by KT Roberts
“She’s a nurse, right?”
“Not to my knowledge. Why?”
“A woman in blue scrubs resembling your description passed me in the hallway.”
“I actually don’t know what she was wearing. We found her hospital gown on the empty gurney.”
“Detective,” Linda said, “we don’t know if that was her gown.” She sighed. “Look, while you two are talking, I’m going to call Security. I’ll be right back.” Bradshaw nodded. Linda took off at a fast clip toward the nurse’s station, leaving Bradshaw and Karen standing in the middle of the hallway.
“Karen, when you saw this woman, why wouldn’t you have questioned the way she looked? Black eyes and all?”
She sighed. Her head swayed back and forth. “Detective,” she paused to exhale, “we’ve been bombarded with patients tonight. We’ve had cutbacks like crazy, and . . . I mean, with the bus accident and all . . . it seemed logical to me that the hospital would try to get as many people on the floor as possible to assist. They’ve even called me to come in when I’ve been on vacation, so—”
“So what you’re indicating is you didn’t ask her?” Bradshaw asked.
“No.” She blinked her eyes shut. “We just passed in the hall.”
“What went through your mind when you saw the black eyes?”
“That she’d had a nose job. That’s what I looked like for a while after I had mine.” Her breathing increased in short rapid spurts.
“Did you see anyone walking with her?” Bradshaw asked the aide.
“There was a man walking behind her, but I can’t be sure he was with her. We get a lot of traffic down these halls. It’s hard to keep track of visitors.” She paced. “I can’t believe this,” she said, pure panic in her voice. “It wasn’t that long ago when I saw her.” Her hand slapped against her chest, and she shook her head, exhaling in a steady stream.
If the aide had seen Jane Doe a short time ago, then she couldn’t have gotten too far. Bradshaw’s attention was diverted by Linda’s voice. She was speaking to someone on the phone. Her voice was rushed. “This is Linda Tanners, the administrator in the ER. We’re missing a patient.” Bradshaw watched her facial expression as she spoke into the phone. “No, sir, this is not a joke.” She shook her head while listening to the man and disconnected a short while later. She returned back to where the detective was standing and told him what had been discussed.
“What do you mean there’s no surveillance footage available for the front or rear exits of the hospital?” he asked.
“The captain said they’ve been working on setting up a new system.”
“What? No backup cameras?” Bradshaw’s voice grew louder.
“Oh, I don’t know, Detective. I’m new to this job.”
“But they do have footage from the halls, right?”
“Yes, they do. The captain said he’d notify his guards to do a thorough check of the entire facility. I gave him a detailed description and he suggested we check the footage of the halls first.”
Thoughts raced through Bradshaw’s mind, and a picture of Jane Doe’s assailant returning to finish the job encroached. Things had gone downhill in a matter of minutes. Dread filled him knowing he had to make the inevitable phone call to the two young detectives. The tense ache in the mid-section of his stomach caused him to wince. He pressed his hands against the pain, took in a deep breath, and shuffled his feet across the polished floors. He still couldn’t believe she’d vanished with him a few feet away. “Wait!” he shouted. “The brown bag with her clothing. Where’s the bag? We need that to test her DNA. I need her clothing.”
“Then you’d better get her gown just in case there’s something on it,” Linda nodded in the direction of the gurney.
“Good idea.” Bradshaw turned and noticed an orderly tearing the bed apart and shoving everything into a bin. He ran over to him and flashed his badge. “Wait, I need that gown.”
He watched the orderly rummage through the bin and realized the gown had already come into contact with the other dirty laundry. He sighed and blinked his eyes shut. “Never mind. It’s already contaminated.”
“I’m sorry sir, I’m just doing my job.”
“I know, son.” Bradshaw turned to notice Karen heading toward him at a slow pace, her palms raised and a confused expression on her face.
“Oh God, this whole thing is just too bizarre.” Her body shook.
