Robert B. Parker's Damned if You Do

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Robert B. Parker's Damned if You Do Page 5

by Michael Brandman


  “Alzheimer’s?”

  “That’s the one. Turned our lives completely upside down.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jesse said.

  Hopkins sighed.

  “You wanted to see me regarding Golden Horizons,” he said.

  “I did.”

  “You know that I had some issues with them. I’m not their biggest fan.”

  “Can you tell me about it?”

  Hopkins sat back in his chair.

  “Craig’s faculties deteriorated quickly. I tried my best to care for him on my own, but when that became impossible, I brought him to Golden Horizons.”

  Jesse nodded.

  “He wasn’t your ideal patient,” Hopkins said. “He was on the decline, and as a result, behaved erratically.”

  “How so?”

  “He was a runner. Given the slightest opening, he would attempt to sneak out of the building and run away. A couple of times he got past their security and showed up at our apartment. Which was a nightmare.”

  “Yet you returned him there?”

  “I did. Yes.”

  “And you chose not to move him elsewhere?”

  “Not at that time.”

  “How did that work out?”

  “It was all right for a while. They heightened the dosage level of his medications, and he calmed down to the point where he didn’t try to escape anymore.”

  “And you were satisfied.”

  “Not really. I generally work late and frequently don’t leave the office until well after Golden Horizons’ visiting hours are over. Sometimes I’d stop in to see him on my way home. Frequently I found no attendants present. And Craig was always asleep. Even if I came by at lunchtime, he was asleep. What I found even more troublesome was that he appeared to be more than just sleeping. He seemed comatose. After one particularly disturbing visit, I elected to remove him from the home.”

  “What was so disturbing?”

  “He had been shackled to his bed. Wrists and ankles.”

  “What did you do?’

  “I screamed bloody murder is what I did. I confronted the doctor in charge. Binky something. When I threatened to blow the whistle, he reluctantly agreed to allow me to move Craig to another facility. But he didn’t make it easy. He treated me terribly. Once I had to be restrained from strangling the bastard.”

  “Binky?”

  “Damned right, Binky. Binky. I still get angry whenever I think of that son of a bitch.”

  “Why didn’t you report this to us?”

  “You mean to the police?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know, Jesse. I guess I thought that it wouldn’t do any good. That it would get ugly. A ‘my word versus theirs’ kind of thing. Moving him seemed the smartest choice.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “At the Goodfellow’s Home. They care for him extremely well there. They involve him in activities that challenge and invigorate him. He seems happy. I kick myself that I didn’t bring him there in the first place.”

  “And you never took action against Golden Horizons?”

  “No.”

  “Because?”

  “Because Binky took me aside and told me that the new owners would sic their lawyers on me and drown me in costly and time-consuming litigation if I did. He said that they’d bury me and my practice.”

  “So you simply walked away.”

  “Not so simply. They nailed me with what they called an early-exit penalty. Cost me a small fortune. But at least he’s out of there and doing better. That’s really all I care about. Why did you want to know about this, Jesse?”

  “Fact finding.”

  “What fact finding?”

  “A friend of mine was a patient there. He was also a runner, as you put it. They were sedating him, and as was the case with Craig, restraining him. The company that now owns the place has a history of perceived patient malfeasance, but despite complaints, their high-powered lawyers always manage to clear them of any wrongdoing charges.”

  “Like they did in Marlborough?”

  “Yes.”

  “And they do it by immediately rectifying the circumstances that brought about the complaints.”

  “Yes.”

  “Not exactly an ethical lot,” Hopkins said.

  “Not exactly.”

  “And you plan to hold them accountable?”

  “You bet your sweet bippy I plan to hold them accountable,” Jesse said.

  “How?”

  “Surreptitiously.”

  “Meaning?”

  “They won’t see me coming till it’s too late to stop me.”

  Jesse arrived at the station and headed for his office. Molly quickly followed.

  “Lots of activity,” she said.

  “Five bucks says Marty Reagan called,” Jesse said.

  “Twice.”

  “Aren’t you impressed by my prescience?”

  “Not really.”

  “They’re mistreating their patients. They tranquilize and shackle them. They did it with Donnie. They did it with Sheldon Lee, and they did it with Norris Hopkins’s partner, Craig Diamond.”

  “Proof?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “To what end?”

  “I’m working on that, too.”

  “Are you going to tell me about it?”

  “Not yet.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.”

  Then he picked up the phone and returned Marty Reagan’s call.

  “You know what I find amazing,” Reagan said when he answered.

  “What,” Jesse said.

  “How often the first thing people say to me is how pissed off at you they are.”

  “Wow. I’m impressed.”

  “So now you’re tangling with a major real estate corporation?”

  “They’re bent.”

  “That hasn’t been proven.”

  “Are you aware of their track record?”

  “Amherst Properties?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you referring to the so-called mistreatment of patients at their facility in Marlborough?”

  “Yes.”

  “They rectified that situation. No charges were pressed. In fact, no judgment has ever been rendered against them.”

