Authors: Steven James
Who could do that? A social worker? A doctor? A counselor?
Or a police officer.
I told Gabriele, “And find out who the responding officer was at the accident.”
A pause. “The responding officer? You think our guy is a cop?”
“Just do it. And locate Thompson. I’ll stay on the phone. Is there any word on the victim from the slaughterhouse? Who she is?”
“Not yet. But we’re looking into it.”
“Where’s Basque?”
“Should be there at the hospital by now. Ellen and Lyrie are guarding him. Ralph is on his way.”
“Okay, radio Thompson and pull those accident reports ASAP.”
I asked the nurse at the desk where Basque’s room was and she looked it up while I waited for Gabriele to get back on the line.
Joshua arrived at the hospital.
It wasn’t hard for a man with his credentials to find out where they were treating the suspect from the homicide in the slaughterhouse, and after swinging by the admissions desk, he learned Basque was one building over in the trauma center next to the Flight for Life landing pad.
He started across the parking lot, then had a second thought, retrieved one of the needles with the tranquilizer from his car, and continued on to the building.
The nurse informed me that Basque was only two hallways over.
Good. I could head there in a minute, after I heard from Gabriele.
Someone from the station must have called ahead to tell Taci that I was being brought here, because, as I was waiting for Gabriele to give me an update, she came hurrying down the hall, flanked by two doctors.
“Pat!” She rushed to me. “Lieutenant Thorne called me, told me what happened. Are you okay? How’s your shoulder? Your leg?” There was deep concern in her voice, no trace of the awkwardness from yesterday morning when she’d told me she loved her job more than she loved me.
“I’m okay. Thanks for being here.”
“Of course.”
Seeing her in her element here, I knew it really would have torn her up to be with me, that it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay in a relationship if she wasn’t able to give it what she felt she needed to.
Truly loving her, Pat, it’s going to mean letting her go.
It was hard to process all that with everything else going on.
Come on, Gabriele, hurry!
“We need to get you to an exam room,” Taci said emphatically.
“Yes, Detective,” one of the doctors told me. “We need to have a look at that shoulder.”
“And that leg,” the other added.
Taci took my hand and it felt both awkward and familiar at the same time, but I didn’t pull away.
Gabriele was still on another line.
“Just a sec,” I told them.
Hospitals don’t have metal detectors, don’t pat people down as they come through the door, so Joshua knew that getting his necrotome into the building wouldn’t be a problem. He went in a side door, showed his identification to the receptionist stationed behind a small window. “I was called in. They want me to talk with the man they brought in from the slaughterhouse. Richard Basque.”
“I think they’re getting ready to take him into surgery now. There are some officers with him.”
“Good. What room is he in?”
She told him, pointed toward the correct hallway, he thanked her and left for the room.
Facts spun through my mind.
Colleen worked for Basque and she was the first victim in this crime spree. If the offenders weren’t working together, she could have been how their lives interconnected.
The cases are linked through her.
Two cases.
Two offenders.
One interconnected puzzle.
Someone donated that money to that mission. Someone picked up those mattresses.
The abductor knew the woods, had to have spent time in that neighborhood. The mission…
Deep in thought, I glanced past Taci and saw the sign to the hospital’s chapel just down the hall.
And then, the facts of the case began to reshuffle themselves before me all over again and everything I’d thought was true turned on its head.
We needed a person who could have met Adele here in the hospital after her car accident and would also have been able to get into the school.
My eyes were still on the sign to the chapel.
When Colleen was brought to the hospital, she had a rosary with her—which meant she would have had it with her when she was left by the pier. And that meant the killer would’ve known she had it, could have easily guessed that she was Catholic.
When you were arresting Vincent, he said Colleen’s abductor mentioned last rites.
Oh yes.
I had it, or I thought I did.
“Taci, grab that phone book.”
She did and I flipped to the right page.
If our guy was the person I was thinking of, he would have known to switch the plates, been at enough crime scenes to know how to frustrate the investigation.
He has a portable phone—
He knows Radar, wouldn’t have stuck out at the department when he dropped off the package.
Switching to another line, I punched in the number for the West Reagan Street Mission. I had to know if this guy ever volunteered there. If he did, it would fit, it would all make sense.
Who would think to mention last rites to a Catholic like that? Only someone who—
The mission’s director, Reverend Tate, picked up and confirmed what I was thinking. “Yes, of course. He comes in every Friday night. He was here earlier today, as a matter of fact. For a funeral we had.”
That was it. That’s how he disappeared into the neighborhood after fleeing from the train yards. The people knew him from his work at the mission. He wouldn’t have stuck out or drawn attention to himself at the funeral either.
No, he wasn’t a cop or a doctor.
Who else could have convinced the secretary at the school to let him see the Walker children?
A minister.
I saw the other line blinking and when I pressed the button, Gabriele came on again. “Pat, we’ve got the name of the victim. You’re not going to—”
“Our chaplain…” Honestly, I was still caught up in my thoughts about the kidnapper. “It’s Padilla.”
“Yes.” Gabriele sounded shocked. “How did you know?”
That got my attention. “What?”
“The victim. Sylvia Padilla, she’s the police chaplain’s wife. How did you know it was her?”
Oh no.
Basque had killed Joshua’s wife. It was all tied together in one intricate web.
If Padilla finds out, he’ll come after Basque. You know he will.
“Call Reverend Padilla. Find him.” I let the phone drop and hobbled away from the counter. “If Agent Hawkins gets here,” I shouted over my shoulder, “send him to Basque’s room right away.”
I told Taci and the doctors to stay there and, as fast as my injured leg would take me, I rushed toward Richard Basque’s hospital room.
99
Reverend Joshua Padilla knew the officer who was stationed outside Basque’s door: Lyrie. He’d counseled him after he’d shot a gang member last year.
“Thorne told me I’m supposed to go in,” he said to Lyrie. “Talk to him. Before his surgery.”
“Why?”
“I guess he asked for me while he was at the slaughterhouse.”
“I’m not authorized to—”
“You know it’s protocol to let spiritual advisers speak with victims and injured suspects.”
“Yeah.” Lyrie rubbed his head. “Alright, look, there’s an FBI agent in there. Parker. The guy’s strapped to the bed. But she stays in the room.”
“I’m supposed to meet with people confidentially.”
“She stays, Padre.”
The tranquilizer. Use it if you need to. Get in, meet Basque, then get out.
“Alright.”
I heard heavy footsteps pounding around the corner behind me.
I looked back.
Ralph.
“Radio Ellen,” I called to him. “She’s at the room!”
He was quickly catching up with me. “I tried already. There’s interference here in the hospital.”
“Then let’s move.”
One hallway to go.
Lyrie introduced Joshua to Special Agent Parker and then left the room.