“Let’s go to security, Detective,” Linda repeated.
“I need to call my precinct first.”
Bradshaw shuffled to a chair in the lounge to call Gerard. He could almost feel his blood pressure rising. The salty fries he’d had earlier made him thirsty. He pulled a cup from the dispenser and filled it with water, took a long swig, then sat down and dialed Gerard’s number. Relief washed through him when he heard Gerard’s voice mail. He left a message thankful it gave him time to regroup before speaking to the Detective.
“Have the Stuarts arrived from this morning’s crime scene?” Jessie asked stopping in front of the desk sergeant.
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “The woman is in Interview Room three. The man is behind door number two.”
Zach came up beside her and leaned over the high desk. “Did that beautiful woman make your day, Sarge?” he whispered.
The balding, middle-aged sergeant nodded. “You bet, Detective.”
Jessie shook her head at the two men. “I think you should take Mrs. Stuart, Gerard.”
“No. I really think you should take her.”
“Nope. You said you’re the expert when it comes to women, so here’s your chance, hotshot. Just throw some of that masculine charm on her, and she’ll be eating out of your hand.” She turned on her heels. “Toodles,” she waved her hand in the air and scooted down the hall.
“Detectives, please don’t fight over who should take the woman. I’d be happy to take her off your hands,” the desk sergeant chimed in.
Zach snorted. “No, Sarge, I think I can handle it.” Zach watched the sway of Jessie’s hips as she swaggered down the hall, her long red curls swinging in step with her movement. He liked watching her but forced himself back to reality to focus on the job at hand. “When do you want to notify Lenny’s daughter?” he called after her.
“Right now.”
“But I thought we were interviewing the Stuarts?”
“You can get started. I’ll start my interview after I make this call.”
His face formed into a frown. “You’re calling Lenny’s daughter instead of going to the house?”
“No, bozo,” she sighed, “his daughter lives in Ohio. I’m calling the OPD to ask them to inform her.”
“Oh, well see, I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, well, that’s probably because . . . oh, never mind.”
“Okay, carry on,” he said with a wink.
“Gee, thanks, hotshot,” she saluted. “Now, do you mind if I get to work?”
“Not at all.” He sighed and entered the interview room.
Mrs. Stuart, a woman in her early thirties sat drumming her manicured fingernails on the surface of the table. She looked very different without the blanket wrapped around her. She was dressed in tight-fitting jeans and a short T-shirt, exposing the creamy color of her midriff. Her long dark hair was pulled back with a large barrette on the nape of her neck.
“Mrs. Stuart, thank you for coming down to the station house.”
“You’re welcome, detective,” she flirted. “I’m always happy to help—especially the good-looking ones.”
He sidetracked her comment. “Now before we get started, I’m going to read you your rights, then I’m going to record our conversation.”
She jerked her head in surprise. “Whatever for?”
“For our mutual protection.”
“Am I under arrest, Detective?” she fluttered her eyelashes at him.
“No ma’am. It’s for everyone’s protection. This way, you know what you said, and I know what you sa
id. It’s all on tape.”
“If you must.”
“Okay, let’s get started. Tell me about your evening—everything that lead up to the moment of contact with the dead body.”
She giggled like a teenager. “You want to know every little detail?”
“Every.” Zach did all he could to contain himself from laughing out loud. She was pretty, but certainly not a beauty queen. He wondered if Mr. Stuart realized his wife tried to come on to other men. Grateful the interview was being recorded, and viewed by Harwell, he wasn’t the least bit worried she’d file sexual harassment charges against him when he ignored her advances.
Jessie entered Interview Room number two, and found Mr. Stuart pacing back and forth. He was a good-looking man with a full head of white hair, and quite a bit older than his wife. He was dressed in a silk business suit.
“Thanks for coming down, sir. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time.
“That’s good, Detective Kensington, because I have a flight to catch later this afternoon.”
