Silver Lining - A Carpelli Adventure: Sequel To The Bestselling Thriller Fatal Mistake (13 page)

“As soon as we have it in writing, you get the tapes,” I insisted.

“I’ll call for the techs to get out here a.s.a.p., okay?” Agent Merriman, caved in. “Where can we find you two later today?”

“We’ll be around. You can get us on my cell phone.”

“I know I don’t have to say this but I will anyway. Be careful. Don’t push these guy’s too hard or too fast. Play it cool and let them do all the talking. Don’t give them an excuse to kill you.” Agent Greene counseled.

“Just then Agent Merriman’s cell phone rang and he answered it, in hushed tones. Upon hanging up he turned to Doctor Anne and asked is there another way out of here?”

“Don’t tell me, you have someone outside and they spotted Kelly and Washington coming our way?” Doctor Anne sarcastically snapped at the two FBI men.

“I’m afraid that’s exactly what is happening. So how do we leave without passing them in the hallway?” Agent Merriman asked a second time.

“Okay, but you’ll have to go quickly, out the door turn right, at first hallway, turn left, go down the hall to the third hallway, then turn left again. Follow that hallway to the doors that lead outside. You’ll see that you’re on the back side of the building and you’ll have to walk around to the parking lot.” Doctor Anne explained. The two FBI men looked outside into the hall. No one was there yet. Without another word they left, following Doctor Anne’s instructions.

I was flabbergasted by her telling them how to get out of here, I confronted her. “Why wouldn’t you tell me how to avoid them yesterday?”

“Because you were in the back room and they were already here. You would have had to go past them. Besides I like you and I don’t like them.” Doctor Anne stated, as if I should have known that. “Now go and hide in the back room again. They’ll be here in a moment.”

Just like the day before, I hid in the backroom, the old autopsy theater. The gurney was in the same place as yesterday and the old cold chamber was still there as well. God, I hope these assholes don’t check in here again today. No sooner than I had slipped into the backroom and the door stopped moving, than in strolled Kelly and Washington.

“Good Morning, Doctor.” Kelly chirped as he and Washington stepped into the Autopsy Theater. Kelly’s eyes went straight to the doors I was hiding behind. I quickly found my way back inside the cold storage chamber.

“Look, I told you yesterday, I’m stuck until the other doctor releases the body to me. Coming here and harassing me, isn’t going to make it happen any faster.” Doctor Anne snapped at them.

“Doctor, we bring good news.” Kelly[‘ face was lit up with a smile. “Doctor Stiversen has agreed to recues himself from the autopsy and turn it over to you,” Kelly shared.

“Isn’t that special. I still need the paperwork, before I can actually do anything. Did he say when he’d be in to actually fill out the form and sign it?” she asked condescendingly.

“I don’t think she believes us.” Washington stated, as he slowly circled about the room. I got out of the cold chamber and crept back up by the door. “I think, she thinks, she has some sort of say in what goes down in regards to us. Maybe, I should show her that she needs to treat us, more respectfully.”

“Not right this moment, my friend. Go check out the backroom, we need to conduct a little business.”

Washington was across the room from the doors so I only had a second or two before he would be here in the room with me. I hastily slipped back into the cold chamber again and once more fought back all of the demons of claustrophobia. I lay there silent, holding the door held tightly closed with my left hand, while I held my gun in my right hand in case Washington or anyone tried to yank the door open.

Washington did less today than he had yesterday. He peaked into the room which looked exactly as it had yesterday, turned around without even turning on the light or looking behind the gurney. As he turned back towards Doctor Anne he asked.

“Don’t you get lonely around here, having no one but the dead to talk to, Doc?”

“I find them better company than most of the living.” Doctor Anne sarcastically responded.

“Yeah, a lot of the people we meet would be better off dead, as well.” Washington replied straight faced.

“Doc, we need the preliminary form right away.” Kelly stated, bring their reason for being here, back in focus.

“It’s like I just told you, Detective. Until I get the signed form, there’s nothing I can do for you.” Doctor Anne stated loudly. Then while she continued talking, she wrote down a message, explaining the FBI were just here and that the guy, me, was in the back room again. “I can’t look at the body without committing a serious breach in procedure and ethic’s, until I have both the recusal form and the reassign form, I am stuck.” Doctor Anne was doing all she could to stall them.

