Forgotten Place (27 page)

There were no trees around the building,
simply a field fenced in by chain link with a single loop of barbed
wire at the top.  "They don't hide the notion of incarceration
in this facility, do they?"

Devlin snorted.  "Maybe during another
era the place was properly secured."  He pointed to the white
crushed rock spread thickly over boggy soil.  A gate stood
wide open.  Anyone with the fortitude to escape wouldn't need
to worry about scaling a fence topped with rusty barbed
wire. 

A long concrete sidewalk connected the
parking lot with the front of the hospital.  It bore evidence
to the poorly chosen construction site.  Deep cracks were
visible where the earth had swelled and shrunken over the
years.  Sharp mountains of concrete peppered the walkway in
irregular intervals.  Between the cracks, more moss and dried
grass covered the soil. 

"Almost pretty in a depressing, desolate
way," Devlin said.  "You ready for this?"

"I'm not sure.  We might catch some
flak for trying to talk to Lowe without counsel present."

"Like you told Dr. Winslow.  We're not
here about his crimes.  This is about what Billy Withers may
or may not have done."

It sounded good in theory.  If Lowe had
been a model patient, we might run into roadblocks thrown up by
those convinced of his innocence.  "Let's see how far we can
get before we have to resort to calling Zack Carpenter.  I'd
really rather not tip our hand in this."

We stepped through the front door, the most
modern thing I'd seen so far, steel fire doors with wired glass
windows, and into the lobby.  The sterility of the room told
me two things.  Dunhaven had no money for things like
comfortable reception seating or paint that wasn't depressing and
putrid, and whoever was running the hospital placed cleanliness on
par with godliness.  There wasn't a speck of dust in the
cavernous lobby.  The two-tone paint, forest green on the
bottom third of the walls and an anemic sea green opposite on the
upper two-thirds of the walls might've been old, but was
pristine.  A few banks of chairs were pressed against the
walls, mostly burgundy upholstery that had been patched with a kit
whose color was not an exact match.

I stepped up to the window that encased a
receptionist of some sort behind more wired glass.  Devlin
tapped his badge against it to draw the attention of the
middle-aged woman sitting behind the counter.

She pushed a pair of glasses up her nose and
depressed a button.  "May I help you?" crackled through the
speaker of the ancient intercom system.

"Detectives Mackenzie and Eriksson here to
speak with someone about access to a patient," he said.

"Name of the patient, please."

"Jerry Lowe," I said.

The hand about to smooth away an errant wisp
of salt-and-pepper from her cheek froze midair.  "Excuse me,
did you just say Jerry Lowe?"

"Yes, ma'am," I gave my most sober
expression in a little staring challenge.  "Right away, if you
don't mind."

"I'll have to get Administrator Sykes to see
you," she said.

"See what I mean?"

Devlin stuffed his badge into the lapel of
his coat.  "I'd like to arrest every last person that so much
as hints at obstructing police work, but I guess that wouldn't fly
with the general public would it?"

"You could always keep shoving them out of
your way," a tiny smirk crept over my lips.  "As I recall,
that's one way of handling the situation."

"I didn't know who you were."

"Just another pesky civilian in the way, eh,
Dev?"

The heavy metal doors behind us buzzed
loudly before the lock could be heard clicking.  A silver
haired man in a three piece suit appeared.  "Detectives?"

Devlin stepped forward.  "Mackenzie and
Eriksson, sir, Downey Division."

"I'm Monte Sykes, hospital
administrator.  How can I help you?"

"I would like very much to speak to Jerry
Lowe," I said.

"Dr. Eriksson, I promise you, the last
person Mr. Lowe will ever consent to see is you.  In fact, he
has made numerous threats against your life since his commitment to
this facility."

"I'm sure he has," I said, "but the matter
I'm here to discuss has nothing to do with the pending litigation
against him."

Sykes perched one hand on his hip. 
"Truly?"

"Completely unrelated to his alleged
crimes," Devlin backed my play and took it a step further. 
"As a matter of fact, Mr. Lowe's extensive knowledge of the history
in Darkwater Bay puts him in a very unique position, Mr.
Sykes.  He could prove helpful, which I'm certain no one in
law enforcement would forget."

