Severed

by Corey Brown

  “C’mon, we can’t trust anyone on this thing. If we’re going to solve this mess, we gotta do it ourselves. These guys, Slater and Hansen, I don’t know jack shit about them. They might be clean, but who knows? They might be connected to Nick’s death. Maybe these guys killed him. The only people we know for sure who aren’t connected are you and me. And right now I’m having second thoughts about you. He’s your boy, Captain. You gotta do right by him, you gotta bring this thing home.”

  “You’re not,” Laroche says. “The only detective working for me, you know.”

  A faint smile shows on Cody’s face, he knows this is a done deal. He and Russell are not close friends, they do not drink together, but they respect each other. Russell had been brought back from Chicago several years ago to help clean house. Cody has seen his captain go to the mat for more than one policeman. He has also seen Laroche take several cops down. Russell is hard to get to know but you can trust him, if you walk a straight line.

  “I know,” Cody says. “Any of the other guys can handle this, but---”

  “Don’t press it, Briggs,” Laroche interrupts. “If I can pull this off, we’ll see where it goes.”

  “Fair enough. Just let me know when we have it. Okay?”

  “Maybe.”

  Leaning against the trunk of his car, waiting for Jamie, Cody’s mind is caught up in the news of Nick’s death. A breeze blowing through the parking garage brings the smells of downtown, filling his senses. Cody takes in the odors, closes his eyes and considers this next, unpleasant task. Nick is dead, probably murdered, and it falls to him, and Jamie, to break the news to Nick’s fiancée.

  Cody thinks about how it should be said, who should say it, wonders why Nick had been in the swamp at all. Instinct tells him Nick was murdered, but there is no way to be certain. Only time and questions and luck will spotlight the truth.

  Jamie’s black Dodge Intrepid rolls to a quiet stop next to Cody. She kills the engine and sits for a moment, gathering her wits. Cody gives her a moment then lifts the car door handle.

  “Ready?”

  Jamie nods. “I suppose. She looks away, shrugs. “This is tough, you know?”

  “You don’t have do this. Jamie, honey, please go home.”

  A sad smile crosses her face. “Julia will need a friend and I don’t know who she has, now that Nick is gone.”

  Cody looks at his wife. Jamie is much younger and her youthful presence seems to exaggerate his own age. She has a soft, round, face; a pretty smile and large brown eyes. Jamie’s brown hair curls away at the neck making her seem taller than she actually is.

  Cody wonders what Jamie sees in him. Her alluring beauty, virtually unchanged since their wedding over twelve years ago, still attracts the twenty-something men. She could have had anyone she chose and, yet, she chose him.

  “C’mon,” Cody says. He kisses her forehead. “We’ll do this together.”

  The ride to the sixth floor ends much too quickly. Just before the elevator doors open Cody slides his hand up the small of Jamie’s back and says, “Don’t worry, you are ready.”

  Before she can answer they are staring at the gold lettering on a massive oak door. Doctor Glenn Harris, M.D., Obstetrics and Pediatrics.

  Julia Turano looks up from her desk, she smiles when she sees Cody and Jamie.

  “What’re you two doing here?” She asks, brightly. “Don’t tell me you’re expecting, Jamie. I don’t remember you having an appointment with Doctor Harris today.”

  Then Julia knows something is wrong and her smile vanishes. “It’s Nick isn’t it?” She says, her voice falling. “He called yesterday saying he wouldn’t be home. He said everything was okay but I just knew----” Her words are choked off by a rising swell of emotion.

  In a heartbeat Jamie is at Julia’s side, kneeling.

  “What happened?” Julia says, as the tears begin to flow. “Is he all right?”

  Cody leans into the hallway leading to the examination rooms. He looks left then right and sees a nurse. Pulling his badge, Cody says, “New Orleans Police, I’m Detective Briggs. Is there an empty room I can use?”

  “Um, sure, last door on the left.” She points down the hallway. “What’s wrong? Should I notify Doctor Harris?”

