by Robin Mahle
In 2015, Bishop began his residency at Our Lady of Mercy Hospital in Providence. During his first year, he had been disciplined three times by the attending physician for improperly documenting patient records. Examinations appeared to have been faked on some occasions, though that could never be proved.
It wasn’t until his third year of residency that complaints from fellow residents were filed against him. Most stated that Bishop had erred in treatment protocols resulting in two patients coding, though they were saved.
The hospital did as the medical school had done—looked the other way. Eventually, Bishop passed his licensing exams and his board certification after his third attempt.
As Zimmerman read on, it appeared more and more likely that Bishop had been underhanded throughout his entire medical career. One thing had been true, Bishop did not renew his license due to the cost of his malpractice insurance. However, the reason it had been high wasn’t in this file. Pete was right to have been concerned. Now that Zimmerman had Bishop’s details, it was enough to let the man go.
The second shift was returning as dawn emerged. Pete walked into the changing room at the station and pulled off his coat to hang in his locker.
Bishop approached his own locker. “It was a quiet night tonight. After watching the chaos of the wildfire, I thought I would welcome the mundane, but I guess I sort of missed being needed.”
Pete tossed him a sideways glance. “You know how it goes around here. One quiet night means a busy week. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed again.”
“Oh, now, don’t get me wrong,” Bishop said. “It’s not that I want anyone to need us.”
“No. No, I get it.” Pete closed his locker door. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, man. Have a good one.”
“You too, Pete.” Bishop watched him leave and turned back to his locker. He kept a black bag inside with a change of clothes in case things got messy, which they sometimes did. He unzipped it and with a glance around to be sure no one watched, Bishop retrieved two syringes from his pants pocket and slipped them inside the bag.
Zimmerman entered the locker room. “Hey, Theo, you have a minute?”
Bishop quickly closed his locker door. “Yeah, sure, Chief.” He followed Zimmerman to his office. “Is everything okay?”
“Take a seat.” Zimmerman closed the door and returned to his desk. “Listen, Theo, I just got word from upstairs that we’re cutting back on staff. Some bullshit about city budget cuts. You know how it goes.”
Bishop nodded with a stone face.
“Anyway, man, since you’re our most recent hire, I have no choice but to let you go. I’m really sorry. You’re a good technician.”
Bishop kept his eyes on the floor. “Is it because I went and volunteered at those two disaster sites?”
“No. Not at all. In fact, I used that as an argument to keep you on, but it has nothing to do with your work. It’s the money. It always comes down to money, you know.”
“So, that’s it? No severance or anything?” Bishop asked, finally turning his sights to Zimmerman.
“You don’t have enough seniority for that benefit. Like I said, I’m really sorry, man. This is the part of the job that I hate.” He felt his pulse rise as he wondered if Bishop would escalate the matter.
“Well, I guess there’s nothing more for me to say, except that it’s been a real pleasure working for you, Chief.” Bishop started toward the door. “And hey, if you know of anyone hiring…”
“You know I’ll put in a good word for you.”
“Thanks, Chief.” Bishop walked through the station as if he hadn’t just been fired. A quick stop to clear his locker and he continued on, saying nothing to his colleagues, and arrived at his car in the parking lot. As he keyed the lock, he spotted Pete sitting in his car.
Pete looked away in an instant and turned the engine. Little puffs of smoke drifted from his exhaust in the cool morning air and he pulled away.
Bishop kept his sights firmly on Pete’s car as it disappeared in the distance. He huffed and shook his head. “Guess you knew it was coming and didn’t bother saying anything.” He slipped behind the wheel and started the car before peering at his belongings on the passenger seat, including the entire contents of his locker. The black bag sat atop all of it. With a wry smile, Bishop drove away.
Detective Muncie with the Riverside police department rubbed the back of his neck while he listened to the M.E. on the phone. “How soon can you get me the lab results?”
