The Silence That Speaks (25 page)

“I’m sure your client would want to help us both out if he could, since it could only benefit him.” A pause. “Exactly. What I was wondering is if Dr. Westfield happened to keep copies of those videos of his surgeries, since I know how diligent he was about reviewing his work.” Another pause. “I appreciate that. Please let me know immediately after you speak with him....Good. I’ll look forward to your call.”

* * *

Outside Jacob’s door, Janet backed away, feeling her insides twist. This was the worst-case scenario, the very thing she had feared from the beginning.

Of course Madeline would know where those videos were. She was the most methodical and organized person Janet had ever met. So if Conrad was in the dark, his ex-wife wouldn’t be.

Janet had to intercept this problem. She had to get her hands on that video recording before everyone else did.

32

RYAN WALKED INTO
his lair and sat down at his computer station.

Casey had heard nothing back from Janet Moss, so the woman was obviously not having any luck figuring out Ronald’s coding system.

That didn’t work for Ryan. Sitting around and waiting made him crazy. Everyone else seemed to be guarding Madeline and Conrad, while he was spinning in neutral. He’d picked up nothing incriminating at the Lexington house—just a lot of ranting and raving from Nancy Lexington that pointed to her being a nut job, but not a murderer.

It was time to check out the current results of his keystroke-logging software. So far there’d been nothing exciting.

Firing up his computer, Ryan called up the keystroke logger management interface.

He scrolled through the log file...nothing major from most of the bigwigs, but Roger Lewis had been a busy boy. Ryan grimaced. He’d probably been sending emails to an online lonely hearts club, weeping about his shattered relationship with Emma.

A minute later, he changed his mind. No whining over Emma. The guy had obviously decided to throw himself into his work. His input was all hospital business.

Brow furrowed in concentration, Ryan reviewed Roger’s keystrokes. The guy had been trying to retrieve files. What files in particular? Ryan intended to find out.

He opened up a Telnet session, tunneling right through the hospital’s firewall. Using the admin credentials he had forged, he had the same access Roger did. Now to replicate what that shithead had done. It was a long and painstaking process.

Success. Ryan scanned the screen and found the same thing that Roger had—a file was missing and its backup had been deleted.

Checking a little more thoroughly, Ryan put together the pieces and bolted upright in his chair. Based on similar directories and files on the same storage device, the missing file was one of many missing files that had contained video recordings—recordings of surgeries performed the same day as Ronald Lexington’s surgery.

Someone had erased the files.

What the hell was on that video recording that someone wanted to make vanish?

Jumping out of his chair, Ryan took the steps two at a time until he reached the conference room.

* * *

Casey and Claire were in heated conversation. Marc was pacing the room, and Hero was sitting up straight, visibly tense.

Ryan burst into the room. “I need to talk to you.”

“Wait in line,” Casey said. “I’m mediating a disagreement. Claire wants to call off Emma ASAP and get her out of the hospital in case Roger tries something even more violent. Marc thinks it would be too obvious if she abruptly vanished, plus it would be one less pair of eyes on Madeline. I’m inclined to agree with Claire. Madeline is well-guarded by professionals—a role that Emma’s not equipped to fill. There’s nothing more that she can do for us there. And after that ugly experience with Roger, I don’t want to put her in harm’s way. Who knows if Roger is going to retaliate—”

“Get Emma out of there,” Ryan interrupted. “She doesn’t need to face that asshole again. And I didn’t come in here just to talk to
you.
I need the whole team to hear this.”

Abruptly Casey switched gears and focused on Ryan.

“You found something. What is it?”

“A pretty explosive something.” Ryan explained what he’d discovered when he retraced Roger’s keystrokes.

“So the video recording is missing,” Casey said. “Is it possible there’s another copy?”

“Madeline said that Conrad was obsessive about his work,” Claire reminded them. “Could he have made a copy and taken it to Crest Haven with him?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” Casey reached for the phone and dialed Conrad’s number.

Conrad answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Conrad? It’s Casey Woods. I don’t mean to be abrupt, but I need to know if you made a copy of Ronald Lexington’s surgery.”

