by Judith Lucci
Alex, incapacitated and paralyzed at the sight of the elderly lady, clutched futilely at the air for support. Emotions were clouding her objectivity. These emotions turned into distress and shock as she continued to look around the room.
Mrs. Smithson no longer had a face. Her eyes had been completely gouged out by the knitting needle. Alex couldn't even tell if they were open or closed. Her nose was a torn piece of flesh that was barely connected to her face. There were numerous stab and puncture wounds all over her head. Her ears had been desecrated in the attack. Most of her beautiful silver hair was matted with blood. The knitting needle protruded ominously from her mouth. Alex felt her knees buckle and Jack caught her. With effortless ease, he held her up until she felt strong enough to support herself. Alex barely noticed when Nadine left the room.
Alex gasped. "I can't believe this. This is terrible -- horrible. What kind of a despicable, loathsome animal could mutilate a little old lady like this? My Lord, Jack! This is … there are no words to describe this."
Jack stood silently next to Alex and nodded in agreement, his arm around her shoulders for support. He nodded his head silently, tears in his eyes.
Nadine returned to the room and continued to view the body objectively. She had said nothing since reentering the room.
Alex was impressed by her dispassionate inspection of the body or, at least, she thought she was.
Jack said quietly, "I don't know, Alex. It's bad. The perp is … an animal. No human could create such brutal devastation."
Alex rose from the chair and walked back to the bed. She studied the body of Mrs. Smithson and noticed that the elderly lady's hospital gown was pulled up to her chest. Her small, frail hips were completely exposed. With tears in her eyes, she asked the Commander, "Can we cover her up, Jack?"
Jack hesitated for a moment, unwilling to disturb the crime scene, and then wavered. "Yes, I'll cover her up. She deserves that much dignity. Okay with you, Nadine?"
"Yeah, Jack. Trust me, I've seen enough. We've got pictures, right?” Nadine's voice was terse and despondent.
"Yeah, got plenty of them."
As Alex and Jack moved towards the bed, Alex saw that the patient’s call bell on Mrs. Smithson's right side was covered in blood. It was clear to Alex that Mrs. Smithson had rung the call bell repeatedly for help. Her trained eyes immediately traveled the length of the electric cord to the wall outlet, where the bell was connected to electrical power. The bell cord had been pulled out of the wall. The alarm had long ceased ringing – perhaps even hours before the patient had died. Whoever did this was smart enough to disconnect the bell from the wall. But, who? A patient? A staff member? Someone with knowledge of hospital equipment had killed Mrs. Santa Claus. Alex just knew it.
"Jack," Alex said breathlessly at the upsetting discovery. "Did you notice that the call bell had been disconnected from the wall? This call system is antique and it won't ring if it has been disconnected from the wall. So, even if someone had been close to the nursing station, the bell would not have rung in there. It has been disconnected from the operating call system in the patient's room!"
Jack shook his head. “No, I hadn't noticed. There were so many folks in here earlier I didn't notice. I am sure the CSI team picked it up. Shit! Unbelievable. This murdering SOB knew what he was doing!" Jack's face had taken on a fierce look. His normally cautious eyes were dark and brooding and as hard as black coal. He trembled with anger and outrage at the pain and fear Mrs. Smithson must have endured.
Alex and Nadine watched quietly as Jack put the scene together.
"This bastard knows hospitals. This maniac restrained the poor lady in four-point leather restraints and disconnected her call bell. He knew his way around this unit!” Jack's face was flushed with anger. His eyes had turned into burning sockets in his head. He thought his head was about to explode.
Nadine continued to quietly examine the body. "Look here, Commander. Check this out." Nadine was pointing to an area on Mrs. Smithson's fragile right shoulder.
Jack crossed over to Nadine's side of the bed. He looked at the mark. Their eyes met with recognition. "Nadine, these look like puncture wounds on her neck. What do you think?
"What is it? What is it," Alex implored as she tried to see around the two police officers.
