Memphis Legend

by Brian Crawford

  ***

  It was true. I was mad.

  Trained lied spotters can detect lying 90 percent of the time, and I had been trained by an intelligence agency. Eric was lying. No doubt about it.

  But Eric’s lying was only the tip of the iceberg. Recalling my interaction with the Chief and the untimely visit from the Emmettsville Goon Squad created an avalanche of anger that was enveloping me. Now my wrath was obscuring my focus. I was feeling out of control, which just caused me to declare a personal war on the Chief of Police of Emmettsville.

  Maybe not my smartest move. Yet, transforming my anger into action always worked for me in the past and I did not feel like changing now. No, for better or worse, I was going to press forward. My search for answers was becoming a quest. It would take more than some insults or threats to turn me back now. In fact, if they continued down that path, I was likely to turn my quest into a crusade.

  ***

  I was still contemplating my next step when I arrived at work. Only 15 minutes late for my seven o'clock start. A glance at the emergency room control board revealed that the morning activity was very light. Dr. Zimmerman was involved with a worker's comp patient removing a foreign object from the patient's hand. The nurses were busy, but the rest of the doctors were on standby. As I grabbed my scrubs, Evelyn wished me a good morning and said she would let Dr. Chen know he could leave.

  “Good morning to you too, but let me find Dr. Chen. I bought him a treat,” I said showing her a bag from The Mill Bakery.

  She smiled as she spotted the bag. “Lemon poppy seed muffins? No wonder he always says yes when you ask him to cover for you.”

  I nodded and walked away smiling; Dr. Chen's love of lemon poppy seed muffins was nearly legendary at Memphis Memorial. The nurses even had a lemon poppy seed muffin cake made for his birthday one year.

  I found Dr. Chen relaxing in an office with his feet up on the desk dictating some notes. I tossed the bag over the back of his head into his lap. He waited to finish dictating his last sentence before turning towards me. He took a loud appreciative whiff of the bag and then started speaking before I could thank him. “You're welcome, McCain, but I think you're going to wish you had taken the whole day off.” Whatever he had to say must be bad since even the presence of his favorite treat failed to make a dent in the solemn look on his face.

  “Should I even ask?”

  “I guess that depends.”

  I said, “Depends on what?”

  “Whether you want to hear the news from a friendly face or if you want to wait to be blindsided by Dr. Lowe, who, by the way, has been down here twice already this morning looking for you.”

  Dr. Lowe had avoided me since the encounter in his office following the incident with Tom Harty. If Dr. Lowe was looking for me, then I had a pretty good idea why, and although doctors get used to delivering bad news, I still thought I might make the situation easier for Dr. Chen. “Tom Harty, huh?”

  “Yeah, a couple of hours ago. Pulmonary embolism is suspected.”

  “Thanks for telling me. And you are right; it is better hearing it from a friendly face than hearing it from Dr. Lowe. He is not exactly my favorite person.”

  Dr. Chen said, “Sorry. Zimmerman and I both agreed that we should forewarn you before Dr. Lowe got a hold of you.” He gave a long pause before resuming. “Honestly, I was surprised Harty hung on as long as he did.”

  “Me too, but I never stopped pulling for him.”

  “You might have been the only one. I heard no one other than his mother came to see him, not even his wife.”

  Even though I knew he was an alcoholic and a potential child abuser, I still found Dr. Chen's last statement particularly disheartening and saddening that almost no one cared about the man during his final days. I asked Dr. Chen about Dr. Lowe, how did he look. Dr. Chen said he look harried. I advised Dr. Chen to leave before he got roped into working for me. He was smart enough to take my advice. He looked into the bag, smiled, wished me luck, and made a hasty exit.

  I walked over to the ER control board. My name had not been added to the list of available doctors yet. A couple of nurses were milling around the counter attempting to look busy while the head nurse, Mrs. Bachman was shuffling some papers around. She looked up and discovered me studying the board.

  I said, “I have relieved Dr. Chen, and I'm available when needed.”