  Cody glances back at Julia, considers the nurse’s question and nods. “Yeah, that would be a good idea.” Then he turns to Jamie “Why don’t you and Julia come on back here.”

  Without a reply Jamie helps Julia to her feet and the three of them make their way down the hall, into the examination room.

  Once inside, Cody closes the door and looks at Julia. She is seated in a small, metal chair on the other side of the room. She appears small and helpless, her eyes already swelling, turning red. Jamie is, again, kneeling at her side. Cody swallows, wishes he had this investigation, wants to be on the job. He does not want to be here.

  “What--” Julia’s words catch. “What happened?”

  Cody hesitates. Drawing in a measured breath he says, “I’m sorry Julia, Nick is dead.”

  Julia’s face contorts as pain silences her and she buries her face in Jamie’s shoulder.

  Cody starts to speak, but Jamie looks up at him, shakes her head.

  Frustrated, Cody crosses his arms. He doesn’t want to wait or waste time, he wants to get on with things but Jamie’s signal tells him not to press it.

  After a time Jamie nods, his cue to begin the investigation.

  “Julia,” Cody says, “I won’t sugarcoat this. I wish I could, but there’s no way around it. Nick is dead. A game warden found him out in the swamp, in the Biloxi Wildlife Area.”

  Julia pulls away from Jamie and stares at Cody, a confused expression on her face. “What? Nick hates the outdoors. Why would he be there?”

  “I don’t know. I was hoping that maybe you might have some idea. But obviously you don’t.”

  “No,” Julia says, her voice becoming quiet. “Nick didn’t tell me about anything he was working on.”

  “Did you know that Nick was working with a covert team for the last three months?”

  Julia nods weakly. “Yes. I knew about that.”

  “Did he ever say why?”

  She shakes her head and the tears begin to slip out again. “I....just don’t understand. How did he die?” Then, momentarily, she steels herself, drawing in a shaky breath. “Was he murdered?”

  Cody lowers himself to one knee, runs his fingers through his hair, looks up at her and says, “Off the record? I think so. The fact that Nick isn’t the outdoor type, and that you didn’t know where he was tells me it was foul play. But whether he was killed intentionally or by mistake, I won’t know for sure until I check some things out. The coroner is doing the autopsy soon. I hope that sheds some light on all of this.”

  “Can I see him?” Julia says.

  “No, you can’t,” Cody says, flatly. He draws a deep breath and exhales slowly. “I’m afraid the alligators got to him before the warden did.” Cody puts a hand on her knee. “Julia, I’m sorry. There just isn’t much left of him.”

  Jamie glances at him sharply. Her look tells him to be more kind, to choose his words more carefully. He looks away, almost embarrassed.

  This brings on a new swell of pain for Julia. Only this time her sobs are not silent, they come on hard and with intensity. Jamie pulls her close and whispers, “Oh, Julia, I’m sorry.”

  There is a light knock on the door then it pops open a few inches.

  “May I come in?” The man says

  Quickly, Cody slips into the hallway, gently closing the door behind himself.

  “Doctor Harris?” Cody says.

  The man nods and says, “I’m Doctor Harris. Julia works for me. You are?”

  “Detective Briggs, NOPD,” Cody says, showing his badge again.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “No,” Cody replied, shaking his head. “Julia’s fiancée is dead.”

  “What?”

  Harris’s face turns
pale and his legs seem to buckle. Stumbling to a nearby chair, he steadies himself momentarily then slumps into it. His mouth is suddenly dry as his mind echoes Cody’s words.

  “I….I can’t believe it,” Harris stammers.

  “Are you okay, Doctor?” Cody says, a little surprised at Harris’s response. “Did you know Nicholas Wheaton?”

  Looking up, Doctor Harris asks, “How’d he die? Was it an accident?”

  “I can’t go into that, Doctor. Why do you----?”

  “Tell me,” Harris interrupts. “I have to know.”

  “Why?” Cody said. “What do you know about Nick Wheaton?”

