Evil in the 1st House (16 page)

Chapter Thirty-nine

The hospital was on a hill in a rural area outside Clifton, New Jersey. There was a long, winding, circular driveway that led to the big colonial mansion that housed the sanitarium. Halfway up the drive Andy stopped the limo just long enough for Lowell and Mort to jump out behind a giant azalea bush. They scurried for cover as Andy continued up the driveway.

There were few lights on the property and no visible security. Lowell and Mort were able to reach the building without being seen. Cameras were a possibility, and they kept a watch for any mounted hardware, but didn't see any. There was a locked door on the side of the hospital that took Mort less than two minutes to pick.

“How
do
you do that?”

The strange man chuckled. “I don't know. It's just obvious which way to turn the pick.”

They entered the hospital through a large vacant room with a fireplace. It appeared to be a gathering place, perhaps for the staff. There was a bar and a number of couches and leather chairs. They tiptoed to the door and Lowell slowly opened it, peering out into the hallway. He checked his watch. Any second now.

Right on time, Sarah began her acting.

“What do you mean my brother isn't here?” She was shouting at the admitting nurse. “I was told he was taken to this hospital! I demand to know what's going on.”

The nurse picked up the phone and a few moments later several people scurried past their door. Lowell and Mort waited a few moments, and then quickly exited the room, turned right, away from the fracas, and found an unattended staircase. They hustled up to the second floor, turned the corner, and just missed running into an intern who was hurrying down the front staircase. They waited a moment until he was out of sight.

“We only have a few minutes,” said Lowell, “so let's spilt up.”

Mort went to the left and Lowell to the right. They opened each door and looked in. On the third try, Mort whistled a low, brief tweet. Lowell rushed over.

“He's in here,” Mort whispered.

They quietly entered the room closing the door behind them. It was nicely furnished, with bright curtains and several comfortable chairs. The late afternoon sun poured through the half-opened curtains casting eerie shadows on the walls. There was a large, flat-screen TV on the wall that was turned off, and a number of flower bouquets and get-well cards on the dresser. Except for a graphic novel for teens that sat on the night table, and a poster of a young female singer Lowell didn't recognize, there was little to interest a teenager.

In the bed lay the boy. Lowell walked over to him. His eyes were closed, and he seemed asleep. He looked to weigh perhaps eighty-five pounds. Although he was gaunt and pale, his features were so much like his brother Kevin's it was unsettling. Lowell thought he looked like a Xerox copy that didn't come out quite right. He had IVs in both arms and was attached to an elaborate mechanism that beeped every few moments. There was a monitor with a continuously moving line that would jump every couple of seconds. Lowell stared at it, momentarily mesmerized. Then he shook his head.

“I want some pictures,” he said, motioning to Mort. “Get some shots of him and these devices he's hooked up to.”

Mort took out a small digital camera and took several shots of the boy and the machines he was hooked up to. It took only a few minutes to complete the process. When he was done, Mort put the camera into his pocket and nudged Lowell.

Having seen what he came to see Lowell turned to leave when a frail voice stopped him.

“Who are you?”

Lowell turned to face the boy. “I just came by to see how you were doing.”

“Oh. Are you a doctor?”

“No, just someone who's concerned.”

The boy nodded, and then closed his eyes once more and fell back asleep.

As they sneaked out of the room they could hear Sarah wailing. They ran down the same staircase and out the side door, carefully staying in the shadows when possible. Lowell took out his cell phone and dialed Sarah.

“It's okay,” he said, “we're done.”

“Yes mother…You mean to tell me you sent me to the wrong hospital? Do you know how upset I've been and how much trouble I've caused these good people?…Alright I'm on my way there now.”

She hung up and turned to the admitting nurse.

“I'm so dreadfully sorry for this terrible mix up. It appears my brother was taken to a hospital a few towns over. Please accept my apologies.”

The nurse frowned and nodded—her displeasure quite apparent.

Sarah hurried out of the hospital to the waiting limousine and jumped into the back. Andy slowly drove her down the driveway, stopping once again by the azaleas to pick up the boys.

Chapter Forty

The sun was just approaching the horizon when they got back to the office. Twilight would be in about half an hour. The late summer sun cast an otherworldly red hue about the city making it look like an artist's rendition of Mars on the cover of a nineteen sixties Ray Bradbury paperback.

Lowell took out his keys and opened the door to the Starlight Detective Agency. Sarah went in first and turned on the light on her desk. She was followed by Mort and Lowell.

“Mort, would you download those pictures for me now?”

Mort nodded emphatically. He took the digital camera from his pocket. “I can do it easier on your computer.” He started walking toward Lowell's private office. “David, have you got a beer? I'm dying of thirst.”

“In the fridge in my office. I'll have one too.”

“Sarah?”

“Sure. I'd love a cold one. Let me check the machine for messages.”