  She replied, “I’m sure you are, but I have been advised to leave you out of the rotation this morning.” She was very matter-of-fact.

  “Dr. Lowe's orders?”

  “Yes, Dr. McCain. He wants to talk to you.”

  “Thanks, I’ll head up to his office then.”

  She said, “I don't think he’s there, but you can try.” Once again, her tone was as flat and sterile as the white on the walls.

  “I realize it is a slow morning, but I already told Dr. Chen to go.”

  “That's not a problem, Dr. McCain. I have been advised to call in another doctor for today.”

  “Mrs. Bachman, which is it, morning or the whole day?”

  “I'm sorry, I don't follow.” She was maintaining the same aseptic tone.

  Maintaining a similar flat tone, I said, “Mrs. Bachman, I am aware that Tom Harty passed away earlier this morning and Dr. Lowe wants to talk to me about that. What I am wondering is, could you please tell me if you have been advised to keep me off the schedule for the morning or the entire day?”

  “The entire day.” She remained monotone and flat, but my pesky inner voice told me that she had enjoyed the exchange.

  “Well, thanks for telling me before I changed into my scrubs. Have a nice day, Mrs. Bachman.”

  I left without giving her any chance to respond and headed up to Dr. Lowe's office. His secretary informed me he was in a meeting elsewhere and I was to wait for his return. She had no idea when he was going to return. She could not even narrow it down to the morning or the afternoon. She was very polite and apologetic that she could not be more helpful.

  “Ma'am, how Dr. Lowe found a gem like you to work for him is beyond me. I know I should probably sit here and wait while hoping some of your precious attitude would rub off on me, but I’m going to go home instead. When Dr. Lowe arrives, he can page me. Oh, and don't worry, I will tell him that you asked me to stay. I wouldn't want any trouble to fall on you for my indiscretion.” I gave her a wink on the last word, which resulted in a smile.

  ***

  Tom Harty's death hit me pretty hard once I got clear of the hospital. After remaining comatose following the surgery to relieve the pressure from around his brain, his prognosis was poor at best; bleak was probably a better word, but doctors don’t use the word bleak in their medical charts. When he stabilized, deep down in my gut, I knew his chances were probably less than 5 or 10 percent that he would ever wake up from the coma and the odds were even less that he would ever function fully like before; however, I never wrote him off. Sure, part of my concern was selfish. I mean who wants to hear that they caused someone’s death. Ultimately, an avoidable early death just seemed wasteful.

  Feeling the need to blow off some steam physically, I walked back to my apartment for a workout. I ignored the blinking light on the answering machine until after my workout; however, it was good news, my Mercedes was finished and ready for delivery. My pager went off while I was waiting for them to deliver the car. I did not respond. It was the hospital, and I was not going to let it interrupt my happiness as I waited. Besides, I was enjoying the feeling of insubordination.

  When the car arrived, I was tempted to let Dr. Lowe wait even longer since the car looked great and the new motor I had installed purred like a kitten, a 322 horsepower kitten. A lonely, winding road across the river in Arkansas was calling my name, begging me to conquer its curves with my new toy; however, I had made Dr. Lowe wait long enough.

  ***

  Dr. Lowe’s secretary gave me a quick double-take as she noticed my casual attire, jeans and a tee shirt, and then waved me
into his office as soon as I arrived. Dr. Lowe was sitting at his desk waiting for me with an indignant look on his face. He motioned for me to sit using a small dismissive backhanded gesture that immediately irritated me.

  “No thanks, Dr. Lowe, I think I will stand.”

  “I would prefer that you sit.”

  “Pardon me, sir, but after our last meeting, I’m not overly concerned with your preferences.”

  “Nor are you particularly concerned with your attire, Dr. McCain. You’re starting off this meeting on a bad foot.”

  “I’ve already been informed by Mrs. Bachman that I have the day off. I came as I was when you paged me. I keep an extra sport coat in my locker downstairs, would you like me to get it?”

  He dismissed my question with a slight shrug of his shoulders and a nearly imperceptible flippant nod of his head. “Mrs. Jones asked you to wait for my return. Were my orders not clear enough?”