“Doc, I heard what you said,” Kelly stated after reading the note she wrote. “But you’re not listening to me. I have to have it now. Right now. So, get the damn form out your drawer, fill it out and worry about what the body is saying, some other time. Am I making myself clear?” Kelly asked as Washington hovered nearby, trying to be as intimidating as possible.

“I can make the instructions clearer, if you’d like, Doc,” Washington offered, as he flexed his hands and leered at Doctor Anne.

“I understand perfectly well what you’re asking of me, but what you do not comprehend, is that I don’t have access to information I need to put on the form. Things like case numbers, cue number, year to date numbers.” Doctor Anne began speaking in a condescending tone which Kelly picked up right away and nodded to Washington.

In a flash, Washington was on her. He had her by the scruff of the neck and he slammed her head down onto the desk top. I pulled my gun and prepared to interject myself, if he did it again or anything else for that matter. I kept track of where Kelly was, while watching Washington for any further violent outbursts.

“Doc, this is all so unnecessary. Just fill out the damn form and fake the numbers. While you’re at it, fake the whole damn thing. Once you have the body we’ll come back and get a real form to take the fake one’s place in the file, but I’ve got to have it now. Get the form out and I’ll tell you exactly what to say,” Kelly informed her, as Washington released her and stepped away a few feet.

Doctor Anne slowly pulled the drawer on the bottom right open, reached in and pulled out a form. She placed it on the desk and picked up her pen.

“What was the subjects name again?” Doctor Anne asked.

“You’re slipping, Doc,” Kelly remarked.

“That’s what banging your head can do to you,” She retorted.

“Then you should be more careful,” Kelly suggested.

“Fuck you and the horse you road in on,” Doctor Anne snarled.

“Now, now Doc, you don’t want to see what we’re like when we get our feelings hurt now do you?” Washington snarled.

“What’s the fucking name?” Doctor Anne barked.

“Edward Holston,” Kelly barked back.

“When was he killed?”

“Yesterday.”

“What did you want the preliminary findings to be?”

“He was murdered by someone standing to his right within two feet, with a hand gun, a nine mil. The victim suffered a chest wound and bled out at the scene. You suspect an artery was severed by the bullet. Now, put your official stamp on it and we can get on with our jobs of framing the innocent, so the rich and powerful, can continue to be rich and powerful.” Kelly instructed. Doctor Anne reached into her center top desk drawer to retrieve her stamp. When she did so Washington stepped up behind her and peered over her shoulder.

“What the fuck is that?” Washington snarled and grabbed for the recorder which was exposed as the Doc had reached for her stamp.

“Get away from my autopsy supplies.” She snarled as she slammed home the drawer as hard as she could. Washington then shoved her and her chair over on to the floor, to gain access to her desk.

“Washington, forget about it.” Kelly called out to Washington, just as he grabbed the drawer and yanked it open.

“She’s got a damn recorder in the drawer.” Washington informed Kelly, who just stood there shaking his head.

“Dude, forget about it. She has to record her autopsies by law.” Washington pulling it out of the drawer anyway and was about to smash it when Kelly snapped at him. “Wash stop fucking around and put it back. She is required by law to record the autopsy. If you break it our autopsy may be delayed while she gets approval for a new one and then for the price of a new one, so set it down and let’s go.”

“I’m telling you, she’s recording us.” Washington snapped.

“Are any of the buttons pushed down or in?” Kelly asked.

“No,” Washington answered in a mere whisper, as he studied the buttons on the machine.

“Are either of the two little wheels, inside the little window, spinning?” Kelly then asked and it was clear who the brains of the outfit was and who provided the muscle for the heavy lifting.

“Ah… no.” Washington answered sheepishly.

“Then sit it down and help the doctor up. Be sure to apologize.” Kelly admonished his partner, who grabbed the Doctor by the arm and yanked her to her feet.

“Sorry, Doc.” Washington mumbled

“Thanks Doc, as usual the pleasure is all ours and I’ll be back to switch forms in a few days.” Kelly uttered over his shoulder as he and Washington left. As soon as the door had closed, Doctor Anne went over and locked it. I raced out of the back room.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“I’m fine. But just when were you going to come to my rescue? After they had killed me?” She wasn’t happy.

