by Robin Cook
“That is clearly assault,” Randolph said. “You could bring charges.”
“The episode is a little more complicated,” Jack said. “The only witness was Fasano’s thug, who I ended up striking after he struck me. The bottom line is that I personally have no intention of pressing charges.”
“Is there any proof whatsoever Tony Fasano was behind today’s criminal acts?” Randolph asked. “If there is, I’m certain I could get a mistrial.”
“No proof,” Craig said. “My daughters said they might be able to recognize a voice, but they are not at all certain.”
“Perhaps the police will have more luck?” Randolph said. “What about the autopsy? Is that going to be done or not?”
“We’re trying to decide,” Alexis said.
“Obviously it is the girls’ safety that is the issue,” Craig said.
“If it were to be done, when would it be?”
“The body is scheduled to be exhumed in the morning,” Jack said. “I’ll do the autopsy immediately, but the initial results will only involve gross pathology.”
“That’s very late in the course of events,” Randolph said. “Perhaps it’s not worth the effort or the risk. Tomorrow, after Dr. Bowman testifies, I’m certain the judge will rule that the plaintiff has met his burden. I will then present the defense, which will be the testimony of our experts. That means Friday morning will be closing arguments.”
Jack’s phone rang. He still had it in his hand, and it startled him. He quickly left the room before answering. It was Lou.
“I got ahold of Liam, and I told him the story and gave him the address. He’s going to be right over with some of the Newton police. He’s a good guy.”
“Did you ask about the gun?”
“I did. He was not excited about the idea, but I gave him glowing reports about your integrity and all that bullshit.”
“Well, what’s the bottom line? Is he going to come through or what? If all goes well, they’ll be digging up the body in the morning, and thanks to all these threats, I’ll feel like a sitting duck.”
“He said he’d fix you up, but he’s going to hold me responsible.”
“What does that mean?”
“I assume he’s going to give you a gun, so be careful with the damn thing!”
“Thanks for the advice, Dad,” Jack said. “I’ll try my damnedest to shoot as few people as possible.”
Jack returned to the family room. Craig, Alexis, and Randolph were still discussing the autopsy issues. The consensus had tripped in favor of still doing it despite the time constraint. The main argument from Randolph was the possibility of using any potentially significant findings to help with the appeal process, if an appeal became necessary, to vacate the verdict, to obtain a new trial, or to allocate the award according to contributory negligence. Randolph called to everyone’s attention that the records clearly documented that Patience Stanhope refused on several occasions against medical advice to have any more cardiac evaluation after her questionable ECG stress test.
When a break came in the conversation, Jack informed the group that Detective Lieutenant Liam Flanagan was on his way.
“We want you to do the autopsy if you are still willing,” Alexis said to Jack, seemingly ignoring his statement.
“I gathered as much,” he said. “I’m happy to do it if that’s what you people want.” He looked at Craig. Craig shrugged.
“I’m not going to go against the grain,” Craig said. “With all the stress I’m under, I don’t trust my judgment.”
“Fair enough,” Jack said. Once again, Jack felt Craig was demonstrating unexpected insight.
The doorbell rang again, and again Alexis ran to get it, saying it must be the grandparents. But for the second time she was wrong. Standing at the door were five policemen, two of which were in Newton Police Department uniforms. Alexis invited them into the house and led them to the great room.
“I am Detective Lieutenant Liam Flanagan,” the big, red-faced Irishman said in a booming voice. He had bright, baby-blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his flat, prizefighter’s nose. He proceeded to introduce the others, which included Detective Greg Skolar, officers Sean O’Rourke and David Shapiro, and crime-scene investigator Derek Williams.
As Liam made the introductions, Jack studied him. There was something familiar, as if Jack had met the man sometime in the past, yet he thought that unlikely. Suddenly, it came to him. When he had a chance to introduce himself to Liam, he asked, “Did I see you at the medical examiner’s office this morning?”
“Yes, you did,” Liam said effusively. He laughed. “Now I remember you. You went into the autopsy room.”
After getting a brief overview of the incident at the Bowman residence, the crime-scene investigator and the two uniformed officers went off to check out the yard while there was still a little daylight. The sun had set, but it was not yet completely dark. The two detectives were mostly interested in the children, and the children responded to being the center of attention.
While that was going on, Randolph asked Craig if he was up to the rehearsal they’d planned for the following day’s testimony.
“How necessary do you think it is?” Craig protested. He was understandably preoccupied.
“I’d say exceedingly crucial,” Randolph commented. “Perhaps you should recall your performance during your deposition. It would be calamitous to repeat it in front of the jurors. It has become apparent that the opposing side’s stratagem is to present you as an arrogant, uncaring M.D. who was more interested in getting to Symphony Hall on time with your trophy girlfriend than in your seriously ill patient’s welfare. We must prevent you from presenting yourself in any way that substantiates such allegations. The only way is to rehearse. You are a good doctor, but you are a poor witness.”
Chastened by Randolph’s less-than-flattering assessment, Craig docilely agreed to a practice session. He interrupted the detectives long enough to tell the children he’d just be in the library.