“That’s odd,” he replied. “My attorney called earlier and asked me the same question.”

Casey’s warning bells went off. “Did he tell you why?”

“Because the hospital’s counsel was requesting it. I assume they’re looking for something to save the hospital, although I’m not sure what that means for me. I doubt the video is going to help them. I’ve scrutinized it over and over. Still, I’d welcome a review by my peers. I probably should have asked some of my colleagues for their opinions a long time ago. Perhaps they’ll see something I overlooked. Maybe then I can live with myself and go on with my life.”

“So you did make a copy,” Casey said.

“I made a copy of every one of my surgeries. Watching them gave me a chance to study my technique and see if there was anything I could improve upon.” Conrad choked up a bit. “As I said, I watched Ronald’s surgery again and again before I was in such a dark place that I admitted myself to Crest Haven.”

“Nothing looked out of the ordinary?”

“I couldn’t find an error no matter how closely I studied the video. I doubt the hospital’s attorney will, either. But for the sake of the attorneys on both sides and the insurance company that’s defending me, let them pursue it. I welcome the scrutiny.”

“Do you still have a copy of the video recording?”

“I believe so. But truthfully, I’m not sure where. My apartment was trashed. Madeline and I had just divided up our property, and I have no clue where my discs ended up.”

“You didn’t take them with you to Crest Haven?”

“Definitely not.”

“Would Madeline know where to find them?”

“I’m not sure. I left her a voice mail. She must be on shift at the hospital, so her phone is on silent. I can call you as soon as I hear from her.”

“Please do,” Casey said. “Let us know even before you call your attorney. It’s crucial.”

Marc had stopped pacing and was staring off, eyes narrowed. “That must be what the killer was looking for when they ransacked Madeline’s and Conrad’s apartments. In both their places, the DVD collections were totally trashed. The intruder must have assumed that Conrad made a copy of Ronald’s surgery. If so, there’s something big on that recording—big enough for someone to ransack two apartments and then try to kill Madeline and Conrad.”

“Do you think Conrad is lying about having spotted what’s on there?” Claire asked.

“No.” Casey shook her head. “Conrad is focusing on his part in the surgery. I’m sure he doesn’t have a clue if there’s a detail he’s missing. And Madeline has probably never even watched the video.”

“If anyone finds out that the hospital’s on to the missing video recording and that Conrad made a copy, then Madeline’s danger level just went way up.” Marc looked grim.

“Casper would keep it completely quiet,” Ryan said. “Trust me, no one’s heard a word about this but him, Roger and the hospital’s attorney. Plus, nothing’s changed. There’s
still
no one who knows where the video recording is.”

“Except maybe Madeline.”

“We’ll find that out soon enough,” Casey said. “Patrick’s stationed outside the hospital. I’ll have him hunt Madeline down and ask her.” She studied Marc’s anxious expression. “Patrick won’t let anything happen to her, Marc.”

She took out her cell phone to call him.

“Yes, Casey,” he answered immediately.

“Is Madeline in the hospital?”

“Yes. She’s been on duty for two and a half hours.”

“Where is she?”

“Dave checked on her about ten minutes ago. She’s in the E.R. patching up a car accident victim. Why?”

“I need you to find the first inconspicuous moment to pull her aside. Don’t make a big deal out of it, and make sure no one gives it a second glance. Ask her if she knows where Conrad’s videos of his surgeries are. Give me a call with the answer while you’re still with her.”

“Video recordings. That’s what the intruder was looking for when they ransacked her place and Conrad’s.” Patrick made the connection in a heartbeat. “What’s on there that you’re looking for?”

“Ronald Lexington’s surgery.”

“Of course.” Patrick’s wheels were turning. “That makes total sense. There’s something on that video that’s going to burn someone’s ass, bad enough to kill for it.”

“That’s where our thoughts were headed, as well,” Casey said.

“Conrad doesn’t know where they are?”

“Nope. Between the material possessions that were divided during the divorce and the trashing of his apartment, he has no clue of anything other than the fact that the video exists and that he watched it repeatedly before he went to Crest Haven.”