Nadine looked at Alex coldly. "It's a bite mark, Alex. Our killer here is the same man who attacked, raped, and beat Angela. He's probably already selected his next victim."
This was more than Alex could handle. Her face immediately crumpled. She left the room and the locked unit and walked briskly back to her office on the main hospital campus not even noticing the heat of the day. She was still cold with fright. Sticky from the New Orleans heat, but cold on the inside. Alex shuddered as she passed the yellow-tagged crime scene where Angela was assaulted.
She nodded briefly to Mona on the way in and then closed and locked her door. Then Alex cried and cried. She cried for the violent acts committed against two completely vulnerable and undeserving women. She sobbed until no more tears would flow. She vowed to herself that she would make every effort and use every opportunity within her power to make Crescent City Medical Center a safer place for patients and staff. She also decided that she would no longer compromise her own personal value system for the good of the hospital, no matter what or who got in her way. She would work based on her own values and ethical beliefs. The hell with Don! For a short while, Alex sat at her desk, oblivious to the world around her. She began to wonder if she was losing her own mind.
Chapter 20
Shortly before noon, Mona softly knocked on Alex's office door. Mona knew that Alex was upset and hated to disturb her, but she felt she needed to check on her. So far, she had been successful in holding off the hordes of people searching for the hospital attorney this morning and she had managed to successfully stall and reschedule most of her meetings. Still -- Mona hated to bother her. Alex had been so distressed when she returned from the Pavilion a little while ago. Mona had heard her crying in her office.
There was no answer to her knock. Mona hesitated, thinking before she knocked again. If she hadn't received the phone call from Donald Montgomery, she wouldn't bother Alex. But, as usual, Montgomery had acted like such an ass on the phone she knew she had to notify Alex. Hesitantly, she knocked again on Alex's door.
"Come in. Door’s open," Alex said, her voice faint and hard to hear.
Mona opened the door slowly and stood in the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt you, Alex, but Montgomery has called an emergency meeting of the hospital executive committee about the attacks. Leticia called about an hour ago." Mona sounded apologetic for interrupting.
Alex picked up on Mona's hesitation. "Thanks, Mona. It's okay. Thanks for letting me know. I'm okay now, but I did lose it this morning. When's the meeting?"
Alex spoke in a flat voice and she looked whipped. She didn't sound or look better to Mona. Mona examined her critically. "It's at 2 o'clock this afternoon in the executive conference room. Leticia said something about a press release and some other matters that will be discussed. You sure you're okay, Alex? You're looking mighty beat up!"
Alex smiled at Mona's typically Mississippi description of her. "I'll be okay. I just look terrible because most of my makeup has worn off. I cried it off. I'll put it back on before the meeting. Thanks, Mona." Alex hesitated for a moment and added, "I appreciate your concern. Thanks for letting me cry and giving me the time to do it. I know you rescheduled all of my meetings."
Mona nodded and left the office. As Mona returned to her desk, she thought about Alex. Alex had been up practically all night, had been through hell, and was going back for more this afternoon. Mona silently agreed with Bridgett, who adored Alex. They had discussed how amazing Alex was and how great a role model she was for women. Bridgett had confided to Mona that she thought Alex was insecure with men and had also whispered that she didn't think Alex had ever gotten over her marriage to Dr. Bonnet. Besides, it had only been six mo
nths since her relationship with Mitch Landry had ended so tragically. Poor Alex, thought Mona. She has so much, but she also has so little. As she returned to her computer, Mona was infinitely grateful for her husband, her two small children, and her little house in Kenner. She was thankful for being able to work part-time and was totally glad she wasn't the high-powered Alexandra Destephano. Regardless of how beautiful she was or how much money she made or how much respect she garnered, Alex’s life was hell.