  “Well, they’ve sure unrectified the conditions here. They’re sedating patients. Tying them down, too.”

  “You’re talking about Donald Jacobs?”

  “Donald Jacobs and at least two more that I know of. And I’m betting that it’s endemic.”

  “Whatever you think you’ve got on them, Jesse, it’ll never stick. Even if what you’ve got is true. The record shows that there were others before you who complained, and in response Amherst immediately stopped doing whatever it was that had generated the complaints. History tells us that there’s not a chance in hell you can nail them.”

  Jesse didn’t say anything.

  “They want me to charge you,” Reagan said.

  “Because of Donnie?”

  “Because you removed him from the facility without honoring their protocols.”

  “That’s a lot of crap.”

  “That’s not what they’re saying.”

  “Talk to his daughter.”

  “They’re claiming that you strong-armed him out of there.”

  “They’re lying.”

  “That’s what they’re claiming.”

  “Did you get the lab reports?”

  “They confirm that there were drugs in Donnie’s system, but Amherst is saying they had to sedate him or else he’d run away again.”

  “What about the bruises on his body,” Jesse said. “Why was he so afraid?”

  “Drop this, Jesse.”

  “It stinks, Marty.”

  “Be that as it may, I’m advising you to drop it. I’ll get them to forget about charging you, but you’ll have to back off.”

  Jesse didn’t say anything.

  “Jesse?”


  “What.”

  “This is a big-time real estate operation. They’ve got serious juice. If you go up against them, you’ll lose.”

  “Says you,” Jesse said.

  “Says Aaron,” Reagan said, referring to District Attorney Aaron Silver.

  Jesse didn’t say anything.

  “I know you, Jesse. This won’t sit well with you. Don’t be a jerk. Drop it.”

  “Thanks, Marty.”

  “Jesse?”

  “Okay. Okay. I heard you,” Jesse said, and hung up.

  Nelly wants to know who’s calling,” the voice on the other end of the line said.

  Jesse was sitting in his office with the door closed.

  “Is this Fat Boy Nelly,” he said.

  “Maybe you don’t hear so good. I said, Nelly wants to know who’s calling.”

  “Jesse Stone.”

  “Who in the fuck is Jesse Stone?”

  “Thomas Walker gave me your number.”

  “Thomas Walker give you my number? He say for you to call Fat Boy Nelly?”

  “He did.”

  “Why he do that?”

  “You’re Fat Boy Nelly?”

  “Who the fuck else I be?”

  “I wasn’t certain.”

  “Are you certain now, motherfucker?”

  “I’d like to talk with you.”

  “You are talking with me.”

  “In person.”

  “What in person. You best start making some sense here, Jesse Stone, or Nelly gonna hang the fuck up.”

  “I’m the police chief of Paradise,” Jesse said.

  “You the what?”

  Jesse didn’t say anything.

  “What in the fuck do the police chief of Paradise want with Fat Boy Nelly?”

  “I’m investigating the murder of a young girl.”

  “The murder? You think I murdered some young girl?”

  “No, I don’t. But I think you might know who she is.”

  Nelly didn’t say anything.

  “You still with me,” Jesse said.

  “Why you think Nelly might know her?”

  “Thomas Walker.”

  “That bullshit motherfucker.”

  “I don’t really care about the politics between you and Thomas Walker. I’m looking for help in solving a murder. Girl didn’t deserve to die the way she did. You know what I’m talking about?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. Why you need to see me?”

  “Better for our relationship,” Jesse said.

  “Relationship? What relationship? We ain’t got no relationship.”

  “Listen to me, Nelly. You already know you can help me. Name the time and place. I’ll come alone. I want to look in your eyes so I can determine for myself whether or not you’re full of shit.”

  “Say what?”

  “You heard me. Think about it. Ask around. I’m not out to fuck with you. I want justice for this girl who’s currently lying on a refrigerated slab with a tag tied to her foot that says ‘Jane Doe.’ Whoever she was, whatever she did, she had a name. I want to know that name. I’m what’s standing between her dignity and an unmarked grave. You understand me, Nelly?”

  “I’ll call you back,” he said, and ended the call.

  Jesse put the phone down. He sat back in his chair for a while. Then he picked up his mug and went out to the coffeemaker. He had just finished pouring himself a fresh cup when Molly shouted out to him.

  “Call for you on line three,” she said.

  “Who is it?”

  “He wouldn’t say.”

  Jesse returned to his office with the coffee.

  “Jesse Stone,” he said, picking up the call.

  “You know the gazebo in Paradise Cove?”

  “I do.”

  “Nelly be there in half an hour,” he said, and hung up the phone.

  Jesse slowly pulled his cruiser into Paradise Cove. The gazebo sat on a small promontory, located at the water’s edge, on the curve of an inlet whose churning waters merged with the Atlantic in the near distance. Several yachts and small craft were sailing the sunlit cove. A handful of children played on the sandy beach nearby. The screeching of gulls interrupted the quiet. A warm breeze carried with it the pungent smell of the ocean.