“Oh, sir, I’m not so sure you’ll be on that flight. We may need to question you again.”
John Stuart released a loud groan. “I have to be on that flight.” His face tensed, a muscle flickered on the side of his jaw.
“Let’s get down to business and see where we are when we finish.” She watched his body language with interest. It was no secret he was the type of man who needed to feel as though he was the one in control. She spoke softly and smiled. “Mr. Stuart, please give me a detailed account of your evening last night.”
He grinned. “Catherine and I finished dinner about ten thirty, then headed back to our hotel room for the night. We watched a movie on cable, then Catherine and I decided to partake in a little more excitement, so we—”
Jessie interrupted. “You can take it from the time you fell over the body. I don’t need to know why or how you decided to go to Central Park. One thing though before we go any further, the home address you gave me earlier is a local one. Is that correct?” she asked, slightly confused about why they were at a hotel. She opened the file on the table to view her notes to verify the information given. An uneasy feeling erupted in her stomach. Was she the only woman in the world who hadn’t considered a rendezvous?
John Stuart shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, detective, can I count on your discretion?”
“Well, that depends.”
John Stuart’s blue eyes never left Jessie’s face.
“Okay, let’s hear it.” His expression gave him away. “You’re having an affair, and she’s not your wife.”
He nodded in the affirmative.
“Swell.” She shook her head. “Do either of you live here in New York?”
“Yes, we both do.”
“Can you give me her last name?”
“You have the correct name for her. It’s Catherine Stuart.” He gave her a sheepish grin.
“And, she’s spelling it the same as yours? S-t-u-a-r-t?”
“Yes. Catherine is my sister-in-law,” he answered without an ounce of remorse. “She’s married to my brother.”
Jessie swallowed hard and forced herself not to react. She felt sick to her stomach, and could only imagine how she would have felt if it had been a relative of hers. “Okay, then give me a run-down of the chain of events.”
“Well, we decided to have some emotionally charged sex, and figured Central Park would be a fun place . . . and had we . . . well, you know.”
“So, you arrived there at what time?”
“I’d say it was about two o’clock in the morning, or maybe two-thirty.”
“At what time did you discover the bodies?”
“You mean body. We never saw the other one . . . the woman who was alive . . . not until later when Catherine heard a loud painful moan shortly after the officer arrived. As for time, I’m not really sure, detective. We were so involved.” He released nervous laughter.
“Yeah, right. Okay, so why did you leave your clothes at the hotel?”
“I told you before. Because it was an emotional high to drive over there, to see Catherine—”
“Naked?” She finished the sentence for him. She scratched her head. “That blanket couldn’t have been large enough to be wrapped around the both of you while you were driving?”
“That was the whole point, Detective.” He grinned. “You’ve never done anything naughty, have you?”
Jessie cleared her throat. “I’m the one asking the questions here, Mr. Stuart.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Stuart,” she said. “I need to check with the lab,” she said, rushing out of the room before she smacked him silly. He was a smug bastard, and she loathed his type. Screw trying to make him think he was in control. Outside, she keyed in the lab’s number on her cell phone. “Do you have any results for me on that blanket? She looked through the window of the door and watched him pace back and forth. “Yeah, okay. Will you have someone call me the minute those results are in?” She returned to the room. Mr. Stuart was pacing a lot faster than before. She pointed to the chair. “Please sit, sir.”
“Detective, you can’t honestly believe we killed those people.”
“I never said that, sir. Anyone at a crime scene is an automatic suspect, regardless of whether you’re the witness or otherwise, until proven innocent. Now if you’ll allow me to rule you and your lady out, you can be on your way.”
“Oh, that’s just great,” he griped. “If the media gets a hold of this, we’ll be in the newspapers.” He stood and began pacing again. “My wife is going to kill me if she finds out.” Jessie stared at him and prayed his brother would find out. It would serve him right.