“Do the hospital attorneys know about all this?”

“Yes. So I’m sure they’ll be checking with Madeline next. And if she should know...”

“Then her safety is even more compromised. Got it. I’ll catch her the minute she steps out of the E.R.”

* * *

It took a lot longer than Patrick had hoped. But clearly the car accident victim required more than just a patch-up.

Patrick walked down to the closest Au Bon Pain, bought himself a cup of coffee and sat down at a table, waiting.

A steady flow of people moved up and down the corridors, and the E.R. waiting room itself was overflowing. Patrick had to admire Madeline and all the E.R. personnel for their ability to handle pressure and multitask. They’d do well in the FBI.

An attractive middle-aged woman with a large handbag rushed by him, clearly on her way to some vital destination. As she passed, her handbag swung out, knocked over Patrick’s cup of coffee and then dropped to the floor.

The coffee and the contents of the handbag spilled out everywhere, brown liquid splashing over leather and all the other items that landed on the floor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the woman gasped, nervous and flustered. She squatted down and started to collect her dripping personal items. “Dammit.” She sat back on her heels, clearly having changed her mind.

She adjusted her glasses and looked up at Patrick. “I’m going inside to get a bunch of napkins.” She rose to her feet. “I’m also buying you another cup of coffee. How do you take it?”

“Please, that’s not necessary.” Patrick politely declined her offer. “I was just finishing up, anyway.”

“Obviously that’s not the case. You had three-quarters of a cup of coffee left.” She flashed a self-deprecating smile. “I should know. It’s all over everything, thanks to me.”

“Still...”

“How do you take your coffee?” she repeated. “Otherwise, I’ll just have to guess.”

Patrick had jerked his chair backward reflexively. Now he picked up the few napkins he’d taken and began wiping the table. “Just black. And I greatly appreciate it.”

“Not at all.” She walked around the eating area and into Au Bon Pain.

Patrick continued to sop up his coffee, glancing repeatedly over at the E.R.

There was still no sign of Madeline coming out.

* * *

Madeline herself was puzzled.

She’d finished taping up the car accident victim about fifteen minutes ago. She’d been about to strip off her gloves and come out when Diana Moss had appeared, slightly bent forward and asking for her help.

“What’s the problem?” Madeline had asked in surprise. Diana had smiled shyly at her once or twice since her return, but that’s where any sign of reconnecting had stopped.

“I have a bad pain in my lower abdomen. It started a few days ago and has been getting progressively worse. It’s unbearable now. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, but could you do a quick check and maybe have an X-ray done?”

“You’re thinking appendicitis?” Madeline asked.

Diana nodded.

“That’s nothing to fool around with. Come in and I’ll have the technician do an X-ray. Then, if it’s necessary, I’ll page a doctor.” She paused. “Why didn’t you ask one of the surgeons to take a look at you?”

“They’re very busy right now. Besides, if it turns out to be nothing, I don’t want to be sent home to rest and sit around. I need to work.”

“Then let’s hope it’s nothing.” Still thinking it was odd that Diana had chosen her, of all people, to approach, Madeline took Diana down to the X-ray room.

* * *

Janet bought the cup of coffee at the same time as she saw Diana disappear through the E.R. with Madeline.

She walked over to the island that held the milk, sweeteners and coffee accoutrements. She helped herself to a handful of napkins, and then glanced around. Nobody nearby.

She removed the plastic lid off the coffee cup long enough to drop the sleeping pills in. Quickly, she stirred the beverage, and then snapped the lid back into place.

She headed out of Au Bon Pain and back to Patrick.

33

“EVERYTHING LOOKS FINE,
Diana.” Madeline studied the X-ray the technician had taken. “I don’t see any glaring problem. But make an appointment with one of our gastroenterologists. You should have a complete rundown and a thorough exam.”

“I will.” Diana was shrugging into her hospital uniform. “I appreciate you doing this. It was the fastest and most discreet way for me to find out if I was in immediate trouble.”

“No problem.” Madeline walked with Diana as they headed out of the E.R. “I’m heading for the lounge to get a cup of coffee. Want to join me?”