  On one of the benches inside the gazebo sat a large young African American man. He was wearing a black-and-gold Pittsburgh Steelers jersey that hung loosely over his baggy jeans. On the back, the name Roethlisberger was embroidered above the number seven. He had on high-top black sneakers without laces. Gold crosses hung from each of his pierced ears. There were two heavy gold chains around his neck. A Steelers cap, worn backward, was perched on his head. He had a small patch of facial hair on his otherwise beardless chin.

  Jesse sat on the bench opposite him. The young man stared at him guilelessly.

  “I never met no police chief before,” Nelly said.

  “Am I fearful and intimidating?”

  “You don’t look so bad.”

  “And here I was expecting you to be quaking in your Nikes.”

  Nelly didn’t say anything.

  “Why do they call you Fat Boy Nelly?”

  “Why you want to know?”

  “Curiosity, I guess.”

  “I always had weight issues. I always been gay.”

  “You’re a gay pimp?”

  “I never said nothin’ about bein’ no pimp.”

  Then he smiled and said, “But yeah, I guess that’s right.”

  The smile that lit up Nelly’s face was boyish and sincere. He was an attractive young man, in large part due to an air of innocence that masked whatever cunning and menace he kept hidden.

  “The girls like me ’cause they know I got no sex issues with them,” Nelly said. “They know I look out for them.”

  “Thomas Walker?”

  “Piece of shit,” he said.

  “He speaks well of you,” Jesse said.

  “Not behind my back. I scare Thomas Walker.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause I’m the future. He afraid I gonna ace him out of business.”

  Jesse didn’t say anything.

  “He know I ain’t scared of him. He know I would put a bullet in his head soon as look at him. He ain’t never seen nothin’ like Nelly before. We be worlds apart. You care about any of this shit?”

  “Not really,” Jesse said. “I’m a big fan of peace in the valley.”

  “Which means?”

  “Bluster doesn’t interest me. If you boys are gonna play to the death, play somewhere else.”

  “Don’t make no trouble on your turf?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I knew a girl went missing,” Nelly said. “Maybe she the one you looking for.”

  “How did you know her?”

  “I try to get her in my stable. Thomas try to get her in his stable, too. She say no to us both.”

  “Why?”

  “She want to be independent. She don’t think she need anyone to look after her.”

  “You try to convince her otherwise?”

  “Yeah. She tell me she think it over. Then I don’t see her no more. I figure she could be your Jane Doe.”

  “How is it she caught your attention?”

  “She different. She smart. She not just another hooker. And that’s not to say she ain’t great-looking or enthusiastic about her job. She understand the business she in, and she already have an impressive customer base to prove it.”

  “She have a name?”

  “When she talk with me she say her name was Janet Becquer. She pronounce it Becker but spell it different.”

  “She have an address,” Jesse said.

  “You mean where she live?”

  “Or where she came from?”

  “She from here. She say she start in the business here.”

  “Anything else?”

  “What anything else?”

  “Friends. Customers. Any other names?”

  “W
hy you want to know that?”

  “I think she was killed by one of her customers.”

  “Nelly don’t know nothin’ about that.”

  “Can you ask around?”

  “You want me to ask around about Janet Becquer’s customers?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think about it.”

  “Anything you can learn about her could be helpful.”

  Nelly didn’t say anything.

  “Anything that might lead us to her friends or family.”

  “You gonna deputize me for doin’ this shit?”

  “You going to enroll in the Police Academy?”

  Nelly broke into a full-faced grin.

  “Yeah. Right,” he said.

  “Customers?”

  “I ask around. Maybe one of them other girls might know something.”

  “Thanks, Nelly.”

  “I never met no cop who be nice to me before,” Nelly said.

  “First time for everything.”

  “Yeah. I call you I find something.”

  Jesse took out one of his cards and wrote his cell phone number on it. He handed it to Nelly.

  “Call me on my cell,” he said.

  “If I find somethin’.”

  Jesse extended his hand. Nelly looked at him for a moment. Then he reached out and gripped it.

  “You ain’t so bad,” he said.

  On his way back to the station, Jesse took a detour. He parked in front of Golden Horizons, entered the main building, rang for the elevator, and took it to the fourth floor.

  When he walked into the special care unit, he was immediately spotted by the nurse on duty, the same nurse with whom he had the altercation regarding Donnie Jacobs’s medication. She stared at him and then reached for the phone on her desk.

  Jesse looked into a few of the various rooms and found two patients sprawled out on their beds and another asleep in his wheelchair. It was just before noon.

  He was getting ready to leave when the elevator doors opened and Binky Morrow stepped out, still wearing the full-length white lab coat with his name embroidered on it. He was followed by Chuck Dempsey. Morrow called to Jesse from across the room.

  “Mr. Stone,” he said. “You wait right there.”

  Jesse stopped and watched as Morrow made his way toward him.

  “Binky,” he said. “How nice to see you.”

 

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