The Virgil Jones Mystery Thriller Boxed Set

by Thomas Scott

  “And does You Know Who really care, or is You Know Who just busting my chops for the fun of it?”

  “The word ‘fun’ doesn’t exist in my life these days. What about her car?”

  “What about it?”

  Cora sighed heavily into the phone. “You’ve been hanging out with your husband too much. A little alone time might be good for you. Is her car there?”

  “The garage is attached. There aren’t any windows.”

  “How about a side door?”

  “Hang on…” Sandy went around to the opposite side of the garage and found the side door. When she turned the knob she was surprised to find the door unlocked. She pushed it open and saw Pam’s car. “I’m in the garage, Cora. Her car is here.”

  “Go back to your car and wait there,” Cora said. The tone of her voice had changed. “I’ll have a city patrol car there in five minutes or less.”

  Sandy placed her hand on the hood of the car. It was cool to the touch…it hadn’t been run recently. When she tried the interior door to the house the knob turned easily. She cracked the door. She could hear Cora in the background, over the phone.

  “Sandy, I said go wait out front. I’ve already got the city units rolling.”

  “The door is unlocked. I’m going in.”

  “No, you’re not, Sandy. Do you hear me? You’re eight months pregnant for Christ’s sake. Go back to your car and wait for the city units. Sandy? Sandy?”

  As soon as the cops entered the room, Decker abandoned the cart and hurried down the hall. He pressed the elevator button and got lucky when the bell chimed right away. The doors opened and he rode all the way to the ground floor before ducking into the men’s room for just a moment. He shed the hospital gear…the gloves, the shirt, the bonnet, the paper shoe covers, then stuffed everything into a trash can and covered it all with a healthy supply of paper towels. He pulled his ball cap back on and walked away, just a guy leaving the hospital. He never saw the cops.

  Never realized the mistake he made, either.

  Something was tugging at the back of Virgil’s brain when he and Murton entered Martha Esser’s hospital room. Something about the janitor they’d just passed in the hallway, but he couldn’t quite get a hold of the thought. There was a familiarity there, though he didn’t know why. He didn’t know any hospital janitors…did he?

  Inside, with the lights off and the curtains closed, the room was bathed in black. Murton made his way to the window and pulled the curtains halfway open.

  “What are you doing?” Virgil whispered. “She might be sleeping.”

  “We’re here to talk to her aren’t we? Besides, everyone knows they never let you sleep when you’re in the hospital.”

  He had a point, Virgil thought. The last time Virgil was in the hospital was the most sleep deprived he’d ever been. They tell you to get some rest, then come in every hour and wake you up to check your vital signs. It was exhausting.

  He turned back toward the door, pulled it open and looked back down the hallway. The janitor’s cart was still there, but the janitor was gone. He let the door swing shut and turned his attention back inside the room. “Did you get a look at that janitor?”

  “No, why?”

  “I don’t know. Something about him. Like I knew him or something.”

  “You want to go say hi or you want to talk with the victim?”

  Virgil didn’t bother to answer. With the curtains open and a little light in the room he noticed that Martha Esser was a hard looking woman. She might have been pretty at one time, but the years had not been kind to her. Her skin was gray and covered with deep wrinkles, her hair was thin and held no real color. Virgil thought it looked like curled fishing line…maybe two-pound test.

  They were standing at the foot of the bed when Virgil said, “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “Why is that machine turned off?”

  “That’s the one that monitors heart rate and pulse,” Murton said. He looked at the cord under the machine and said, “Uh oh. Look at that.”

  “What?”

  “That machine’s not turned off. Somebody sliced the cord.”

  Virgil moved closer to Martha Esser and saw that her lips were starting to blue, as were her eyelids, the tops of her ears and her fingertips. He yanked the blanket back and placed his hand on her chest. She was warm, but there was no heartbeat.

  “Murt, start CPR,” Virgil yelled as he ran toward the door.