“I’ll send them over to you now. Let me know if there’s anything else you need from me. I’ll do everything in my power to assist you in this investigation.”
“I appreciate that, Doctor. Thank you.” It was in the hands of Detective Muncie who had already entered the first two cases into ViCAP. It was time to enter the third and make the call to the Houston FBI agent who had matched a similar investigation to his. “Good morning, can I speak with Agent Mitch Palmero, please?” He waited on the line for only a moment when the agent picked up the call.
“Palmero here.”
“This is Detective Muncie in Riverside, Agent Palmero. How are you?”
“Doing all right, Detective, and yourself?”
“I’ll be honest with you, I’d be feeling a lot better if I hadn’t just gotten off the phone with the M.E.’s office up here. Looks like we got ourselves a bonafide serial killer, Agent Palmero. The toxicology came back on the third suspected victim and it matched the same poisoning that was in the other two.”
“Along with what we have going on over here in Oakview, I’d say you’re right about your assessment. Can you send me what you have? I’ve already put in a call to our experts in this situation, the BAU in Quantico. I think we might have ourselves a real situation here, Detective.”
“I’ll send over what I have now.”
“Good. And as soon as I know if our experts will be putting their hands on this, I’ll get in touch with you and we’ll probably have to have a sit-down.”
“Whatever you need, Agent Palmero, you just let me know.”
“Sounds good. I’ll speak to you soon.” Palmero ended the call. “Five dead. All poisoned. All from a possible volunteer. Shit. Scarborough’s going to love this.”
Fisher stood at the head of the table and tossed a file folder to each team member. “Okay. Here’s what we know so far. We have two different disaster sites. A wildfire in Riverside, California and Hurricane Edward that hit Oakview, Texas. Both happened within weeks of each other. Both had hundreds of volunteers from all over the country. And now we know that during both events, a volunteer, or volunteers, are suspected of murdering at least five during the course of their supposed rescue efforts. There could be more, and likely are more, however, it remains to be seen if other connections in other locations have been made.”
Kate flipped through the file. “The tox screen shows three victims were injected with poison. All differing poisons at that. A fourth victim died from lack of oxygen, and the fifth in Oakview, Texas, appeared to die from some sort of drug interaction. What makes this fourth victim different?”
“That drug interaction happened when the victim was given a high dose of potassium and with the existing kidney disease, led to a fatal outcome. Victim number four appeared to die from asphyxiation, though they’re still awaiting what caused it and suspect it could even have been a possible allergic reaction to a medication.”
“Our guy has medical knowledge,” Walsh added.
“He does,” Nick interjected but shot a look to Fisher before continuing. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt.”
“Not at all, Scarborough. Go on. The agent in Houston reached out to you and brought this to us,” Fisher replied.
“From what Mitch Palmero in Houston mentioned to me, the unsub, he believes, is either a paramedic or a doctor. Given the level of medical knowledge, it probably is someone with more in-depth knowledge than your average EMT.”
“But they have no idea who this perso
n, this volunteer is?” Duncan asked.
“That’s where we have ourselves a real problem,” Fisher replied. “The local investigators are already working on obtaining the names of the volunteers who registered. Of course, that doesn’t mean all were registered.”
“And if this guy went there with the sole intention of murdering people, what are the odds he stopped to fill out some paperwork?” Kate asked.
Walsh pressed his index finger on his nose. “Bingo. Where does that leave us, Fisher? Talk about a needle in a haystack.”
“You got that right. But here’s where I’d like to start. Now, we’ll have help from the Houston Field Office as Agent Palmero is the lead investigator, but he has asked for our expertise. I think once we’re all up to speed, we may want to head over there and get our hands on any DNA evidence those guys get off the bodies. Palmero has a team gathering statements from other volunteers to see if anyone got a weird vibe off the medical volunteers. We don’t have a lot to go on right now.”
“He’s an opportunist,” Kate said. “He wants the easy kill.”