"I can ask if he's willing to meet with
you," Sykes said.  "Please come inside and wait in my
office."

When we were alone, I arched one
eyebrow.  "No one in law enforcement would ever forget
this?"

"Hey, it got us through the door.  If
what you said about Lowe was true, I suspect he'd see you no matter
what, Helen.  Sykes was dragging his feet about this. 
Haven't you stopped to ask yourself why?"

"No need.  He doesn't want an angry
lawyer crawling up his ass because he escorted two cops in to meet
his client without legal representation.  We live in a
litigious society.  I'm sure Lowe would love nothing more than
a civil suit to prolong his fifteen minutes of fame."

"True enough."

Five minutes later, Sykes was escorting us
through more nausea green hallways until we reached a locked
unit.  "Mr. Lowe has agreed to meet with you, Dr.
Eriksson.  Alone.  Against my better judgment and in the
presence of staff who witnessed his request, he has also refused to
allow me to contact his attorney."

"Helen, you're not going in there
alone."

"It's all right, Devlin.  Mr. Sykes, is
there a place where Detective Mackenzie can observe the
interview?"

He nodded.  "He won't be able to hear
anything, but he can watch.  Mr. Lowe will be restrained
during your visit.  Given the threats he's made against you,
we felt it would be a prudent measure when he insisted on seeing
you."

"I'd like to see him now," I said.

Hesitation was written all over Devlin's
face.  I stroked his arm with one hand.  "I'll be fine,
Devlin.  This has to be done."

Chapter 24

Jerry Lowe was strapped to a chair with a
leather restraint at the waist and two at the ankles.  His
hands rested loosely on the tabletop.  "Forgive me for not
rising.  They've taken my words of anger and frustration
completely out of context."

I sat across the table from him.  "Did
Mr. Sykes tell you why I'm here?"

"It wouldn't have mattered.  I would've
insisted on seeing you.  How are you recovering from that
horrible incident, Helen?  You look a bit wan."

"Your concern is touching, Jerry.  I'm
recovering nicely, thank you."

"So what urgent business brings you to my
own version of hell?"

I pretended to stare at the table and
drummed my fingers while peeking at Lowe's reaction.  "It's
the oddest thing," I said.  "I'm here about your
predecessor."

"My who?"  Lowe didn't fidget and
looked genuinely confused.

"Harry McNamara of course."

"Oh.  Oh yes.  Harry.  Gosh,
that's been so long ago, I'd almost forgotten about him."

"I understand that you made a rather heroic
effort trying to save his life."

"Anyone would've done the same, truly. 
Harry might've been a doddering old man, but he was a likable
sort.  The men respected him."  Lowe tilted his head to
one side.  "As I recall, Harry died of a massive heart attack
or some such.  Surely you've got better things to do with your
time than investigate death by natural causes, Helen."

"You'd think, wouldn't you, Jerry? 
Unfortunately, it has come to our attention that there were cases
of gross mishandling of the dead after they reached the
morgue.  Since you were around in those days and probably
aren't feeling too kindly disposed toward cloaking the sins of
others in Darkwater Bay, I thought hey... maybe Jerry Lowe could
give me a history lesson on the medical examiner's office in this
county."

He stared for a moment before breaking into
a grin and wagging an index finger at me.  "Ah, you are every
bit as good as they said you were.  You almost got me,
Helen."

"Are you telling me that you bear some sort
of culpability for malpractice at the morgue, Jerry?"

"Not at all, but I figured it would only be
a matter of time before the bitches in this city set out to smear
every man that held the job before them.  I hear Don Weber is
replacing me with some broad from the east coast.  First
Winslow, then you, now another one from your territory.  Folks
are going to start feeling that our homegrown talent isn't good
enough for the politicians in this state."

"An estrogen conspiracy.  You might
have a point, but I don't believe I ever said I planned to make
Darkwater Bay my permanent home, Jerry."

"Really?  I heard you spared no expense
rebuilding in Beach Cliffs."