  Murton moved to the bed, lowered the rail and immediately started chest compressions. “Where are you going?”

  “To get some help…and to find that janitor we saw in the hallway.”

  “What? The janitor?”

  Virgil didn’t answer. Just ran out the door and down the hall.

  “Sandy, they’re a half-block away,” Cora said. “Do not go into that house alone.”

  “Too late. I’m already in.” Sandy had made her way from the garage and stood in the laundry room that gave way to the kitchen. She stopped for a few seconds to listen and didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. Just regular house sounds…the fridge kicking on, a slow but steady dripping sound from a leaky kitchen faucet, the furnace fan running in the basement. The house had an open floor plan, laid out in an L-shape. She was in the long section of the L that gave her a view from the garage entrance through the kitchen and into the living room, but that was all. The front of the house and the hallway that led to the bedrooms was around the corner. She could hear Cora saying something in the phone but couldn’t make it out. When she brought the phone back up to her ear, she caught the tail end of it. “…at the front door.”

  “What? Say that again,” Sandy said as she moved into the kitchen.

  “I said two squad cars are there now. In ten seconds they’re going to be knocking at the front door.”

  “I think maybe we’re over-reacting here,” Sandy said. “It’s quiet. She’s probably still sleeping it off in her bedroom.” She was through the kitchen, moving into the living room, almost at the junction of the L now, ready to turn the corner. She heard the doorbell ring and someone pound on the front door. “I’ll unlock the front door and let the locals in and—”

  That was as far as she got. The door of the hall bathroom was open and when Sandy glanced that way she saw Pam on the floor, the white bathroom walls covered in blood.

  Cora heard Sandy scream Pam’s name over and over, then she heard the phone hit the floor and the connection went dead.

  Virgil ran to the central nursing station near the elevators and was so amped up he didn’t realize he was yelling at the nurses.

  “Sir, you’ll have to calm down or we’ll be forced to call security and have you removed.”

  It finally dawned on Virgil that he hadn’t identified himself to the nurses and he must look like a madman. He took a deep breath and forced himself to slow down. He pulled out his badge and said, “I’m Detective Virgil Jones with the state’s Major Crimes Unit. You’ve got a dead woman, Martha Esser, down the hall. My partner is giving her CPR right now.” Then he slowed down, “Ah man…she’s gone. Did you see a janitor come by here?”

  The nurses were already moving. One of them grabbed a crash cart and ran down the hall. The other picked up the phone and gave a code over the intercom that Virgil didn’t recognize. She started to follow the other nurse, but Virgil grabbed her arm and stopped her. “Listen to me for a minute.”

  She tried to yank her arm away. “Let go. You’re hurting me.”

  Virgil let go and held his arms up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just give me a second, please. Did you see the janitor? It wouldn’t have been more than two or three minutes ago, tops.”

  “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t at the desk. Neither of us were. We just finished turning a patient.” She was rubbing her arm where Virgil had grabbed her. When she continued, her voice had changed, now thick with contempt. “The main janitorial station is on the ground floor, near the south entrance by the shipping and receivi
ng area. Try there. I’ve got to go.”

  “I’m sorry about grabbing…” Virgil let her go. She wasn’t listening to him anyway. He spun around in a circle looking for the elevators, caught them just around the corner, pushed the button and waited, his heart rate beginning to slow. He’d seen enough dead people in his life to know that Martha Esser was gone. They might hook her up to the machines, but she’d never be back.

  He pushed the elevator button again, then again and thought, janitors don’t wear army issue combat boots, do they? Virgil had seen the tops of the boots poking out of the blue paper shoe covers while the janitor had been kneeling next to his cart. He ran it through his head all the way down to the ground floor. He was headed to the south entrance where the janitorial department was when his phone rang. He pressed the answer button, brought the phone up to his ear and said, “Jones.”

  “Virgil, it’s me. Where are you?”