“Please sit down, Mr. Stuart. We’ll be finished in a little while.”
“Well, what exactly are you looking for?”
“Do you own a pistol, sir?”
“No. Of course not,” he shot back. “I’m a civilized member of my community, and I have great respect for law enforcement.”
Jessie chuckled to herself and wondered if “civilized” included cheating on one’s spouse. A rap on the door interrupted her thoughts. One of the technicians from the lab handed her the results. She nodded a thank you, viewed the paper, and read it aloud. “The results show semen, gun residue and the victim’s blood on the blanket.”
Mr. Stuart released a heavy sigh of frustration.
Detective Kensington reached down into her case and removed a light. “Please hold out your hands.”
“You can’t be serious,” his voice filled with irritation. “I’ve seen enough CSI episodes to know what you’re thinking. This is absolutely absurd.”
“Sir, did you shower when the officer drove you back to your hotel?”
“Are you kidding? He barely gave us enough time to get dressed.”
“Okay, then hold out your hands please.” She flashed the light over his hands. “Okay, they’re clean.”
“Of course they are, Detective.”
“Mr. Stuart,” she said, “I told you, once you’re eliminated as a suspect, you can leave and get back to your life. The more you protest, the longer you’re going to be here.”
He twisted his mouth into a sour grin without commenting, then sat down in the chair and crossed his arms against his chest.
“Please excuse me for a moment, Mr. Stuart. I need to confer with my partner.” She walked down the hall to Zach’s room and knocked on the door, then walked inside. “Can I see you for a moment, Gerard?”
“Sure.” He followed her into the hallway.
“What’s up?”
“The blanket only shows Lenny’s blood. No residue was found on his hands. I think their alibi checks out, so we can release these scum bags.”
“I agree. They don’t really know anything except when they landed on the body. It appears they arrived after the fact.”
“By the way,” she snorted, “did she tell you she’s Stuart’s sister-in-law?”
“No,” his eyebrows rose. “You’re kidding me.”
“No. I’m not. At first I thought you might be right about them having a brash adventure to freshen their marriage, and I even warmed up to the idea, but when he revealed the truth, I wanted to puke. How’s that for brotherly love?”
“Pretty pathetic, if you ask me. Okay, let’s get these two out of here. She’s been coming onto me for the last half hour.”
“I thought you enjoyed that?” Jessie quipped.
“It depends on who it is.” He headed back inside the interview room. “Hey,” he called after her. “I’m happy to hear you warmed up to the idea.” His wink gave her a tingle.
When Jessie returned to John Stuart, he was now sitting, his crossed leg bouncing in a perfunctory motion.
“Okay, Mr. Stuart. We’re releasing you and Mrs. Stuart.” He stood upright. “Make sure you’re available in case we need to get in touch with you again.” she said.
“How will you get in touch with us?” he asked.
“We’ll call your office or the cell number you provided.”
They exited the room together and walked toward the lobby to wait for Catherine to join him. A few minutes later, he and Catherine left the building holding hands.
“So much for frolicking in the woods, huh, Gerard?” Jessie said.
“Uh-huh.” He shook his head in disgust. “So how’d you make out with OPD?”
“Good. They’ll bring the local priest when they visit the residence.” Jessie rushed past him toward her desk.
“Boy, you’re still pissed off at the Stuarts.”
“You bet your sweet ass I am. Neither one is fit to call themselves human beings.”
Zach smiled, eased himself down in his desk chair and listened to his telephone messages. His hand slammed down on the desk. “For chrissake, Jane Doe is missing.”
8
Detective Gerard parked the car in the hospital parking lot and exited at the same time as Jessie. Both rushed over to Detective Bradshaw who stood and waited by the door of the ER at Lenox Hill Hospital. Bradshaw’s expression was grim.
“What the hell happened here, Bradshaw?” Zach demanded without so much as an acknowledgement. “Where did she go? Did anyone see her leave?”