by Alec Peche
They soon moved on to a discussion of the upcoming NFL draft. The Packers had made it to the playoffs the previous winter but they hadn’t gone deep into the post season. Jo and Angela had the best football minds and it was good to listen to what holes they thought the Green Bay Packers should plug through the draft. The Packers were primarily a drafting team. They did not like to spend big dollars on free agents. In the end they agreed that they wanted the defense bulked up as well as one or two players on the offensive line so the quarterback was better protected.
Several beers and snacks later, they were ready to return and re-focus on the murder. The only thing that had Jill feeling slightly better about this investigation was it seemed the cops were as stuck as their team was in figuring out who was the killer. This was all the more amazing because they had the killer on video.
Chapter Eleven
Looking out the window, they watched an ambulance roll by the bar. Our Lady of Guadalupe was one of four hospitals in town. This ambulance would be stopping at a different hospital located closer to the bar as Our Lady was across town. The ambulance was speeding with sirens loud and light flashing. Jill hoped that whoever was inside made it alive to the hospital. The ambulance had a squad car leading it. Jill reasoned it was just trying to clear the way for the ambulance and not because there was a victim or suspect inside the ambulance. They paid their bill and were getting ready to return home, when they saw two more squad cars head up the road in the direction from which the ambulance had come.
“Hmmm, I wonder what is going on up the road. It is unusual to see an ambulance running toward the hospital and squad cars heading in the other direction. We could head that way on our way home; go be lookieloos at an accident or crime scene,” suggested Jill.
“Haven’t you had enough gross crime scenes with the brain matter on the green yesterday?” asked Marie. “Oh wait, I forgot - you were with the crime lab, Jill. No wonder you want to go see - you’re like a tow truck that can’t pass a car accident.”
“Hey, you can take the girl out of the crime lab but you can’t take the crime scene investigator out of the girl. Let’s go be spectators and maybe it will jiggle loose another lead for our current case.”
The group of friends just smiled with tolerance at their friend’s desire to view a crime scene, so they piled in the car to see if they could locate where the police cars had gone. At first there was no sight of them anywhere and Jill was about to suggest they just return to Marie’s house. It had been a pleasant diversion, but now it was time to go back, and then they saw the squad cars. Then Angela noticed the two detectives from Doug’s case.
“That’s strange,” Jill commented. “You would think that the two detectives would be working full time on just Doug’s murder. That is unless there has been another murder, but there shouldn’t be another murder in this town for another twelve months. We saw an ambulance roll by us but maybe there is another victim here.”
Angela, eyeing the two detectives commented, “I think they said they did major crimes so maybe there is an assault here or a burglary.”
Just then Detective Haro caught their eye and he turned and said something to Detective Van Bruggin.
“Rats! We’ve been caught acting like lookieloos,” said Jill as she sunk lower in the seat and motioned Angela to just drive on by. Then the detective waved them over so they pulled to the curb and lowered the windows.
“What are you ladies doing at this crime scene?” queried Detective Haro as he gave them the squint eye.
“We were down the street at the Pearly Gates when we saw an ambulance head toward the hospital and police cars head this way so we thought we would drive by this scene on the way back to Marie’s house." Jill knew she was rambling but it was the first time she had ever been caught doing something so juvenile as stopping at a random crime scene. “What happened at this location?” Jill had already stepped into a cow pie, so she may as well smash it as long as she was standing on it.
“The detective and I wondered what you were doing here. Your explanation makes sense as I suppose I would have a hard time avoiding a crime scene in another jurisdiction. Actually though, if you have time we could use your help inside.” Eyeing the other women in the car he added, “Just you Dr. Quint. We’ll get you a ride home when you’re done here.”
Jill shrugged at the detective request and said “Sure I’ll help. Guys, I’ll meet you back at Marie’s house,” and she got out of the car to follow the detective..
Jill started to walk toward the house with the detective and predicted “You must have a forensic pathologist’s question, do you have booties and gloves I can change into?”
“Yes, just outside the door here,” replied the detective, motioning to a corner of the front porch.
After putting protective gear on so she wouldn’t contaminate the scene, she said to the detective, “Tell me what happened here.”
“We were called to the scene by the victim’s employer when she failed to show for work this morning. Normally, you would wait twenty-four hours to file a missing person’s report, but her supervisor was most insistent and said that we may as well send a patrol unit over to the house and if he had to he was going to break-in to check on his employee and so we reluctantly dispatched an officer. He had been her supervisor for twenty years and she had never failed to show up for work as scheduled so he was convinced that something was wrong. The supervisor arrived a few minutes before the squad car did and he had just broken into her house. He found her unconscious with a faint heartbeat on the living room floor. He called 911 and started doing mouth to mouth. Our officer ran out to the patrol car to get a tank and mask and kept her alive until paramedics arrived to take her to the hospital.”
“So far, other than the broken window, I’m not sensing a crime was committed here. Rather if only we could all have such a conscientious supervisor.”