“I agree,” Fisher said with an eagle eye trained on Kate. “What else?”
“Obvious medical training. He pretends to be the hero. I think he wants his victims to look on him as their savior. Not that all doctors are this way, but I think some of them like to play God. They like the power. This guy likes the power and he uses it against his victims.”
“You believe he’s a licensed physician?” Nick asked.
“That would be my initial guess.” She turned back to Fisher. “If we get any DNA off the bodies, it won’t be hard to track down the unsub. If he’s a doctor, he’ll be in the system.”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Walsh added. “I can almost guarantee this isn’t the first time it’s happened. He’s careful. Pulling DNA is a pipe dream. There’s a history here and I’ll bet if we look deeper, we’ll find a connection to other similar sites. I think that’s where I’d like to start.” He looked to Fisher. “Before we spend our resources heading to Houston on what little we know right now, I say let’s gather everything we can from here first. It’ll give Agent Palmero an opportunity to sift through his team’s reports on the volunteers and it’ll give Reid a chance to draft a profile.”
Fisher folded his arms and nodded before turning to Scarborough. “What about you? Any other thoughts? He’s your guy in Houston.”
“Walsh is right. It’s too early to bombard their office just yet. Palmero is coordinating with Riverside County too. I might make the suggestion they get the field office there involved in this too. This could span miles and years and is a lot to take on. We’ll need those teams to do some of the legwork. In the meantime, I like where Walsh is going with this. But I’ll defer to you.”
Kate noticed and understood how difficult it must have been for Nick to concede. He was always in charge, since the day they met.
“I agree,” Fisher replied. “Why don’t you and I make a call after this to Palmero and let him know the plan and get his take. Thank you all for the valuable input. Let’s get to work.”
Theo Bishop waited at the counter of the National Registry Office for EMTs in Charlotte, North Carolina.
“Here you are, sir. You are now officially registered in the state of North Carolina.”
Bishop took the documents from the young woman behind the counter. “Thank you so much. I look forward to serving the people of Charlotte. Have a nice day.” He walked to his car and stepped inside, peering at the certification before setting it on the passenger seat.
The chance that he would sail into another EMT position in Baltimore was a long shot. Word got around quickly inside the community and he was certain Pete Fryer had something to do with his being fired. His best option was to pick up and move. He’d done it before, just like Philly. No big deal. It wasn’t like he had any ties in Baltimore. What ties he did have were far away and he wasn’t the type to stay in touch. No family visits at Christmas. No birthdays to celebrate. Now he would be starting fresh in a new city. This time, he would be more careful.
The job interview had already been lined up and Bishop was on his way. Now that he had the paperwork, this should be a no-brainer. Most of these guys were impressed with Bishop because he was a doctor, even if he wasn’t practicing. And it seemed no one questioned his reasoning for not currently practicing. Either that, or they just didn’t care. It was probably the latter, but Bishop felt he was better than any of them. He could identify just about any medical situation they would come across.
Where he messed up with Pete, though, was his vagueness as to what transpired when the old woman croaked. Bishop saw it in Pete’s eyes then. He knew the time was coming that he would have to pick up and leave again. Still, they could prove nothing. Bishop had gone to great lengths to ensure he left nothing behind and no witnesses.
The look in her eyes when she figured out his intentions. The thought of it now excited him. Her frail fingers clasping his wrist. She saw her imminent demise in his face, and it was the shot of adrenaline he needed. The power of taking a life. It was exhilarating.
Bishop arrived at the Charlotte Fire and EMS station where he was to interview with the paramedic and if he passed that test, he would interview with the fire chief himself. “Hello, I’m here to meet with Mr. Davenport with EMS. I’m Dr. Theodore Bishop here for an interview.”
One of the firefighters wiped down the engine and gazed at Bishop. “You’re a doctor?”
“I am.”
