Deadly Conception

by Patrick Blake

  Christ. Here we go.

  A few hours later, Gabriel was agitated, restless, and hungry. He started to order room service, stopped mid-dial and hung up. Instead, he left his room and walked the half mile from the hotel to the nearby Subway and watched with a suspicious eye as the server prepared a Chicken & Bacon Ranch Melt sub. He stopped at a nearby gas station and picked up a couple of bottles of Pacifico beer and a large bottle of water. By the time he returned to his room, Gabriel was famished and wondered if his precautions were silly.

  Then he remembered his good friend, Pablo, toasted his memory and clicked play for the next set of autopsy videos. After several more hours, Gabriel clipped three short segments from the recordings and emailed the smaller files to his colleague, Neely Church, with a matching text.

  Neely, I know you’re done for the day, but I need immediate help. Can you check these videos out and tell me the numbers the man is dialing? My screen is too pixelated. Lemme know either way. There’s an extra week’s bonus or time off if you can get this to me before 7 tomorrow.

  Gabriel eased back into mini-suite couch and took another swig of his second beer.

  Raimy was right, he thought, Tanzler’s up to something.

  Tired, he drifted off to sleep and didn’t wake until his phone started buzzing.

  “Yeah. It’s Gabriel. Who’s this?”

  “Hi Mr. Sweeney, it’s Neely.”

  “Jesus, Neely. Stop calling me Mr. Sweeney. You make me feel old.”

  “Okay. Sorry, Mr. Swee…I mean, Gabriel. It’s just that you’re the boss and everything.”

  “Neely…please. Just call me Gabriel. What’s up? Did you get my message? What time is it?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry sir. It’s just after 1 in the morning. I did get your message right after you sent it. It sounded like you wanted this right away. So, I dug in. If it’s too late then I can take care of it tomorrow.”

  “No…no, that’s fine, Neely. Thank you. What’ve you got?”

  “I needed to bump up the resolution to see better. The videos were kinda grainy. I went to the office to use my equipment there. I don’t have the right stuff at my apartment.”

  “Thank you, Neely. I really appreciate it. Tell me what you got.”

  “Oh, right, sure. Well, I got all the numbers. They’re the same for each segment. I sent it to you on your mobile.”

  Gabriel checked his texts and saw the numbers.

  “Got it. And you’re sure? These are correct?”

  “Oh, absolutely. My office computer really enhanced the video quite well. No doubt in my mind. Those are the numbers.”

  “Neely, thank you so much. So, what’ll it be?”

  “Pardon me, sir?”

  “A week’s bonus or an extra week off?”

  “Oh, Mr. Sweeney, that’s not necessary.”

  “Neeeeeely?”

  “I’m sorry…Gabriel. I guess I’ll take the bonus. There’s a lot to do here. I can’t really take any time off.”

  “Okay, Neely. You got it. Now go back to your boyfriend and have some fun. All work and no play…”

  “Okay Mr.… um, Gabriel. Sure. I don’t have a boyfriend. Thanks. Let me know if you need anything else. I’m here for you.”

  Back in New York, Neely ended the call and blushed. I’m here for you? Jesus, Neely, you’re such an idiot. The man will never notice you. Stop throwing yourself at him.

  Gabriel jotted down the number, and then Googled it.

  When he saw the result, he compared it to a business card he had in his shoulder bag, and texted Raimy immediately.

  Raimy. I reviewed the videos. Tanzler called Det. Paolucci after each autopsy. Is that normal? It doesn’t seem normal. At all. We cannot trust the authorities.

  Chapter 49 – Thursday, August 9 (Boston)

  Raimy woke up, stiff from sleeping on the couch, as he had been since catching his future-ex-wife cheating.

  “I should have made her sleep on the sofa,” he grumbled as he ripped the covers off to get ready for the day.

  I’ll be damned if I leave this house. It’s my damn house, too!

  But before he could change and get out the door for quick jog, he picked up his phone and cleared a few messages. When he got to Gabriel’s middle-of-the-night text he changed his plans, fast. He showered, dressed, and dashed out the door with one bottled smoothie and a gingerbread muffin. His drive to the office was filled with stops and starts, on the road, and in his mind.