"Our investigation revealed something
surprising, Jerry.  Were you aware that at one point, one of
the lab technicians was in school studying mortuary science?"

"Surely.  It was no secret.  I
believe it was the favored tech of Maya Winslow.  Billy
Withers if memory serves.  Was the randy old goat abusing the
corpses before sending them off to their final rest?"

I leaned forward.  "You tell me,
Jerry.  There wasn't a thing happening in this city that you
didn't know about.  I suspect there still isn't."

"Billy Withers was authorized to conduct
certain technical procedures on the dead before they left the
morgue.  It was hardly a secret.  Riley Storm encouraged
all the staff who worked for him to try to better themselves if at
all possible."

"So Riley would've known who Billy practiced
on, authorized that type of clinical experience?"

"Authorizing is not the same as supervising,
Helen.  Tsk, tsk for trying to make me say anything bad about
a fine medical examiner like Riley Storm."

"Still, Dr. Storm was ordered by the court
to perform additional testing on at least one victim of a
suspicious death.  I don't believe one instance of alleged
investigatory oversight is a fair example of his skills as a
medical examiner.  If you ask me, Orion probably did that
thing he does so well and Dr. Storm didn't appreciate it."

"Which thing is that?"

"He's overbearing, a know-it-all, pushy,
impatient, dogged to a fault, unreasonable, and not half as clever
as he thinks he is."

"I heard that the two of you have grown
quite close over the past several months.  Odd that you would
enumerate his faults so thoroughly."

"The bit at the press conference
yesterday.  You heard about it?"

"Darling it was practically on the evening
news."

"And a girl does what she must to keep the
enemy off balance.  Tell me, Jerry.  If Orion and I were
truly so close, do you think he'd have let me within ten miles of
you?  It's no secret that you'd like to choke the life out of
me."

He held up his hands in surrender.  "I
don't disagree with any of the insults you cast at him,
Helen.  I'm simply unconvinced that you really believe
them."

"And I'm telling you that he has no idea I'm
here.  So make of that what you will."

"This really isn't about smearing Riley
Storm's good name, is it?"

"We exhumed the body of Harry McNamara."

Lowe nodded slowly.  "And of course,
you found something irregular, or you wouldn't have come to
me.  Why not simply ask Riley what happened?  He's still
in town."

"Considering the animus he feels toward the
city, I dismissed it as an option at this point, because I thought
he would feel that we were condemning all the work he performed for
the county.  Even Dr. Winslow has praised his thoroughness in
the past, Jerry.  Of course, there are those in the city who
would rather turn a blind eye toward problems that don't highlight
things that are on – shall we say – the sanctioned agenda for
prosecution."

"I don't know all the details," Lowe said,
"but I am aware that Riley discovered a problem with Withers' work
and immediately put a stop to his little practice sessions."

"You sound like you knew Dr. Storm
well."

"I liked him," Lowe said.  "I wouldn't
say we were of the caliber of golf buddies or anything like that,
but Riley could be counted upon when circumstances were dire."

"I feel the same way about Dr. Winslow."

"Do tell," Jerry grinned.

"Were you ever injured on the job,
Jerry?  Ever take a bullet for the good guys?"

"I'm afraid that was one experience I never
had."

"It's fortuitous to have a friend with a
prescription pad.  Recovery would be much more difficult
without it."

"Why Helen, if had known this side of you
last spring, things might've been very different.  It seems we
have more in common than I ever imagined.  Yes, I do believe
we might've made an incredible and unstoppable team."

"My estrogen notwithstanding."

"You look Riley up and tell him Jerry sent
you.  If the well dries up with Winslow, Riley will do right
by you."

"Perhaps Riley might be amenable to talking
to me, Jerry.  If the request were to come from someone who
knows I'm only interested in prosecuting the guilty party for what
happened to Harry McNamara, he might not see me as part of the
witch hunt that got him fired."

"I'll see what I can do, Helen, but I want
something from you in return."

"Name it."  I cringed inwardly.

"When this nonsense about my competency
comes up again, I don't want you to testify."