“There won’t be time for that.” Janet’s voice came from directly behind Madeline. “Diana has to go back to the surgical wing.” Janet’s open coat brushed against Madeline’s arm, and a blunt object jabbed her in the back. “You and I, on the other hand, have to take an urgent drive.”

“Mom...” Diana stood there for a moment, looking nervous and unsure. “Maybe there’s another way....”

“There isn’t.” Janet shoved the object firmer into Madeline’s back. “Let’s go.”

That’s when Madeline realized that the object in Janet’s hand was a gun.

“Janet, what the hell are you doing?” she gasped, watching in shock as Diana turned and walked off.

“Escorting you to your car. Once we’re inside, I’ll give you instructions. I’ll even answer your questions, if you’d like. But right now, we’re going to walk to the rear staircase and head down. I’ve got the gun hidden in the flap of my coat. That doesn’t mean I won’t use it. So be a good girl, just like you always are, and do as I say.”

“My God, it was you?”

“Walk.” Janet gave her a little shove with the pistol.

Woodenly, Madeline did as Janet ordered. She headed for the stairwell, located one corridor away. She felt surreal, people passing by, chatting, rushing somewhere, or drinking cups of coffee and waiting for loved ones. The PA system was paging doctors and nurses, punctuated with the squeaks of the orderlies’ carts as they pushed them around and the wail of a crying baby.

No one knew what was happening. No one had any idea that she was being held at gunpoint, being kidnapped—or worse.

She felt the jab of Janet’s weapon and continued on her way.

* * *

Marc glanced at his watch for the fifth time in ten minutes.

“Hasn’t it been a long time since you called Patrick?” he asked Casey.

“No, Marc.” Casey couldn’t help but feel compassion at the anxious expression on his face. “It’s been less than an hour. If Madeline is dealing with a serious injury, it could take a lot longer than we’d like. Patrick is within eyesight of the E.R. He’ll get to her the instant she walks out. We have to have some patience.”

“Patience. Yeah. Right.”

“We haven’t heard from Conrad, either, Marc,” Claire said in that soothing voice of hers. “That means he’s waiting, too.”

“I know. And you’re right.” Marc glanced at Casey. “And you were right about my personal feelings getting in the way. I have no objectivity right about now.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Casey was frank. “We’re invested in our client, and we’re on pins and needles. You’re in love with her. If you weren’t a wreck, I’d be shocked.”

The main telephone line rang.

Casey grabbed it. “Forensic Instincts.”

“It’s Aidan.” He didn’t mince words. “I cracked two of the encryption keys.”

“And?”

“The first woman’s name is Francine Ryder.”

The other employee besides Valerie Pintar to lose her job over Ronald.

“No surprise,” Casey said. “And the other?”

“Janet Moss.”

Casey sucked in her breath.

“I take it that was a lucky break?”

“Yes. I need everything you have on her—now.”

“I figured as much. I’ll put everything on a USB drive and be there in half an hour.”

“Thanks.” Casey hung up the phone and looked at the team. “Aidan cracked two of the encryption keys. One is Janet Moss.”

“So she
was
sleeping with Ronald,” Claire murmured. An odd expression crossed her face. “Something’s not right.”

“With Madeline?” Marc demanded.

Claire’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Madeline and Janet. There’s dark energy lurking there.”

“Shit.” Marc took a long stride toward the door.

“Wait, Marc,” Casey said. “Madeline’s still in the E.R. So she’s safe. Aidan is on his way over. Let’s get all the information. Then we’ll act.”

* * *

Janet sat in the backseat with the pistol pointed at Madeline’s head.

“Drive.”

“Where?” Madeline’s shock was still so acute, she could barely speak.

“You tell me,” Janet said. “Where are the video recordings?”

“The video recordings?”
Focus. Try to make sense of what Janet is asking for.

But she couldn’t.

All she could think about was the gun aimed at her head, and the nightmarish reality that she’d never get out of here alive.
Oh, God. Oh, God.

Panic replaced shock. Terrified tears slid down her cheeks. How was she going to save herself? She was trapped in her car with a crazy woman holding a gun. No one knew she was missing. No one knew where she’d gone.