  “Sir, we both know I got your message and that I chose to leave. Surely, you didn’t think I was going to wait around with nothing to do for an indefinite amount of time. You paged me, and I am here. That’s good enough.”

  “I don’t like your tone this morning.”

  “Dr. Lowe, what do you say we just get to the brass tacks here? Tom Harty has died, and you want to talk about it. Good, let’s do that, but I will start. In the process of saving lives, I hit a man who died. While I don’t feel responsible or guilty, I do find the whole thing unsettling. It feels kind of like losing a patient; it’s not your fault, but you still don’t feel good about it. You know that feeling, right? So, please keep the condescension level to a bare minimum today. Better yet, try not to go there at all.”

  “Dr. McCain, I’m not sure how to proceed. Sit, please.”

  He said please, but he did not mean it. He was still jockeying for control. Well, he could stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. I remained standing.

  “Sir, since you seem more interested in a power struggle than with the discussion at hand, let me help you out here. You’re the boss. I’m the guy who has to do what you say, but I’m also the guy that will not be talked down to. I don’t need this job that much. You took me off the schedule today. Why?”

  Up until that moment, Dr. Lowe had been sitting behind his desk trying to look imposing. The aggressive body language was replaced by a scowl while he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed in front of him. Unhappy and defensive was better than aggressive from my point of view.

  Dr. Lowe said, “I didn’t want you on the schedule until I had talked with our attorneys to discuss liability issues.”

  “You guys have had two weeks to discuss potential liability. Personally, I don’t understand why there would be liability issues, but then I don’t have to think about things like that in my position. So what did you find out?”

  “There are currently no criminal charges against you or this hospital, and all three attorneys doubt that any criminal charges will be brought. Civil charges seem to be a possibility. With the right attorney, the Harty family might be inclined to try their chances in that arena. The attorneys all agree that the opposing side would lose, although it might be cheaper to settle if that were to happen. They are more worried about image issues and wanted to know if we would have your cooperation if we needed to launch an aggressive anti-smear campaign.”

  “Your problem is my problem, Dr. Lowe, so sure.”

  “I’m happy to hear that.”

  “I’m happy to help. Since we are both happy, may I ask if the hospital board feels the same as the attorneys?”

  “I should find out this afternoon, but I expect them to agree with the attorneys.”

  “So, am I in the rotation tomorrow?”

  “Let’s assume yes, Dr. McCain, unless you hear from me otherwise.”

  “Good. Before I go, is everyone still worried about my office building?”

  Dr. Lowe said, “We will be talking about that this afternoon, I’m sure. I will let you know.”

  “FYI, my plans for the office building that I’m restoring are the same as for the other one I own. You were aware that I own two buildings, weren’t you?”

  “No, I wasn’t aware of a second building.”

  “Do you know where Daddyo’s Music is located?”

  Dr. Lowe replied, “Sure.”

  “That’s my building. I live upstairs and rent out the bottom. My plans for the new building are to do the same: office space on the bottom and up-scale apartments for rent on the top. Hopefully, that will resolve any issues you and the board have about me opening up my own clinic.”

  “Thank you very much, Dr. McCain. I’m sure the board will appreciate the new information.”

  Now that the meeting was over, I decided to sit, reclining back in the chair with my hands interlocked behind my head. “So, I have a day off then?”

  “Yes, I guess you do.”

  Quickly standing, I said, “I won’t take up any more of your time, Dr. Lowe. All in all, I’m going to turn lemons into lemonade. I have someone I would like to visit today anyway, and I have a beautiful red Mercedes convertible outside that is just begging me to take it for a spin.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you drove. The word around the hospital is that no one has ever seen you drive a car.”

  “There is more to me than meets the eye, Dr. Lowe. I own three cars; the newest addition is a 1992 Mercedes 500SL convertible parked outside.”

  “You’re making me think we pay our doctors too much,” he said with a smirk.