Chapter 21
Alex checked her watch. It was half past noon. Time to meet Monique and Jack for lunch in the cafeteria. She sighed. She was exhausted and felt as if she were 100 years old. Every iota of energy had been drained from her. She walked into her private bathroom to redo her makeup and was shocked at her appearance in the mirror. Mona had been right -- she looked bad, really awful. She looked like hell. No question. For the first time, she noticed small dry lines and wrinkles in the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. Her flawless fair skin was pasty white and her normally lustrous auburn hair looked dull and lifeless.
I'm really a mess! I look terrible, and I feel like hell! As she repaired the damage to the best of her ability, she made a pact with herself to take some extra vitamins and get more exercise. She needed to get more rest as well. That would help. Finally, she was reasonably pleased with her appearance and headed towards the cafeteria when her thoughts were interrupted with what she was sure was a telepathic message from her grandmother, Grand. Kathryn Lee had always told her to look her best when she was on her way to slay her dragons and Montgomery and Whitset were certainly the dragons du jour. Bastard dragons, actually.
Alex smiled when she thought about Grand. She made a mental note to call her tonight. She missed her grandparents and she missed Virginia. She was beginning to hate New Orleans. Her mind flickered to the job offer on her desk. Maybe, just maybe, she ought to consider it. It would take her home to Virginia. Besides, her grandparents were getting older and, even though the Congressman hadn't slowed down a bit, Alex had noticed some fatigue and weariness in her grandmother that she had never seen before and it bothered her. Just thinking about her home in Virginia and her grandparents lifted her spirits and gave her the energy she needed to move forward. God bless them, she thought.
Alex steeled herself for the rest of her day and admitted that it totally sucked, as she walked towards the hospital cafeteria. As she contemplated her afternoon, she frowned. She wasn't looking forward to meeting with the Smithsons, especially with Whitset present, and she knew the executive meeting she was headed to was going to be a battle or, more likely, a sham.
She waved at Monique waiting for her outside the hospital cafeteria.
Monique grabbed Alex by her arm. "Let's get out of here, Alex," Monique hissed. "Whitset is waiting for you in there. I told him you'd left the hospital for lunch and that you would meet him at about 1:30 on the unit to talk with the Smithsons. I figured you didn't want to eat with him."
Alex's blue eyes were sharp and her voice was brittle. "You figured right. Only, I want to meet him somewhere else. I’ll call Mona and tell her to have Whitset and the Smithsons meet me in my office conference room at 1:30. I don't want them witnessing anything unpleasant in the Pavilion and thinking again that their mother should not have been admitted there."
"Good idea, Alex. The fire is going to be hot enough anyway. No sense adding more fuel."
Alex nodded in agreement. "Let's run over to the Cajun Café. I'll call Mona from there. Is Jack coming?"
"Nope. He's downtown running checks on Anthony and our boy Whitset." Monique smiled grimly at Alex. "Jack also says he has to meet with the medical examiner this afternoon.”
"Why? Anything special happen?" Alex looked speculatively at the psychiatrist.
"No, not that I know of. I think he just wants to drop off some pictures of Angie so the medical examiner can compare them with Mrs. Smithson. You know Jack. He's pretty involved in this. Actually, he’s so emotionally involved it bothers me."
Alex looked critically at Monique. She took a risk and said plainly, "Yeah, I know. Let it go, Monique. We're all involved and Jack's M.O. for years has been to become personally involved in his cases. That's the type of cop he is and that's why he's where he is. Police officers like Jack François are few and far between."
A faint blush was perceptible on Monique's pale cheeks. Alex knew she was trying to control her anger. She spoke again, her voice matter of fact. "Monique, I'm not trying to offer advice or cause trouble, but Jack is Jack, and that's how he operates. It's just part of him that you'll have to get used to or not …."
Monique interrupted her, her voice cool. "All right, Alex. I've got it. Let's table this for now. I'm too tired for another emotional shakedown. So are you. I know you're right and I know I can't change him. It would've been easier if his first case with us as a couple hadn't occurred on my medical unit."
Alex laughed at her friend. "Yep, for sure, it certainly would've been -- but sometimes life's a shit sandwich and we all have to take a few bites!"