“It’s a fine line between rescue and putting you in more jeopardy. If I had come in, the whole case against them would have went out the window and I probably would had to kill them, to keep you and me alive. But I was coming, just as soon as Washington did anymore in regards to you. By the way, where is my tape recorder?” I inquired.

“It’s in the second drawer down with the micro phone setting on the desk top right in front of them. Kelly may have seen it but mistakenly believed the microphone was for my Autopsy Reports.” Doctor Anne shared.

“So we did record everything they said?” I queried.

“Yes, we did. We got every last word.”

“We’ve got some really good stuff there, Doc. I think it’s enough to hang them but the feds will want some more to go with it. You know establish a pattern and clear intent to do wrong. You did great by the way.” I offered her a compliment, as I switched out the tape for a new one, I had in my pocket.

“Well, I do this every day. Have you any word on my son yet?” She asked.

“I stopped by one of his dealers last night. He claimed he hasn’t seen him in months. Claimed he was living over on Gertrude St. I’m going by there, this afternoon. You want to come along?” I figured it’s her son, maybe she’d want to see him.

“I’ve so much work to here, John. I just can’t walk away right now.” Doctor Anne claimed.

“Okay. I’ll go by and check on him then report back. In the meantime, if Kelly and Washington come back, try not to piss them off.”

“I can’t promise you that. My bullshit meter only goes so high and they’ve already exceeded today’s maximum level.” Doctor Anne quipped.

“Try to think of it in terms of Friday afternoon. If you end up beaten up or dead because you let them get to you, we won’t be able to spend Friday afternoon together.” I flirted with her, since I’d just realized I hadn’t done so today. I honestly wasn’t expecting her to keep our supposed date for Friday. After all, she’s a married woman and a doctor. I’m just some low life loser, who used to be a cop, a bad cop and now I do private investigations of criminals, mostly for criminals. I was hardly a prize.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

While driving to check on Daniel, I called the diner again and was told again, Betty was still swamped. I asked Jan if she had given her my message from earlier and she said she had. When I asked if Betty had said anything, Jan got quite and said she wasn’t there to pass notes like in grade school. Then she quickly stated, if I wanted to talk to Betty, I had stop in the morning or go her place.

I checked my watch and saw it was just after noon and by the time I drove over to the diner they would have all gone home, so it would have to be tomorrow morning before Betty and I could talk.

The whole time I was driving over to Daniel’s flop, I couldn’t help but think of Betty. She’d had good instincts not to get involved with me. I didn’t exactly lead a quiet life. At any moment, I could find myself in a fight for my life and she was right to not want to be a part of that.

When I turned on to Gertrude Street I was struck by the fact that it didn’t look any different in the daylight than it did in the dark. It was poor and very run down. Several of the buildings had signs in the front yards saying they were scheduled for urban renewal three years prior. So far the only renewal that was taking place was when the wind blew away the old trash and new trash was blown in.

I pulled up to the four plex that supposedly was Daniel’s flop. The street was deserted which wasn’t a surprise, since every house on the street was vacant. The only other car in sight was in the front yard of four plex three units down. It was a burned out hulk that looked like it might have been a Chevy Malibu or a Buick Skylark. I parked at the curb in front of the four plex and got out, checking for my weaponry as I did so. I had my taser and my gun, plus my handy dandy collapsible baton. I was as ready, as I going to get.

I slipped through a hole in the fence and crossed the yard to what had been the front door. It was now just an opening where the door used to be. The floor was strewn with trash of every variety from newspapers to food wrappers to tampons and condoms. Who took a babe in here to have sex? This was probably one of the places strung out hookers brought johns for a quickie to score cash or drugs or both.

I checked over the first floor and found it empty, so I went upstairs to the second floor. Daniel’s flop was supposedly in the back right corner. Climbing to the second floor, I gave the second floor a cursory once over, just to be sure, there wasn’t some junkie waiting to sneak up behind me and stab me for few bucks. I figured I really didn’t need to add more drama to my life, after what had already transpired today.

Once I felt somewhat comfortable, I entered into the apartment in the back right corner of the building. I was struck with a weird feeling as I walked in. I was unsure if I should knock before going in. Talk about strange. This wasn’t anyone’s home, it was a condemned building, yet for a moment, I thought I was being impolite by just walking in. In the end, I yelled out, “Daniel, you here?” and after a three count, I continued on.

