviewing Monique's chart. He shook his head at Alex and came to the bedside.

  Robert and Alex stood quietly looking at Monique.

  Jack continued to hold her hand and talk to her. Finally, he said, "Well, she ain't talkin' now, but that doesn't mean she won't wake up a little later, right, Robert?"

  "That's right, Jack. Let's go." Robert's voice was gentle.

  "Nah, I'm staying a while longer. Can we meet in your office later this morning, Alex? I'll have everything by then and I'll give you both the finals. Nadine's coming at 10 o'clock." Jack looked sad.