  We almost never call the investigating officer after an autopsy -- just send email. But maybe Tanzler and Paolucci are buddies and this is all an innocent coincidence? Who am I kidding? Didn’t I just see Tanzler planting lab reports on Pablo?

  Raimy debated himself for the entire traffic-snarled commute. He wasn’t certain where coincidence ended, and conspiracy started. He admitted his own self-preserving bias and wondered how much it paralyzed him from thinking straight.

  I’ve got to see those videos again. I’ve got to make sure.

  Reaching his office, Raimy noted that Tanzler had already left for the day, and no overnight cases awaited his attention. He turned on his computer, logged in and pulled up the surveillance videos he sent to Gabriel. Reviewing each one, this time to watch Tanzler’s calling patterns. After a few hours and several hot cups of coffee, Raimy had seen enough.

  Gabriel’s right. Tanzler called Paolucci’s number each time.

  Raimy pulled another pair of random overnight autopsies and checked if Tanzler made calls during those exams.

  Nope. He just emailed the police with updates – normal procedure.

  Raimy closed out the video archive and pulled up Google Maps, dropping a virtual pin where each of the bodies was found. Pablo Souza on Cambridge near Lynde. Asrani Patel in Boston Commons near the Hampton Dowling restaurant. Liam Lohan in Joe Moakley Park over in South Boston.

  Tanzler had called Paolucci for each of these three victims -- even though one of them, Lohan, hadn’t even been in the detective’s jurisdiction. Raimy shook his head.

  That settles it, he thought.

  Raimy reached for the phone, no longer giving a shitake mushroom what happened to him for those lab reports. It was time to tell his boss. But Arvind beat him to it. The phone trilled just before Raimy touched the handset.

  “Hello? This is Dr. Robinson.”

  “Raimy, it’s Arvind. I’m calling from Glasgow.”

  “I’m glad you called, Arvind. I was just about to call you. I know you’re busy with that pathology conference, but...”

  “Raimy, stop talking. This isn’t a social call. I received a very disturbing email today. I need to ask you some questions.”

  “Arvind, there’s something crazy going on here. I think Tanzler is in on it. I found…”

  “Raimy! Be quiet and listen. Did you print out any lab reports on any of our cases and give them to someone outside our office to post on the internet? This is important Raimy, so think carefully before you answer.”

  After a long pause, Raimy said, “Jesus, Arvind.” Which was as much of an admission as he could muster.

  “Dammit Raimy! This goes beyond me. The Board is already on this. This call is a courtesy to our friendship. But it’s out of my hands.”

  Raimy clammed up, the line was silent.

  “Are you there. Hello? Raimy?”

  “Just a minute, Arvind. Gimme a sec.”

  Raimy thought about his next move.

  Tanzler must have filed a complaint. Shit. That was fast. I know it’s a set up, but I did violate privacy. If I lie, then they’ll find out and any claim I make against Tanzler for planting evidence will be discredited. Jesus. They’re killing people. Whoever ‘they’ are. And Tanzler’s working with Paolucci. I’m sure of it. So, I can’t trust the cops. To hell with it. I’ll tell the truth and let the chips fall. That probably means I’ll be put on immediate leave, maybe with pay…maybe not. At least the full story comes out. Especially about the mysterious chemical.

&nbs
p; “Raimy! I have to jump off soon. Can you answer me?”

  Jump off...jump off? Raimy’s memory flashed on the Jaws bridge.

  What was it that Gabriel said? Sometimes you just have to jump.

  “Raimy, answer me! I gotta go soon.”

  “Arvind? Arvind! Yes, yes. I copied suspicious lab reports on some of our cases. I told you about one and you dismissed it. Now there are two more and I’ve got evidence that Tanzler is mixed up in at least two murders with a dirty city cop. I wanted to give the reports to someone outside our office, but I never handed them over. There’s mo…”.

  Dr. Bhatt cut him off. “Raimy, you’re raving. You have to leave. It’s out of my hands. You hear me?”