“At first, those were our thoughts as well. We took a second look at her just before she was loaded into the ambulance. Her skin had pinked up a bit with the extra oxygen. It appeared that she had ligature marks on her wrists and a bruise inside her elbow where someone took blood or injected her. She has not regained consciousness yet. We have sent our crime scene tech to the hospital to get blood and evidence from her. Her employer is Our Lady of Guadalupe hospital by the way.”
With that last sentence, Jill’s head whipped around to look at the detective, “That hospital is becoming an extremely dangerous place to work.”
“Exactly our thoughts and since you happened to be driving by, we figured your expert eyes might see something here. We haven’t called our own coroner to the scene as there isn’t a death yet.”
“Do you have pictures of the victim?”
He did and held out his cell phone for her to view. She looked at the pictures and zoomed in to get a closer look at the ligature and elbow bruise.
“I would suggest your crime scene tech swab the skin injection site and request the hospital run toxicology tests. Did she ever wake up? Was she completely limp? Was she lying as though she had fallen? Any other injuries? Is the supervisor here to ask questions of?”
“Yes the supervisor is here. Which toxicology tests?”
“I would run tests for prescription drugs that depress the respiratory system like Valium, Propofol, and alcohol. This doesn’t look like a drug overdose, but rather very suspicious circumstances because of the ligature marks. For all of the weird and kinky overdoses I have seen over the years, none included a ritual where hands were tied together then later untied as the person started to get drowsy. I would like to speak with the supervisor after I ask you a few more questions.”
“We have him in the kitchen so as to keep his explanation untarnished by our conversation.”
“Can you describe where you found her on the floor in this room? Did she appear to be wearing pajamas or street clothes? Does anyone else live in this house?”
"She appeared to be wearing street clothes like she had
dressed for work and he said he found her with her head there,” said the detective point toward a coffee table, “and her feet there,” moving his hand back and forth suggesting how she was stretched out on the carpet.
“No blood, or vomit or anything lying near her body. Her purse was sitting on that sofa like she was ready to go to work and there is cash in the wallet so this wasn’t a robbery. All the doors were locked. No TV or anything on. No pets here and no one else in the house. The supervisor says she lives alone with her grown children occasionally visiting her and staying here, but they live several hours away. They have been notified as next of kin and are on their way here.”
“Okay let’s go speak with the supervisor. Why don’t you introduce me as Dr. Quint, a consultant that your department occasionally uses.”
“That’s not far off the mark at this point,” he said as they walked into the kitchen.
“Mr. Swanson, hi I’m Detective Van Bruggin, this is Detective Haro, and this is Dr. Quint who is a private consultant. I know we introduced ourselves earlier, but in the chaos I wasn’t sure you would remember.”
“Hello detectives and Dr. Quint. Do you have any word on Helen? Is she doing better now that she is at the hospital? I knew something was wrong when she didn’t show up to work. She has never done that in over twenty years. I am glad that I came over here and smashed the window to get into her house,” John Swanson knew he was rambling on, but he couldn’t help it - he was deeply worried about Helen.
“We have no news from the hospital other than she has not recovered consciousness yet for us to interview,” replied Detective Haro. “Can you take us through what happened today? Start when you first noticed that Helen did not arrive at work.”
"Helen and I have worked together for nearly twenty years. In all that time she has never been late and maybe she had to call in sick to work perhaps once or twice during that time. Her shift was supposed to start at ten. I was out of my office, but returned perhaps at eleven and she wasn’t there. I spent the next two hours calling her home phone, calling her cell phone, and even calling one of her kids that is listed as an emergency contact. I was trying not to alarm them, but I just knew something was wrong.”
“Helen is lucky to have you as both a supervisor and a friend,” murmured Haro. “You knew her well enough to sense when she was in trouble.”
“I am sorry sir but that was what I told the dispatcher that they may as well send you guys as I would be breaking into her house. I knew she couldn’t wait twenty-four hours for me to file the missing persons report, and it turns out I was right. So I got to this house and I could see no movement in the rooms that had the curtains open. I tried all the doors and windows, but none of them were unlocked. So I decided the best window to break was the side glass panel by the front door. It would allow me to reach inside and unlock the front door. I thought it would also be the cheapest to repair and so I broke the window pane closes to the doorknob.”
Jill thought the guy was very logical and precise. He made a good witness and friend to Helen.
“Once I opened the front door I called out for Helen as I moved from room to room. I quickly found her on the living room floor. I called 911 for an ambulance, felt for a pulse, then started doing respirations since she looked a little blue and her chest didn’t seem to be moving much. An officer appeared perhaps a minute after I started giving her mouth to mouth, then went to his car for oxygen and a mask. He stayed with me, using the mask to get air into her and a few minutes later the paramedics arrived. They took over, quickly got her on a stretcher and drove off to the hospital. I think the officer followed the ambulance and then you two detectives arrived I think about the same time as the ambulance departed.”
“Mr. Swanson, can you tell me how Helen was lying on the carpet?” asked Jill. “Did her position look natural to you?”
“What do you mean natural?”
“Were her legs or arms at any odd angles? Or did she look like she might have fainted and dropped to that position on the ground?”