  Cora. “I’m at Methodist. Martha Esser is dead. I think somebody killed her in her hospital bed.”

  “Is Wheeler with you?”

  “Yeah. What is it, Cora?”

  “All right…leave him there for now to handle Esser. I’ll get some extra help headed his way. You need to get over to Pam Donatti’s place.”

  Virgil could hear the tension in her voice. “Cora, what’s going on?”

  “Listen, Jonesy, I don’t know exactly how to say this…”

  “Just say it.” When Cora didn’t respond, Virgil started to put it together. “How bad is it?”

  “First glance says suicide.”

  “Ah, Jesus.” Virgil collapsed back against the wall and slid down to the floor, his free hand pressed against his forehead. After a moment he said, “Tell me what happened.”

  “We don’t know anything yet…other than it looks like a single GSW to the head. Homicide is on the way as we speak. The uniforms said the gun was still in her hand.”

  “I knew…I mean Sandy and I both knew that she’d been struggling, but…suicide? I didn’t think it—”

  Cora cut him off. “Listen, Jonesy…Sandy is there. She’s the one who found the body.”

  “What?” That got him up and moving. The elevator doors had opened and were just starting to close again. He squeezed through the doors and punched the button for the ground floor. Cora filled him in with the details as he headed for his truck.

  “She went over there…I don’t know why, but when she couldn’t get an answer at the door she called me and told me she wanted a city patrol to go over for a wellness check. I had two units rolling while we were on the phone, but she went in anyway without waiting.”

  “And you let her?” Virgil was hot, and his voice didn’t hide the fact.

  “What was I supposed to do? Her mind was made up before she ever called me. She went in through the garage, saw that Pam’s car was there—”

  “All right, all right…I get it. Is she okay?”

  “Pretty shook up, but yeah, I think so. I couldn’t get ahold of her for a few minutes. She dropped her phone. I think it’s busted. But I’ve talked with the medics. They’re with her and said she’s okay.”

  “Where in the hell is Jonas?”

  “Jonas? Uh, I don’t know about Jonas. Becky told me that you guys had him last night…I thought he was with Sandy.”

  “You mean he’s there?”

  “No…I mean I don’t know where he is. He’s not there…at the scene.”

  Virgil was running toward his truck as they were speaking. “Okay, I’m on my way. Can you get me an escort? I don’t have any electronics on the truck yet.”

  “Yeah…let’s see, you’ll be going, what, southwest out of there?”

  “Yes. And I’m not waiting. Have them pick me up on 465, at exit…uh, shit I can’t remember the number.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I know where you mean. Just go. There’ll be two units waiting for you at the ramp. They’ll box you and you can go.”

  Virgil yanked open the truck door, fired the engine and took off. “I’m rolling now,” he said as he turned the corner out of the hospital valet lot, his tires squealing in protest.

  “I can hear that,” Cora said. “Take it easy until you get to the highway.”

  “Fuck that,” Virgil said. “Make sure they keep up.” He ended the call and pressed the accelerator to the floor.

  Murton continued doing CPR until the nurses came in with the crash cart. A doctor showed up a few minutes later and pronounced Martha Esser dead. He noted the time of death, made a few marks on her bedside chart and left the room. Murton followed him out to the hallway.

  “Hold on, Doc. I’m going to need that room sealed. Let’s get the nurses out of there.”

  The doctor cocked his head. “I think you can relax, Detective. I’m guessing she probably had a clot that let go. We see strokes in patients with the kind of head trauma she’d suffered. Even with the preventative meds, sometimes it’s simply not enough. It’ll all be in the autopsy report.”

  “That may or may not be true,” Murton said. “The information we had indicated she was well enough to sign some pretty important legal documents. Plus, she was moved from intensive care to the rehab wing. Doesn’t that mean she was going to make it?”