She
didn’t know where she was going or what the hell Janet was babbling about. Video recordings?
What
video recordings?

“Don’t play stupid with me.” Janet’s voice seemed to come from far away and yet way too close. “I know you. You’re a perfectionist. You know where everything is—and that includes Conrad’s videos. Now turn on the damned car!”

Madeline jumped, and then tried three times to put the key in the ignition.

Finally she succeeded, and the engine roared to life.

She tried to think past the pounding of her heart. “Conrad’s...you mean the recordings of his surgeries?”

“Of course that’s what I mean,” Janet snapped.

“Why...” Madeline wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Why do you want those?”

“Not
those. It.
One recording.”

“The recording of Ronald’s surgery.” Slowly, what Janet was demanding pushed through Madeline’s white panic. “Is there something on it that incriminates you?”

“That’s not your problem.” Janet was getting impatient. “You know where the recordings are stored.”

Madeline wasn’t about to play Russian roulette with her life. Maybe, if she gave Janet what she wanted... Who was she kidding? Madeline knew Janet was guilty. Once Janet got what she wanted, there was no way she could let Madeline live.

Still, if she refused, Janet would just shoot her on the spot.

Bile rose up in Madeline’s throat. No. She had to fight for time, then maybe she’d find a chance to break away.

“Yes. I know where the recordings are stored,” she said.

She could feel Janet’s relief fill the car.

“Where are they?”

“In a Manhattan mini-storage on Second Avenue, way downtown.”

Janet pressed the gun closer to Madeline’s head. “Why so far? You live on the Upper East Side.”

“Because the closer one didn’t have the size unit we needed.”

“Damn,” Janet said. “That’s going to take us at least a half hour in traffic. They’ll be looking for you by then.”

“I can’t help that,” Madeline replied. “But I’m the only one who knows that information. Even Conrad doesn’t know where I stored the recordings. He was already on sabbatical when I made the arrangements.”

Janet’s gaze flickered to Madeline’s purse on the passenger seat. “Give me your purse.”

The panic resurged, although Madeline complied, placing her purse into Janet’s waiting hand. “If you’re looking for the key, it won’t help you. There’s a security check at the mini-storage. The management knows me there. You won’t be able to get to the storage unit.”

“Point taken. Which means you’re still useful.” Through the rearview mirror, Madeline could see Janet’s eyes narrow as she tossed the purse on the backseat next to her. “Start driving. And I know the city like the back of my hand. So don’t do anything stupid.”

* * *

Marc had already punched in the code on the Hirsch pad and opened the front door when Aidan came striding up to FI at a near-run.

“Upstairs. Conference room,” was all Marc said.

The two men took the stairs to the main conference room. The whole team gathered around the table as Aidan sat down at the computer—which was already fired up—and inserted the USB drive.

“Yoda, display the whiteboard,” Casey commanded.

“Whiteboard displayed,” Yoda replied, just as a virtual white board appeared on the wall.

Aidan called up the files on the keyboard and indicated the two-line list.

“Janet Moss’s file is twice the size of the other women’s. That clued me in to the fact that she was significant in your investigation.” He pressed a button and opened Janet’s file. “Here’s all the information you need.”

Page one appeared on the wall.

“I don’t give a shit about the sex poses,” Marc said impatiently. “Lexington could have screwed her upside down for all I care.”

“Wait,” Aidan told him.

He scrolled through the pages, and about five pages in, the pertinent data started showing up.

First came the fact that Ronald had met Janet at a medical seminar he was speaking at, and she was attending to learn more about hospital career opportunities.

“Look at the date of the seminar,” Casey said. “That was almost twenty-nine years ago. Janet’s only been at Manhattan Memorial for twenty-six years.”

“So we’re talking about a very long-term relationship that started before Janet even walked through the hospital doors.” Ryan’s brows were knit as he concentrated.

“Janet got pregnant a few months later,” Claire exclaimed, pointing. “My God, that means that Diana is Ronald’s daughter.”

“The question is, did he know...yes, he did,” Casey said, studying the next pages, which were a lengthy accounting spreadsheet. “He paid a chunk of money for Janet’s medical bills and living expenses.”