  Harris looks away. “This wasn’t an accident. This is my fault,” he says, absently. “This is all my fault, I know it is.”

  A doorknob turns and a stocky nurse steps out of an examination room, leaving the door open slightly. Inside, a young woman, well into her pregnancy, sits staring at the doctor. Harris does not notice his patient or the nurse, who heard the tail end of his comments, she heard him blaming himself for something.

  Now, someone else, another nurse, is watching from the end of the hall. Her gaze has not escaped Cody’s attention. He can hear Julia’s sobs through the closed door, he can see it all getting out of hand.

  “Excuse me, Doctor Harris,” the first nurse says. “Mrs. Gallagher is ready for you.”

  Quickly, Cody slips behind the nurse and shuts the door to the patient room.

  “I’m Detective Briggs, Ma’am. Is there someone else that can see Mrs. Gallagher?”

  “It’s my fault,” Harris repeats, shaking his head.

  “What’s your fault?” The nurse asks, growing worried. “Is everything all right?”

  “Doctor Harris has just received some bad news,” Cody says. “He’s a little shaken, that’s all. Is his patient in need of immediate medical attention?”

  “Oh, no, not at all. It’s just a routine checkup.”

  “Good. Please explain to her that Doctor Harris is unavailable. And be discreet, okay?”

  “Um, all right,”She looks down at Harris, still crumpled in the metal chair. “Are you all right, Doctor?”

  Cody catches Harris by the elbow, helps him to his feet and says, "C’mon, let’s go to your office.”

  Without missing a beat, Cody flashes his badge at the nurse who has been watching from down the hall and says, “Detective Briggs, NOPD.” Cody points. “My wife is in this room with Ms. Turano. Please assist her, if she needs it. Then cancel the rest of today’s appointments.”

  The nurse looks to Harris for confirmation and says, “Doctor?”

  Harris doesn’t seem to hear her. Instead he mutters, again, about how it is his fault.

  Cody gives the nurse a look and says, “Trust me on this one. Just clear the Doctor’s schedule, he’ll thank you later.”

  Once in his office, Harris sits down hard behind his desk. The leather desk chair seems to swallow him, making his body look small and frail. Harris is about twenty pounds overweight, his white lab coat pulling tight at the buttons and thinning hair makes him look older than his fifty-two years. But his round face compensates, giving him an almost boyish appearance.

  Cody stands on the other side of Harris’ office, arms folded across his chest. Looking around, it is clear Doctor Harris has done well for himself. The various artifacts scattered throughout the room seem to be originals. Finely bound books on a cherry bookshelf have the appearance of antiquity and images of art and science come together as hand-painted oils share wall space with diplomas.

  As a cop, Cody doesn’t live the high life, but he’s seen enough good living over the years to recognize real wealth.

  Cody waits a few moments, doesn’t want to rush things. But he doesn’t feel like being patient, either. This day is already messed up enough and Cody is anxious to find a starting point.

  “Okay Doctor,” he says. “Want to fill me in, what’s going on?”

  Harris draws a long, deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Nick was working on something because of me.”

  “Want to explain that? I understood he was still on the city payroll.”

  “I don’t mean it that way. Nick was following up on some information I gave him. That’s why he had left homicide.”

  Harris knew? How did Glen Harris know Nick was attached to that special detail? Cody is stunned but tries to appear otherwise. “What makes you think he was no longer in homicide?”

  Harris pulls his hands down across his face, massages his temples. “I know, okay?” Harris says, stiffly. He sighs, softer now. “I know, because he was investigating some policemen on the vice squad. I know because I gave Nick the information that led him to them.”

  Cody finds it difficult to hide his astonishment. How the hell did Harris know Nick worked in vice? This is troublesome, Harris seems to know more about this than anyone and, worse, Cody doesn’t know anything about Harris. At the same time, it is the first real clue to Nick’s death.

  “Tell me more,” Cody says. “How’d this all come about?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got plenty of time.”

  Harris shifts in his seat, as if he is going to stand. “I should see Julia.”