  The doctor scratched the back of his neck, then tipped his head, an indication for Murton to follow him away from the room. “Not necessarily. She was transferred out of intensive care because she was breathing on her own and had regained consciousness. We needed the beds in the ICU, so the rehab floor took her because if she did make it, this is where she’d have ended up anyway. Happens all the time.”

  Murton thought the doctor’s statement had a touch of bullshit mixed in there somewhere, but he took it in stride, mostly because he didn’t think it mattered. “Look, you’re the doctor, okay, but I think someone came in and…suffocated her or something. I’m not sure. So we’re going to treat it as a crime scene, at least for now and that means I need that room cleared. I don’t want the area contaminated anymore than it already is.”

  The doctor let out a heavy sigh, like the whole thing was inconvenient and unnecessary, but when Murton told him about the power cord that’d been cut the doctor walked back into the room, looked at the cord and nodded. “Okay, listen up, please. Stop what you’re doing and step out into the hallway.”

  The nurses were unhooking the IVs and monitor leads from Martha’s body. They looked at the doctor, then at Murton, then back at the doctor. “Don’t touch anything else please,” Murton said. “Just step away from the bed and move out to the hallway.”

  One of them looked at the doctor and said, “What’s going on?”

  “This is officer…” The doctor looked at Murton and said, “I didn’t get your name.”

  “I’m Detective Murton Wheeler with the Indiana State Police Major Crimes Unit. We’re investigating the death of Mrs. Esser’s husband, Charles Esser. We have reason to believe that Mrs. Esser’s death was not a result of her injuries. We think she’s been murdered, possibly by one of your hospital employees, or someone posing as an employee.”

  Both of the nurses put their hands to their chests, like they’d been trained to do so if they were ever informed of that type of news. “That’s ridiculous,” one of them said. “You think one of us killed her?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said it was possible someone posing as a hospital employee. Now, please, do not touch anything in this room. In fact, put your hands in your pockets and step out in the hallway and wait for me there. Doctor, you too.”

  The three hospital employees left the room and once they were outside, Murton opened the curtains all the way and turned the overhead lights on with his elbow. He stood at the foot of the bed and looked at the entire room without moving. Other than the monitor cord being cut, he saw nothing out of the ordinary, nothing out of place. He took his phone out of his pocket and tried to call Virgil. When he didn’t get an answer he went out to the hall and spoke to the doctor.

  “Can you
get someone from hospital security up here to guard the room until I can get our crime scene people here?”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” the doctor said. “I’ll get someone started this way right now.” He made a call and a few seconds later said, “They’re on their way.” Then, “You really think she was murdered?”

  “Looks like it, unless she got out of bed, cut the cord on her own monitor, then got back in bed and coincidentally had a stroke.”

  The nurses looked at each other, then at Murton. “Are we in any danger here?” one of them asked.

  “I don’t think so, especially if you didn’t see anyone. You didn’t see anyone going in or out of the room, did you?”

  “No, but the other gentleman…I guess he’s your partner? He was going on like a crazy man…something about a janitor. But I didn’t see a janitor. He grabbed my arm really hard. Look at this bruise.”

  Murton tried to give her a sympathetic look, something he knew he wasn’t very good at. He looked at the other nurse. “How about you?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. “No, I don’t think I did, but I don’t know that I’d remember if I did or not. You get so used to seeing certain things and after a while you don’t even know you’re seeing them. Like that janitorial cart right there.” She pointed with her chin. “I see those carts all day long. I don’t even notice them anymore. I probably wouldn’t even remember seeing that one, except your partner mentioned a janitor. Does that make sense?”

  It did, Murton thought. “Okay, listen, you guys can get back to work, but stay close until the crime scene people arrive. They’re going to want to get your fingerprints.” The nurses started to make a fuss, but Murton waved them down. “It’s just so we can eliminate you. You’re not suspects. Also, there’s going to be some other detectives showing up, and a few uniformed cops as well. They’ll want to question you. If you remember anything that might matter, anything at all, tell the other police officers when they arrive.”