The firefighter eyed him, then tossed his head toward the back of the station. “Head that way. Down the hall, third door on the right. Good luck, Doctor.”
Bishop smiled and headed toward the door marked EMS and knocked.
“Come in.”
He opened the door. “Hello, Mr. Davenport? I’m Dr. Theodore Bishop here for the EMT position.”
“Yes, hi there. Why don’t you close the door and come on in?”
Bishop offered a nod and a smile before closing the door. He sat down in a chair across from Davenport’s desk.
“I understand you have the new certification from the state?” Davenport asked.
“Yes, sir. It’s right here.” Bishop handed him the document. “I’m also registered with the National Registry. They’ll have my employment history as well.”
Davenport perused the details. “I had a chance to reach out to your previous employer in Baltimore. A Ray Zimmerman.”
Bishop’s mouth dried and his eyes flickered for a moment. “Oh, good. He was an excellent supervisor and a good man.”
“Unfortunately, he has yet to return my call, so I’ll have to take your word for it. Tell me, Dr. Bishop, why are you an EMT when you’re clearly a medical doctor?”
“It’s a bit of a long story, but I’ll just say that the cost of being a doctor acts as a hindrance. And frankly, I prefer to get out there and help where I’m needed most. Working in a family practice and writing prescriptions for antibiotics isn’t the most exciting thing I’ve ever done.” Bishop watched Davenport’s reaction. Was he going to buy it, or keep pushing this line of questioning? Not that Bishop couldn’t handle it. He’d been here plenty of times before. But the question remained, would Davenport give two shits about Bishop’s past or did he just need a warm body in a truck?
“I’m sure your talents would be put to better use in an emergency situation. The kind we face every day. So, are you opposed to the night shift?”
Davenport cleared the way. Bishop relaxed his shoulders and wore a friendly smile. “Don’t mind the night shift at all, sir.”
7
Kate positioned herself in front of the whiteboard in her office. Photographs of the five victims were attached with magnets. Under each photo was a brief description and cause of death. There was no regional connection to the victims. The killer had used the cover of a natural disaster to hide his intentions.
“He would need the means, the money and time.”
“Talking
to yourself again, hey Reid?”
Kate spun around. “Eva. I guess I am.” She turned back to the board. “What do you think?”
“I think that the Houston Field Office found no DNA left behind on any of the victims and they’re still sifting through the list of volunteers; the ones who signed-in, anyway.” Duncan gazed at the board. “I hope you can pull a rabbit from a hat. We need a profile. We need a place to look.”
“There has to be someone who remembers him.” Kate turned to her. “Has anyone talked to the triage doctors? Maybe one of them remembers who brought in these people for treatment. If we can’t find a volunteer, maybe we find the doctors.”
“Palmero might already be on it, but I can follow up on that.” Duncan placed her hand on Kate’s shoulder. “How are you holding up in here on your own?”
“I’m adjusting. I miss the back and forth I had with Quinn. He was brilliant.”
“A brilliant, manipulative, asshole,” Duncan replied. “You’re pretty bright yourself. I’ll leave you to your work and check up on those doctors. If I hear anything, I’ll get back with you.”
“Thanks.” Kate returned to her board. “What am I not seeing here? Who the hell are you?” An idea took shape and she returned to her desk and pressed the intercom. “Levi, do you have a minute to come to my office?”
“On my way,” he replied.
Kate waited for his arrival, which only took a moment.
Walsh entered. “At your service, Agent Reid. What can I do you for?”
She placed her fingers on her chin. “I think I’ve overlooked the obvious with our unsub.”
“How do you mean?”
“I’ve been thinking this guy only uses the opportunity to kill during times of chaos. These natural disasters.”
“Which we’re looking into the past five across the country to see if any of those locations had similar deaths,” he said.
“Right. And that’s what we need to do, but what if the killer manages to pull off similar stunts with his own patients? We know he has medical experience, likely a first-responder, right?”