Suddenly, Jack and Alexis found themselves regarding each other. At first they had been listening intently to the children’s description of their ordeal, but when it became repetitious as the detectives diligently searched for any possible missed but significant information, their interest waned. In order to talk, they stepped back into the kitchen area.
“I want to say again how sorry I am about everything that has happened,” Jack offered. “My intentions were good, but I’ve been more of a hindrance than a help.”
“None of this could have been anticipated,” Alexis said. “You needn’t apologize. You have been an enormous help to me moralewise, and also to Craig. He’s been a different man since you’ve been here. In fact, I’m still shocked at the insight he expressed at lunch.”
“I hope it’s lasting insight. What about the girls? How do you see them reacting to this experience?”
“I’m not sure,” Alexis admitted. “They’re pretty together kids, despite their father generally not having been available as they’ve been growing up. On the other hand, I’ve been very close to each one. There’s good communication. We’ll just have to take it day by day and let them voice their feelings and concerns.”
“Do you have any specific plans for them?”
“Mainly to get them to their grandparents. They adore their grandmother. They all have to sleep in the same room, which they usually complain about, but under the circumstances, I think it will be good for them.”
“Are you going?”
“That had been what we were discussing when you came in. My inclination is to go. It’s a way of acknowledging that their fears are legitimate, which is important. The last thing that should be done is to offer them platitudes that they’ll be fine and they shouldn’t have to be afraid. They should be afraid. It was obviously a very traumatizing ordeal. I thank God they weren’t physically injured more than they were.”
“How are you going to make your decision whether to go or not?”
“Do you think they’ll need professional help, like some sort of therapy?”
“I don’t think so. Only if their fearfulness is prolonged or blows out of proportion. I suppose ultimately it will be a judgment call. Luckily, I have some colleagues at work who I can exploit for an opinion if need be.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Jack said. “Since my presence has caused so much trouble, maybe it would be best for everyone if I move into a hotel in town.”
“Absolutely not,” Alexis said. “I won’t hear of it. You’re here, and you are staying here.”
“Are you sure? I won’t take it personally.”
“I’m positively sure. Let’s not even discuss it.”
The front doorbell chimed yet again. “This has to be the grandparents,” Alexis said categorically, pushing off from the kitchen counter where she’d been leaning.
Jack glanced back toward the sitting area where the detectives and children were. It appeared that their interview was coming to an end. The two uniformed policemen and the crime-scene technician had returned to the great room and were dealing with the duct-tape strips that had bound the children.
A few minutes later, Alexis brought in the elder Bowmans. Leonard was a thick, pasty man with a two-day growth of beard, an old-fashioned crew cut, and an expansive gut suggesting he spent far too much time drinking beer in his favorite recliner in front of the TV. When Jack was introduced to him, Jack learned something even more idiosyncratically distinctive: Leonard was a man of few words who would have put the laconic Spartans to shame. When Jack shook hands with the man, he merely grunted.
Rose Bowman was the antipode. When she appeared and the children rushed her, she bubbled with delight and concern. She was a short, stocky woman with frizzed white hair, bright eyes, and yellow teeth.
As the children dragged their grandmother to the couch, Jack found himself momentarily isolated with Leonard. In an effort to make conversation, Jack commented on how much the kids liked their grandmother. All Jack got in return was another muffled grunt.
With the police doing their thing, the kids involved with the grandmother, Alexis busy packing for the kids and herself, and Craig sequestered with Randolph in the library, Jack was stuck with Leonard. After a few more vain attempts to wring words out of the retiree’s mouth, Jack gave up. He checked with Liam Flanagan to be sure he would be there for at least another thirty minutes; picked up his pile of clothes and shoes from where he’d stacked them on the hearth; found Alexis, who was up in one of the kids’ rooms, and told her he was going to shower; and went downstairs to his room.
As he was showering, he guiltily remembered he’d not yet called Laurie. As he got out of the shower, he glanced at himself in the mirror and winced. He’d completely forgotten about the ice, and his lip was still swollen and blue. Combining that with the left side of his face, which was still red, he looked as if he’d been in a barroom brawl. He considered getting some ice from the refrigerator he’d seen in the basement proper but decided it would have minimal effect since too much time had elapsed, so he passed on the idea. Instead, he dressed and got out his cell phone.
With the signal strength almost nonexistent, Jack gave up on the phone idea as well. He climbed the stairs and met Alexis, the girls, and the grandparents in the main hall. Alexis had finished packing and had already put the luggage in the station wagon. The girls were pleading with Rose to ride with them, but Rose said she had to go with Gramps. It was then that Jack heard Leonard’s only words: “Come on, Rose,” he said, grimly drawing the words out. It was an order, not a request. Dutifully, Rose detached herself from the children and hurried after her husband, who’d stepped out the front door.
“Will I see you in court tomorrow?” Alexis asked Jack as she herded the children toward the door to the garage. The girls had already said their good-byes to Craig, who was still working in the library with Randolph. “At some point,” Jack said. “I honestly don’t know what to expect the schedule to be. It’s out of my hands.”