“She looked like she had laid down on the carpet to take a nap. She was curled on her side. I hesitated, calling out her name when I first saw her because I thought I might be interrupting her sleep.”
Jill continued with her questions, “What made you run to her if she looked like she was sleeping?”
“It was her lack of movement and the quietness of the house. I am the father of five children and no one sleeps that quietly or with so little motion.”
“Was she curled tight and was she curled on her right or left side? Do you remember the position of her lower arms?” asked Jill.
“She wasn’t curled tight, but she had her weight on her left hip. It wasn’t that she was lying on her back looking to the side rather her hips were turned to the side. And her arms, let me think about that… umm they were folded in front of her almost in a prayer,” and he imitated the arm position.
“Can you remember anything about her clothing? Was any of it out of place, do you remember if she was wearing work clothes?” asked Haro.
“She was definitely in her work clothes. The sweater she had on was a gift from her co-workers and I remember her opening the gift at a birthday party. So it looked to me as though she was nearly ready to go to work and then for some reason she fell asleep on the carpet. But it wasn’t sleep because her color wasn’t very good and I couldn’t wake her up so she must have had a medical emergency.”
Jill couldn’t resist asking the one question that no one wanted to ask of Mr. Swanson, “What was her state of mind recently? Was she depressed or worried about anything? Had she ever mentioned that she was having problems?”
“No she was not suicidal if that is what you’re asking. She was a very content and happy person, proud of her children, hoping for some grandchildren soon.“
Van Bruggin finally asked a question, “What did Helen do at Our Lady? You said you’re her supervisor; what was her role and what is your role at the hospital?”
“Helen is our Director of Quality and I’m a Vice President at the hospital. As Director of Quality she handles a variety of services like Accreditation, Regulations, Risk Analysis, Patient Satisfaction, and Quality Improvement.”
Jill had her last question, “Is Helen a nurse by training?”
“Yes, she is a registered nurse.”
Jill looked at the detectives and nodded that she had asked all of her questions. She soon heard Haro and Van Bruggin usher Mr. Swanson out checking to see if he was safe to drive and making sure they had all of his contact information and admonishing him to not talk with anyone.
Haro re-entered the kitchen and said, “That was probably a waste of air - asking him to keep his mouth shut. So what do you think? Is this an attempted murder or a botched suicide?”
Van Bruggin responded, “I don’t like the coincidence of our murder victim also working at Our Lady. One murder and one attempted murder among one group of employees within a week is a very longshot in this town.”
“Three.”
Detectives Haro and Van Bruggin looked at Jill puzzled by her word ‘three’, Jill could almost read their minds as they were asking themselves if they had heard ‘free’ or another word.
Jill repeated herself, “three murders or really two murders and so far one attempted murder.”
Both detectives turned to stare at her, questioning looks on their faces.
“My team did some research on the hospital specifically looking at the leadership roles that Dr. Doug Easley occupied. What you are probably not aware of is that he was the interim chair of the Department of Surgery.” Jill paused then added, “I can see the skeptical looks on your faces wondering where I am going with that remark.”
Both detectives hated being so easy to read.
“So the reason he is the interim chair is because the previous chair died in a snowmobile accident six months ago. He was on a vacation with another physician from Our Lady who stated that Dr. Phillips had a heart attack whil
e snowmobiling. As the event was witnessed by a physician there was no reason to do an autopsy. The Chair was in his forties with no family or personal history of heart disease. I would like to exhume his body and do an autopsy. He is buried at Resurrection Cemetery, so it’s possible,” Jill’s far-fetched lead was getting stronger by the moment.
“There are a lot of things to say about your statement, Dr. Quint, and I’ll start in no particular order of importance,” begin Detective Van Bruggin attempting with all speed to match Jill’s understanding of the potential scope of victims in this case. “I have never requested a body be exhumed for examination and I’ll have to refresh myself with the regulations. You’re not licensed in this State so you can’t do the examination and I would guess we would want to send the body to the forensic lab in Madison. Since I have never tried to exhume a body, I don’t know what kind of justification we need but I bet that what we have now is insufficient.”
“Detective, I don’t know your rules in the State of Wisconsin either. There are two routes we can follow. The one is to put evidence before a judge and order an exhumation. I agree with you that no matter the standard in Wisconsin, we likely lack the evidence to meet that standard. The second route would be to approach his widow and gain her permission for the exhumation. Again you could send the body to Madison, or I could assist your local coroner in the gathering of evidence. As you said I can’t sign any legal documents, but I could advise your coroner of what signs to look for and tests to run.”
“Can you definitively determine the cause of death in a body that has been buried for six months and is filled with embalming solution?” asked Haro, his voice full of skepticism.
“You would be amazed at the forensic evidence in a body. Just last year a Chilean poet’s body was exhumed thirty years after his death. He is a famous poet and he won the Nobel Prize in Literature. His family claimed he was murdered by poison from an assassin. His bones underwent toxicology testing and it was determined that the only chemicals in his system were the chemotherapy agents used to treat his prostate cancer.”