  “Jamie is with her.”

  Harris narrows his eyes in suspicion. “What assurances do I have that you aren’t part of his death? How do I know I can trust you?”

  “I’ve known Nick for years. We were partners until he went covert.” Cody jabs his thumb back toward the examination rooms. “If I were on the wrong side of this thing, would I bring my wife along?”

  Harris thinks about it for a moment then says, “I don’t know, would you? If you’d killed Nick would you care about your wife? If that’s who she really is.”

  “If that were the case, you’d be dead by now.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Maybe you need to know what I know then you kill me.”

  Cody stares at him. For an upper class white bread, Harris is no fool. And he’s suddenly sporting a big pair of balls, an interesting change from only a few moments ago. Just what did that mean? Was Harris faking the shock or has he simply gotten his mind around the possibilities of what could be happening? Cody pulls his cell phone, dials information and hands the phone to Harris.

  “Ask for Police District One,” Cody says. “When a police dispatcher answers ask for Captain Laroche, tell them it’s Cody Briggs.”

  Harris takes the phone, hears the directory service operator say, “What city, please?” Harris asks to be connected to Police District One. Then a dispatcher answers and Harris asks for the Captain.

  After a moment, a gruff-sounding voice says, “Laroche here, what’s up Cody?”

  Harris hesitates.

  “Briggs?” Russell says.

  “Um, this is not Detective Briggs. My name is Doctor Glen Harris and I’m calling to verify the detective’s credentials. Which, I think, you’ve just done.”

  “Oh?” Russell grunts. “Describe him.”

  Harris opens his mouth to speak but stops short. He eyes Cody then says to Russell, “You first.”

  Now Russell hesitates, thinks about protesting, figures Cody probably initiated the call. “Mid-forties,” Russell says. “Six foot plus, gray hair and a rectangular face, carries a Smith and Wesson forty caliber, a real pain in the ass.”

  Harris smiles and says to Cody, “What kind of gun do you carry?”

  “A Smith, forty cal. Why?”

  Harris nods, says, “Thank you Captain Laroche. I appreciate your help.”

  “Don’t mention it. Now, tell me why you’re asking.”

  “I wanted to make sure I’m talking to the good guys.”

  Russell wants to ask why Harris is talking to any cop, let alone Briggs. The fact that it is Cody and not just any cop, the fact that Cody’s partner was just killed makes this call more than a little weird.

  “Let me talk to Detective Briggs,” Russell says.

  “Okay, hold on.” Har
ris holds the cell out to Cody. “He wants to talk to you.”

  Cody takes it, almost wishing he had chosen some other way to prove he could be trusted. He waits one extra second before saying, “Briggs here.”

  “What the fuck are you up to?” Russell spits the words out like machine gun fire.

  “Nothing, I’m just talking to someone who knew Nick.”

  “Not your case, Cody. You don’t talk to anyone.”

  “Captain, it’s not what it seems, trust me.”

  The line goes silent. The pause is heavy with expectation but Cody waits it out.

  “Put the doctor back on,” Russell says.

  Cody passes the phone back to Harris.

  “Yes?” Harris says.

  “Doctor Harris, you’re talking to the best of the good guys,” Russell says. “You can trust him completely. If you need anything, call me day or night.”

  “Okay, detective, you win.” Harris says, terminating the call and handing the phone back to Cody. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  Harris lets his eyes wander aimlessly around the top of his desk, trying to find the right place to start.

  “About seven months ago,” he says. “I noticed that some, well just two, of my patient’s husbands had died quite suddenly and in similar fashion.”

  “How do you mean that?”

  “They both died of apparent heart attacks.”

  “Why is that so surprising?”

  “Ordinarily, it wouldn’t be but both of these men were in reasonably good physical condition, no family history of heart problems. The medical examiner couldn’t be sure that heart failure was, in fact, the cause of death, but it was the only thing that made sense.”

  Cody shrugs. “Okay, so what of it? Why’d that get Nick’s attention?”