All at once Alexis spun around, her expression reflecting a sudden realization. “Oh, my gosh,” she exclaimed. “I just remembered you are getting married on Friday. Tomorrow is already Thursday. I’ve been so preoccupied, I’ve completely forgotten. I’m sorry. Your wife-to-be must hate me for dragging you up here and keeping you hostage.”
“She knows me well enough to know where to assign blame if she’s inclined.”
“So you’ll do the autopsy and then head back to New York?”
“That’s the plan.”
At the door to the garage, Alexis told the girls to say good-bye to their uncle. Each gave Jack an obedient hug. Only Christina spoke. She whispered in Jack’s ear that she was sorry his daughters had burnt up in the plane. The totally unexpected comment took Jack by such surprise that it undermined his emotional equilibrium, and he had to choke back a tear. When Alexis gave him a hug, she sensed his new emotion and pulled back to look him in the eyes, mistaking its origin. “Hey,” she said. “We’re fine. The kids are going to be fine. Trust me!”
Jack nodded and found his voice. “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow, and I hope to hell to have something to offer that will make this all worthwhile.”
“Me, too,” Alexis said. She climbed into the station wagon and activated the garage door, which rolled up with a fearful clanking.
It was at that point that Jack realized he had to move his car. It was parked next to Craig’s Lexus and blocking the driveway. Jack sprinted past Alexis, motioning her to wait. He backed his Hyundai into the street and waited while Alexis did the same. With a beep and a wave, she drove off into the night.
As Jack pulled back into the driveway, he glanced at the two Newton police patrol cars and the two other nondescript, dark sedans belonging to the two detectives parked along the street. He wondered how close to finishing they were, since he was eager to talk to them in private, particularly Liam Flanagan. In answer to his question, all five police officers emerged from the Bowmans’ front door as Jack climbed from his car.
“Excuse me!” Jack called. He jogged in their direction, catching up to them midway on the Bowmans’ serpentine front walk.
“Dr. Stapleton,” Liam said. “We were looking for you.”
“Have you finished checking out the scene?” Jack asked.
“For the moment.”
“Any luck?”
“The duct tape will be analyzed at the crime lab, as will some fibers from the kid’s bathroom. There wasn’t a lot. We did find something on the grounds that I’m not at liberty to divulge, which could be promising, but all in all, it was obviously a professional job.”
“What about the autopsy that’s at the center of this extortion attempt?” Detective Greg Skolar asked. “Is it going to happen or what?”
“If the exhumation happens, then the autopsy will happen,” Jack said. “I’ll be doing it as soon as the body is available.”
“Strange to have such an incident over an autopsy,” Detective Skolar said. “Are you expecting some shocking revelations?”
“We don’t know what to expect. All we know for certain is the patient had a heart attack. Obviously, this has heightened our curiosity.”
“Weird!” Detective Skolar said. “For your peace of mind, as well as the Bowmans’, we’ll have the house under twenty-four-hour surveillance for a few days.”
“I’m sure the Bowmans will be appreciative. I know it will make me sleep better.”
“Keep us informed of any new developments,” Detective Skolar said. He handed Jack a business card before shaking his hand. The other uniformed officers shook his hand as well.
“Can I speak to yo
u for a few minutes?” Jack asked Liam.
“By all means,” Liam replied. “I was about to ask you the same question.”
Jack and Liam said good-bye to the Newton police, and the police drove off in their respective vehicles, which were rapidly swallowed by the inky darkness. Night had fallen reluctantly, but now the transition was complete. The only light in the neighborhood was from the Bowmans’ front windows and from a lonely streetlamp in the opposite direction the police had gone. Above in the dark sky a narrow scimitar-shaped sliver of a moon peeked through the leafy canopy of the trees lining the street.
“Want to sit in my limo?” Liam asked as they reached his bottom-of-the-line Ford.
“Actually, it’s beautiful outside,” Jack said. It had cooled from the day, and the temperature was invigorating.
With both men leaning against the vehicle, Jack told the story of his confrontation with Tony Fasano, the threat he’d received, and his two fisticuffs with his crony, Franco. Liam listened intently.
“I’m acquainted with Tony Fasano,” Liam responded. “He’s an individual who’s going in a lot of different directions, including personal-injury litigation and now medical malpractice. He’s even done some criminal work defending a handful of low-level nasties, which is how I am aware of him. I have to say he’s more clever than you might initially give him credit for.”
“I’ve had the same impression.”
“Do you think he’s behind this professional but crude extortion attempt? With the people he’s in bed with, he’s got the contacts.”
“It stands to reason, considering the way he threatened me, but then again, it seems almost too simple and too stupid, considering how clever he apparently is.”
“Do you have anyone else you suspect?”
“Not really,” Jack said. He briefly considered bringing up the conspiracy idea, but he thought the chances the notion had any validity were so infinitesimally small he was embarrassed to mention it.
“I’ll check into the Fasano angle,” Liam said. “His office is in the North End, so he falls under our jurisdiction, but with no evidence, at least so far, there is little we can do, especially in the short run.”