  “Why, Dr. Lowe, I think you are teasing me. Don’t worry; I got it for a steal since it was a bank repo with a blown motor and a slashed up interior. I know a guy that can keep an eye out for great deals like that if you are interested.”

  Dr. Lowe said, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m taken care of in the car department.”

  Keeping Dr. Lowe on a short leash seemed to be the best way to get through a discussion with him; it worked today. Maybe a visit with Chief Parker would go better the second time as well with the same approach.

  One could hope.

  CHAPTER 14

  Maybe it was the prospect of driving the Mercedes with the top down on a beautiful August afternoon, or maybe I was looking forward to my unscheduled appointment with Chief Parker, either way, I could feel myself smiling during the drive to Emmettsville. Chief Parker had got a pass on our first meeting; he was not going to be given the same consideration the second time around. My plan was simple. I was going to tell him to start investigating or else. I was still unclear myself on what the“or else”entailed. I figured it would come to me.

  My heart was racing slightly as I pulled up to the police station. Facing off with Dr. Lowe was one thing, but facing off with the Chief of Police in a small rural town in Tennessee was more than a little nerve racking. Furthermore, if he was involved with organized crime, then that complicated matters even more. Fortunately, my undercover work in the Navy had led to the arrest of several high-ranking officers, men who seemed infinitely more dangerous than a small town chief with a radiant smile. They were able to send trained military personnel after me, not six idiot civilians. This gave me a small boost of confidence; however, in the end, as I envisioned those six rednecks insulting my best friend, it was my rage that impelled me to walk into that police station.

  Two uniformed officers were talking to each other near the front desk as I entered. Both turned towards me as I approached; however, one retreated to his desk after telling the other officer he would talk to him later. I was greeted warmly and informed that Chief Parker was not in the office.

  I said, “When do you expect him back?”

  “Not sure exactly. I think he’s taking a late lunch.”

  “Officer Dunbar,” I said while pointing to his name tag, “We reported a man named Paul Deland missing Saturday night. Can you tell me if the officers were asked to continue looking for Paul yesterday or today?”

  His face turned a little white as I asked the quest
ion. “You’ll have to talk to the Chief on that one.”

  Just as I had expected, Chief Parker called off the search. What a bastard.

  “Late lunch, huh? I’ll tell you what. I’ll be back in an hour if I don’t find him before that.”

  In the end, it took approximately 15 minutes of driving to find Chief Parker. Officer Dunbar had been honest; the Chief was having a late lunch. He was at Ray’s Diner with another officer. I hoped it was merely a coincidence that I found him at Ray’s. I did not want to think that Ray had a hand in what happened outside his diner yesterday. The diner looked relatively empty. Chief Parker was sitting at the lunch counter with the other officer while Ray was behind the counter wiping things down. I had never worked in a restaurant, but I had eaten in one four to five times a week for the last four years, and one thing you can count on: there is always someone wiping something down somewhere.

  Ray spotted me immediately, his face lighting up as he recognized me. “Doctor, how are you? I know you liked the meatloaf, but I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

  “Hello, Ray. I didn’t expect to be back so soon either. Could I trouble you for a steak sandwich, medium, no fries? Vegetables, or slaw instead, please. And an iced tea the way I like it.”

  “Sure, coming right up.”

  The other officer had seen me come in but did not recognize me, and the Chief, whose back was to the front door, had not turned around yet.

  I said, “By the way, I will be eating with Chief Parker.”

  The Chief turned after hearing his name, his toothy grin in full force. The grin quickly diminished as he realized who was addressing him. “Dr. McCain, you’re here to see me?”

  “Yes, I am. And it’s not exactly a social call. So, Chief Parker, would you like to talk now, or would you like to talk in your office?”

  He turned to the other officer and asked him to excuse himself. Without waiting for him to start asking questions, I said, “I told you I used to be a Navy investigator. Well, I’ve been investigating. Didn’t take much, yet I know you are my suspect’s father, I know your town is full of liars, and I know it’s full of racists that are not particularly bright. Oh, and Jackie’s last name is Geddes. How am I doing so far?”