  Raimy put the handset down and hung up on his boss. He probably had about five minutes before someone from HR and security knocked on his door.

  He immediately downloaded all the lab reports, summaries, notes and videos related to the Lohan, Patel, and Souza cases. He saved them to his Google Drive. He didn’t bother trying to delete his office computer hard drive. There were too many network redundancies and back-ups built in.

  Then he pulled the memory chip from his work-issued mobile phone, pocketed it and dropped the phone into the half-full coffee pot. Next, he withdrew his Datawatch Key Card from his wallet, disengaged the office keys from his keyring, and removed his employee ID card and lanyard from around his neck.

  He went into his work email settings and established an out-of-office message for his business email and then he redirected incoming email to his personal email address.

  By the time HR and security showed up, Raimy was ready.

  “Dr. Robinson. I’m Anya Temaksa from HR. And this is Gilbert…”

  “I know who you are. And I think I know what you’re doing here. Gilbert…it’s good to see you. How’s Vanessa? The kids?”

  “We’re all well, Rai…Dr. Robinson. Nice of you to ask. I’m sorry about all this.”

  “Think nothing of it, Gilbert.”

  Raimy liked Gilbert. He ran the front security desk. His boys and Raimy’s occasionally competed against each other in intra-district soccer league play. Temaska was an HR ghoul, plain and simple.

  “Dr. Robinson, may I continue?”

  “By all means.”

  “As I was saying, I received a verbal order from Dr. Bhatt a few minutes ago. His written order is on the way. You are being placed on immediate administrative leave with pay pending the results of an inquiry. Please turn in your employee ID, key card, office keys, and mobile phone.”

  Raimy motioned to his desk where everything requested was neatly lined up, except for the phone which sat in a brown puddle.

  “Dr. Robinson, what happened to the phone?”

  “I don’t know. It looks like someone spilled coffee on it.”

  “Okay, whatever. Gilbert will escort you out of the building.”

  The adrenaline-powered high that had carried Raimy through the past few minutes abated as he was escorted out of the building. He’d managed to secure the proof he needed to indict Tanzler and he’d collected the state government reports with the mysterious chemical data. He sent copies to Arvind, and he had copies for himself, too. He whispered a thankful prayer to Pablo.

  “Dude, hanging out with you made me do some smart things today, especially with my phone and computer. Thank you. Gabriel and I will avenge you. Count on it.”

  Raimy was nearly out of the medical facility’s front door when he heard his name.

  “Dr. Robinson, wait. You have an urgent call. It’s about your son,” said the lobby concierge. She looked distressed.

  He took the phone. “This is Dr. Robinson…what?...he what? Oh my god…I’m on my way.”

  Chapter 50

  Raimy arrived at the Newton-Wellesley Hospital emergency room in near panic.

  “Where’s Carl? I’m Dr. Robinson. I want to see my son. Where’s my son?” he repeated wildly until the attending physician showed up and led Raimy to his teenage son.

  “Hey, Dad.” Carl sounded a lot better than he looked. His right eye was swollen, badly. Nose bloodied and bruised. Lower lip showing half a dozen stitches. Left arm splinted in a sling. “I was mugged outside of school. I got a couple of punches in but it’s fair to say the dude kicked my ass. Damn southpaw. Oh well, he didn’t get my wallet. Sucka.”

  Raimy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his son’s bravado. So, he did both, and hugged his boy gently.

  The emergency doctor broke in. “We tried calling your cell, Dr. Robinson, but the calls didn’t go through.”

  Of course, not. Raimy thought. I just turned in my phone.

  “Your son was beat pretty badly, but he’ll be okay. No permanent damage. I want to keep tabs on his eye, though. The police will be in to take his statement shortly.”

  Raimy sat with his son, checked with the medical staff, and observed while a Newton Police Officer took Carl’s statement. Shortly after, Raimy’s soon-to-be ex-wife arrived and the tension in the recovery room quickly elevated.

  Raimy tried to break the ice. “They want to keep Carl overnight. Probably release him tomorrow. I can’t believe he was mugged. That just doesn’t really happen in Newton,” he said.