“Yeah, and he stashed her away near Belleayre Ski Center in upstate New York at the end of her pregnancy and through the first few years of Diana’s life,” Marc added.

At that, Ryan moved to a second computer. “Yoda, give me another screen.”

“Done, Ryan.”

A second virtual whiteboard appeared. Ryan punched furiously at the keyboard while the others continued talking.

“No wonder Janet made her way up the ladder so quickly once she came to Manhattan Memorial.” Casey leaned forward, still studying the spreadsheet and the notes attached to it. “Ronald was not only paying her an exorbitant salary with huge raises, but he was promoting her like crazy—right up to being his assistant.”

“Talk about buying silence,” Marc muttered.

“Guys, look at this.” Ryan’s head shot up and he stared at the second screen. “Yoda, please display.”

“Yes, Ryan.”

The data popped up. It was a Google search of the local area near the ski center. A recent news item appeared in the list. Ryan clicked on it, opening it on the screen.

“A ski lodge cabin burned to the ground last night,” Ryan said. “No sign of foul play, just an unfortunate accident.”

“Bullshit.” Marc was rippling with tension. “Janet is trying to destroy all her ties with Ronald. She’s guilty as hell.”

“I also just ran her car,” Ryan added. “She drives a black Town Car. That fits the description of the car that was parked outside Madeline’s apartment building.”

“I’m going to the hospital and grabbing that bitch.” Marc wasn’t going to be stopped this time.

“Fine,” Casey said. “But before you go, tell me—why is Janet doing all this now? She’s had years to deal with the fact that the man she clearly loved was racking up women like sex trophies. She can’t hurt him—he’s dead. Has she suddenly decided to avenge his death? Why? And what’s the tie to Madeline and Conrad that would make her try to kill them?”

“None of this makes sense.” Claire had that faraway look in her eyes. She was picking up on some unknown energy.

“Aidan, scroll to the next page,” Casey requested.

He did as she asked.

“Dammit,” Ryan said. “There’s a motive to kill Ronald. Diana just found out the truth about her father six months ago. Maybe she fell apart and that—together with Janet’s own pain and resentment—pushed Janet over the edge.”

Casey frowned. “Let’s run with that. Ronald had already given Diana a great job at the hospital. And he was still paying Janet huge chunks of money. But that might not have been enough to appease her, not when her daughter was totally shattered.”

“Fine. So Janet killed Ronald.” Marc was still hovering by the door. “How? Did she drug him before the surgery?”

“That never would have escaped Conrad’s attention or the anesthesiologist’s,” Casey said, shaking her head. “Uh-uh. In order to kill Ronald, Janet would have needed access to the O.R. She didn’t have it.”

“But Diana did,” Claire said quietly.

Everyone’s head jerked around to face her. She looked sickeningly certain.

“Diana was the circulating nurse during Ronald’s surgery,” she said. “That means she was the first one in and the last one out. She’d have time alone in the O.R. before the surgical team came in.” Another faraway look. “I only met Diana briefly at the dedication ceremony, but I sensed that she was like a lost little girl. Back then, I assumed it was because her mother was so overprotective and her job was so new. Now that we’re focusing on her, I’m picking up a whole different energy. She was broken. Empty. Something psychological and heavy.”

“Diana must have had some kind of psychotic break when she found out that Ronald was her father,” Casey said. “And why wouldn’t she? She’s a gentle, sensitive girl. This news must have hit her like a ton of bricks. She’d been hurt. And the mother she adored was treated abysmally, and ultimately dumped, daughter and all. No amount of financial Band-Aids can make that go away.”

Claire shook her head sadly. “The Lexington happy family—something she’d never be part of—must have constantly been rubbed in Diana’s face. From what we’re reading in Janet’s file, Ronald wouldn’t so much as recognize her as his child. That’s something even Janet couldn’t fix.”

“What Janet could fix is finding a way to cover up her daughter’s crime.” Casey turned to Marc, who was already opening the door. “There’s something on that recording that incriminates Diana. That’s what this is about.”