The apartment was the same as the rest of the building. There was trash everywhere. I checked each room, the bedrooms, kitchen, bath and living room. Other than two extremely dirty and worn out mattresses in the back bedroom, there was nothing, nothing but trash. I didn’t wait around for Daniel; I had a massacre to plan.

As I was leaving the building, I saw a guy slip off to the side of the building, clearly trying to avoid me. I decided maybe he could shed a little light on where I might find Daniel, so I ran after him. I found him hiding behind the chimney.

“Hey buddy, you flop here?” I asked, but the guy didn’t respond, he just stared down at the ground. “Dude, there’s twenty bucks in it, if you can help me out by answering a few questions.”

That seemed to do it. He looked up and smiled toothlessly, which had made me glad, I hadn’t had breakfast today and he said, “Make it forty.”

“I’m okay with that. So do you know Daniel or Danny?”

“Where’s the money?” He asked.

“Here’s twenty,” I held out the bill and let him take it. “You get the other twenty, when you answered my questions, okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbled as he clenched the twenty tightly in his fist which he held against his chest.

“Do you know Daniel or Danny?” I asked again.

“Yeah, I used to.”

“Why do say you used to know him? Doesn’t he live here anymore?”

“I don’t know. He left one night and ain’t been back.” He answered absently.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know. They just came and said he had to go with them.”

“Them? Who is them?” I inquired

“I don’t know, they work for the big drug boss and they said he owed them money.”

“How long ago was this?” I questioned.

“I don’t know. It’s been a long time, maybe two, three weeks, maybe a year. I’m not too good at keeping track of time.”

“So who is the big drug boss?” I pressed the guy, though I was pretty sure I knew already.

“I don’t know, but Smith and Jones are pretty close to him.” Yeah, just as I thought. Kelly and Washington had done something to Daniel some time ago. I doubted that Daniel was still alive but I needed something more substantial than the ramblings of a strung out druggie.

“So the drug bosses men, came here to the flop and took Daniel?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Can I see the other twenty?” he muttered and I held it out so he could see it without any difficulty. He made an awkward lunge towards it, in an effort to grab it, which I easily parried and then held it out of reach saying.

“Not yet. I have a few more questions.”

“Okay, okay, just a few more. Not many, okay? Not many.” He was struggling to keep his act together and I almost felt sorry for him, all most. Mostly, I felt like kicking his ass for being such an idiot and it took a good deal of will power not to. I couldn’t pity him. I could laugh at him, but I couldn’t bring myself to pity him. He chose to be this way. He took the drugs and now that he was addicted, the liberals would have us all bending over backwards to pity him and take care of him, the whole time blaming someone else for his choices.

“Had you or Daniel bought drugs the day the men took him?” I was searching for anything to tie Daniel to Smith and Jones.

“I don’t know. We haven’t had to buy drugs for some time. The Doctor, he fixes us up,” the druggie shared.                        

“The doctor, which doctor? What the doctor’s name?” I asked in rapid succession and it seemed to be too much, too fast for the guy, he stood gnawing on his own hand and turned his back to me. I tried again, “What’s the doctor’s name?” I asked again.

“I don’t know. He gives us prescriptions and we go get them filled.” The guy stated without making eye contact.

“What kind of medicine are the prescriptions for?” I then asked.

“I don’t know. It’s always for Oxy man or Vicodin, the good stuff. The doc, he pays us in cocaine.”

“Wow, that sounds great, where can I get some?” I tried yet another way to jog his memory of who the doctor was.

“I don’t know. Oh hey, he’d like that. He’s always asking where we could find another dozen just like Danny and me. We don’t…We don’t steal from him. But you got to take a blood test.”

“Why?” I inquired.

“I don’t know. They want to know your blood type.”

“Did they give Daniel a blood test that day?” I asked

“I don’t know. We got poked in the arm by a needle.”

“So what’s the Doctor’s name?” I asked yet again.

“I don’t know. He’ right up the block on Martin Luther. He’s short, really short.” he raised his hand to about his chest level. “Yeah, Doctor Kyeong is real short but real cool. He even gives us food now and then.” There it was. I had the next name I needed, to get to the bottom of the Daniel issue. I gave him the second twenty and left him to whatever it is druggies do, when no one is around.