  Her response was cold. “I’ll stay with Carl,” she said, and kept her back to Raimy.

  He decided to leave and gave his son a hug. “Get some rest, tough guy. I love you.”

  In the hospital parking lot Raimy spotted a police squad car driving away from his sedan. Then he saw an envelope tucked under his windshield wiper.

  A parking ticket? He thought.

  It wasn’t a ticket…it was a warning.

  Mind your business or next time your son won’t be so lucky.

  Terrified, Raimy sat in his car re-reading the typed message. Scared for his son, his family, himself.

  I need to call Gabriel.

  Raimy drove to his neighborhood shopping center and stepped into the AT&T store where he purchased a pay-as-you-go burner smartphone. He inserted the memory chip from his one-time work phone and immediately called Gabriel as he drove home. Voicemail.

  I’m scared, man. The police are definitely in on this. I’m sure of it. The bastards just put my son in the hospital, and they’re threatening worse if I don’t keep quiet. We can’t go to the cops. We don’t know how deep this goes.

  Minutes later he pulled into his garage, overheard the house phone ringing, and hustled inside to answer.

  “Hello? Who’s calling?”

  “Raimy, I’m glad I caught you. Your mobile number went right to a recording saying the number is out of service. Everything okay?”

  “Oh, hey, Cheryl. Yeah, I’m okay. I had to get a new phone. I’ll send you the new number after this call. What’s up?”

  Cheryl Schefkind was Raimy’s divorce lawyer. Young, smart, tough, and expensive.

  “I have bad news.”

  “Of course you do. Why not?”

  “I’m sorry. This was a blindside. I didn’t see it coming. I think I can reverse it…but it’ll take a couple weeks.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your future-ex was granted pendente lite relief to have you move out of the marital home until the divorce is final.”

  “What? That’s crazy. She cheated. Why in all that’s just and fair do I have to move out?”

  “She convinced a judge to grant her motion citing past abuse.”

  “What? What past abuse? What the hell is going on?”

  “She claimed that when you overheard her phone call you said, ‘You cheating whore. Get the hell out of my house before I change my mind and choke the damned life out of you’.”

  “But – I don’t know – if I was mad maybe I…”

  His lawyer cut him off before he could make any damning admission. “I don’t care if you said it or not. That claim was sufficient for the judge to grant the motion.”

  “Cheryl, this is nuts. I never hit her or anything. Gosh dang it all
. Can you fix this?

  “I’m pretty sure I can. But it’ll take at least a week, maybe two. For now, you need to pack some things and move out. Is there a friend you can stay with? A family member?”

  “Now? I have to do this now?”

  “Yes, now. I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour. This is serious stuff. The whole move out is supposed to be supervised by Newton Police Officers. Is anyone there with you now?”

  “No. No one is home. What about my kids? When do I see them? Where do I see them? My son is in the hospital, and -- ”

  “One thing at a time. Right now, you need to start packing a suitcase. If the police arrive then invite them in. Be cooperative. Remember, they report on things like anger, threats, and stuff. So, keep your cool. They are not your friends, but they are not your enemy.”

  “Awright. Dang! This is bull spit.”

  “I’m on it. Just keep cool. Pack. And get out. Make sure you take your laptop, passport, credit cards…anything you don’t want her to get a hold of. Let me know where you’re staying. And send me your new number.”

  Raimy ended the call and looked out the window. He saw a Newton Police patrol car pull up. He went to the front door, opened it wide, and smiled.

  I don’t trust you mother truckers at all, he thought.

  “Hi, officers. I know why you’re here. Come on in. I just found out, so I need to pack up a few things. Help yourselves to a soda or water in the kitchen.”

  Raimy waited for the two officers to step into the house. He shut the front door and headed to the master bedroom to pack a suitcase, a garment bag, toiletries, and the things Cheryl suggested. He was tempted to use some of his wife’s lipstick to write “screw you, whore” on the bathroom mirror, but thought better of it.

  He loaded his car trunk, saw the officers out, backed out his car, shut the garage and drove off.