Monique laughed at Alex's description, which she knew came straight from the mouth of Congressman Adam Patrick Lee. Alex seldom used profanity and, when she did, it was for emphasis. By this time they were in front of the restaurant. "My, my, my, where are your genteel Virginia manners and where did you learn to speak like that?"
"You know exactly where that came from because you've been there!" Alex eyed the door thankfully. "Good, no wait. We can go straight in. And, the manners, I left them at home -- better watch me at the table. Order me the special and I'll call Mona."
The Cajun Café was a small coffee shop inside the CCMC complex. It was usually filled with patients, staff, and family members for lunch, but for some reason the lunch traffic was light today. The food was authentic Cajun cuisine and the chef took great pride in his menu. The café was gaily decorated with a Cajun bayou motif and watercolors of New Orleans street scenes painted by a local artist. Monique slid into the back booth at the rear of the restaurant, while Alex fished in her purse for her phone. By the time Alex finished her call, Monique had ordered iced tea and crawfish étouffée for both of them. Pierre, the owner and chef of the Cajun Café, was arguing good-naturedly with Dr. Desmonde over the proper Cajun spices for étouffée.
When Chef Pierre saw Alex, he bowed gallantly from the waist and said with a big smile on his face, "Miss Alex. I'm honored. Please enjoy your meal. I'll send a special chocolate dessert your way. You know, I know your favorite."
Alex smiled her thanks and she, Monique, and Pierre chatted for a few minutes before the chef left the women alone to enjoy their lunch.
The service was quick and within several minutes, they were eating the rich, delicious étouffée. Alex asked how things were going at the Pavilion.
Monique looked at her sideways. "Well, pretty well, I guess. That should be obvious since I was able to get over here for lunch. Most of the patients are still heavily medicated. Several others are depressed ... that is, more depressed than usual. Overall, there's still a feeling of shock up there. Things could break bad tonight or tomorrow when the patients rally and start to talk about things -- you know, when the meds wear off. The community meeting should be interesting today and tomorrow, especially since we canceled all privileges!" Monique rolled her eyes as she imagined the backlash she would get from Anthony.
Alex sighed. "Yes, I suspect you're right. We've got to get Don and Whitset to agree to hire more security at the Pavilion for the next few weeks."
"Good luck with that, Alex," Monique said in a sarcastic voice as she arched her eyebrows. "Whitset told me this morning he wasn't authorizing any increased help – – either professional or security. He maintains the unit is safe …."
Alex interrupted her, her face flushed with anger and her voice defensive. "That's insane! That man's crazy! If it was safe and we had enough staff, Mrs. Smithson would more than likely still be alive today."
Monique held up her hand. "
Save it for the executive meeting, Alex. We will need all the support we can muster to fight the boys. From what I can tell, Whitset has Montgomery in his pocket. It's pretty disgusting." Monique pulled vigorously at her chignon and several large masses of her dark here came loose.
Alex was astounded at how 'human' Monique had become in the past few days. Before, the distinguished psychiatrist, while always supportive of Alex and friendly, had been aloof, cool, and unapproachable – or, at least, unapproachable in a proverbial human sort of way. Now, she seemed to be real -- a real person like Alex, who struggled endlessly with the trials and tribulations of working in a male-dominated organization. It wasn't that Alex had a problem working with men in general, it was just that she had a problem working with incompetent people … and most of the incompetent leadership at CCMC was male.
Thank goodness she was meeting this side of Monique Desmonde. It was going to be great to have a colleague to hang out with who was part of the same dysfunctional organization. Of course, she had Elizabeth, but Elizabeth was much younger and Alex was both her boss and her mentor. It wasn't quite the same. Dr. Desmonde was a power broker in the organization.
Alex touched her shoulder and said, "Monique, in some respects these events, terrible though they are, have created a bond between us. We'll work through this together."
Monique squeezed her hand in return and said, "I agree. Two heads are better than one and I need all the help I can get."