I drove up and down Martin Luther King in both directions several times and was about to give up when I noticed a woman stumbling out of an unmarked door on an unmarked building. She was clutching a small slip of paper in her right hand. I pulled over to the curb across the street and watched the door for almost an hour and struggled not to think about Betty. I saw seven street people come and go over that hour and that was all I had the patience for, so I got out of my car and went across the street to wait for the next person to come out of the office. When they exited I would catch the door and slip inside without having to be buzzed in.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait very long, two minutes after I staked a place on the wall next to the door, out stumbles this dude who smelled like he just took a dump in his pants. I grabbed the door as he stepped through and hurried off, clutching his prescription in his hot little hand. I had to admit it was a slick way to sell drugs. You used druggies to fill prescriptions for the controlled prescription drugs and you paid them with Cocaine which at the moment was quite plentiful on the street making it cheaper than money. You then took the prescription drugs you got for practically nothing and sell those for an enormous profit. I’m sure the doctor had gone out and made a deal with a handful of pharmacies to fill the prescriptions as well. He would have picked failing pharmacies providing a life line to the struggling owner.

I’ve found when most people are behind the eight ball and their business thus their life is about to go down the drain, they don’t care to distinguish whether the new business is legal or illegal, so long as it improves the bottom line with enough to save them. From the look of the neighborhood, any pharmacy within a couple of miles of here would most likely make any deal they could that helped them stay in business.

Upon entering the building, I was confronted by a choice. There were two doors. Neither one was labeled. So, I was left to choose by other means. I looked at the floor and saw that the linoleum was worn practically away leading to the door on the right and the door on the left the linoleum was in quite good shape. Most of the traffic had gone to the right, which probably meant it was a waiting room. I picked the left door and slowly opened it. I had been right. Before me was a hallway that took a right turn about ten feet in. I followed the hallway down and around the corner stopping short of the next open door because I could hear voices now. They were speaking English but there was also another language intermixed that I didn’t recognize. It sounded almost like Chinese.

I stepped closer to the doorway and risked a peek around the door jam. I discovered I was right behind the front desk. I could hear the druggies all complaining about being stuck here sitting and waiting to get their prescriptions. The girl at the counter was trying very hard to keep the druggies in line and seated, but you could tell she was moments from losing it.

The hallway behind the front desk led to the exam rooms and that left just the two doors across the hall from me. The first one turned out to be a supply closet, but the second one turned out to be the doctor’s private office. I slipped inside and closed the door.

The doctor’s name was, Dae-Jung Kyeong. I think that’s Korean. He’d graduated from the Seoul University of Medicine. He also had a license to practice medicine from the State of Tennessee. There was a picture of him taking his oath of citizenship. Another a picture was of him at some convention of some sort. The other three walls were devoid of pictures.

I decided to wait for the good doctor, in his office and made myself at home in his office chair. I began rifling through his desk and his files, looking for anything that could help me confirm they had killed Daniel. The doctor apparently didn’t take too many breaks, because I was left alone in his office for over an hour. It gave me plenty of time to find the files he kept about organ transplants. They were in the file cabinet in the corner in a previously locked drawer. It even gave me time to pull up his history from Korea, using his computer, which wasn’t encrypted or even password protected.

It seems the good doctor, wasn’t exactly the image of professional conduct in his homeland. He was a skilled surgeon that left Korea under a cloud of suspicion in regards to organ harvesting and pill pedaling. I scanned the good doctor’s paper files for any mention of Daniel Harris, but found none. Every single patient was identified by a number and nothing else. The doctor was smart but not that smart. I found Daniel’s name on a list stating what organs were removed and where each of the organs went. The file was titled shipping. It was the smoking gun, but I wanted to hear what the good Doctor had to say in his defense. So, I sat back down in his chair, put my feet up on the desk and waited for the man to step into the room. It took another twenty minutes.

“Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?” He yelled. He was short, like most Orientals and just like the druggie had said he was.

“I’m William Bennett and I am an auditor for the IRS. You’ve got some explaining to do doctor.” I retorted, as I smirked at him.

“My records are perfect. I have no problems. Get out of my office. I am calling the police.” I waved my gun over my head making sure he could see it in response to his toothless threat.

“You won’t do that, Doc. That would be very stupid of you to call the police, I’d have to speed up my interview time table and go right to where I have to hurt you, when that might not be even be necessary. But then, you’re the Doctor, you know what’s best. Make the call.” I leveled the gun at him and he suddenly had a change of heart.