Lowell waved his hand. “Forget it. Do it in the morning. Let's just relax for a few minutes. That was an exhilarating experience.”

Sarah smiled. She liked working for Lowell. He was kind and smart, and paid her twice what she could make anywhere else. Besides, where else could she dress up and play private eye games?

Mort entered the inner office and turned on the overhead light. “Oh my God. David, get in here!”

Lowell and Sarah hurried through the door. Mort pointed to the safe. The Modigliani print was lying on the ground and the door of the safe was ajar. “You were robbed.”

Sarah gasped. “The million dollars.”

Mort turned toward her. “That's right. It was here.”

The redhead nodded silently. “A million dollars!” She turned to Lowell. “What are you going to do?”

Lowell didn't seem all that upset. He tugged on his ponytail and shrugged. “There's nothing much I can do.”

Sarah looked downright miserable. “What do you mean? There's got to be something you can do.”

Lowell sat behind his desk, leaned back in the chair, retied his ponytail and smiled a sly grin.

Mort looked at him for a moment. “You moved it, didn't you?”

His smile widened.

Sarah pushed her hair out of her face. “You did? How did you know?”

“There's just something so wrong about this whole affair that's made me more guarded. There's a nasty aspect happening in the sky right now. Uranus, the ruler of sudden events is in square to Pluto, the planet of vengeance and hidden agendas, and that square is being set off right now by the Sun and Mars. I thought it would be prudent to use some extra caution, so I took the money to the townhouse last night. The security system there is much better.”

Sarah sank into the couch. “Well, thank God that you did.” She took off her shoes and rubbed her feet. “Now I can really use that beer. This has been one hell of a day.”

Sarah went to the small kitchen and prepared the drinks and then sat back on the couch. She raised her chilled glass. “Here's to a million bucks and the smartest detective in New York.”

Mort laughed. “Here, here.” They clinked their glasses together and each took a sip. “Are you going to tell Lieutenant Roland about the break in?”

Lowell shook his head. “I wouldn't want to go through the hassle. There's nothing they can do about it anyway. And we didn't lose the money. Frankly, I would just as soon not discuss the briefcase and its contents until I see how this case works out. Have either of you mentioned it to anyone?”

They both shook their heads.

“Good. Let's keep it that way.”

Mort took a slug of beer. “I know the world's gone crazy and things aren't worth what they used to be. But that's still a lot of money to me.”

Sarah smiled strangely. “Do you know how many pairs of shoes I could buy with a million bucks?” She stared off into space imagining row after row of Steve Maddens.

“Who do you think did it?” asked Mort.

Lowell did not look happy. “There was only one person outside of us who knew I had it.”

Sarah nodded. “Williamson.”

Lowell tugged on his ponytail. “Exactly.”

“But why would he have someone try to steal it back?”

“I don't know. Maybe they were really looking for the computer files Karen's uncle sent. And maybe the million dollars was just the carrot for the jackass that he hired to do this.”

Sarah swigged her beer. “That's some carrot.”

Lowell nodded.

“Well,” said Mort, “they didn't get it.”

“No,” said Lowell, “they didn't. But that may not stop them from trying again. Hopefully this will all be cleared up tomorrow. In the meantime, Mort download those pictures. I'm going to need them right away. And Sarah, get me Dr. Martin Reed. You'll find his number in my files.”

Chapter Forty-one

Sarah took her beer back to her desk. A few minutes later the intercom buzzed. Lowell picked it up.

“I've got Dr. Reed on line one.”

“Martin, it's David Lowell.”

“David, how nice to hear from you. Nothing serious I hope.”

“Well, that depends upon your point of view. I'm fine.”

“Is it Melinda?”

“No, thank God. It's about a client. I was wondering if you could look at some pictures and tell me what's wrong with the patient.”

“I don't know until I've seen them. What's this about?”

“I'd rather tell you in person. I know it's getting late. Do you have any time today?”

“Just a minute, let me check my schedule.”

He put Lowell on hold. Insipid elevator music played: “You Light up My Life.” Lowell put the phone on speaker and turned it down. Of all the annoying things in society, and this was very near the top of his list.

After a few minutes Dr. Reed returned.

“David, are you there?”

Lowell picked up the phone. “I'm here.”

“Good. I thought the music might have been too much for you.”

Lowell laughed. “I almost gave up.”

“Terrible, isn't it? I've tried to get them to remove it, but everyone in the office tells me that without it people will think we've hung up on them. I'm pretty much done for the day. I've got some paperwork to take care of and then I'm heading home. But I'll be here for a little while. I can see you in about thirty minutes. Does that work?”

“I'll be there. Thank you, Martin.”

Lowell hung up and called Andy, who was waiting downstairs with the limo when Lowell exited the building. They nodded to each other as he got into the back of the car.

“Bellevue Hospital, Andy.”

“Having problems, Boss?”

“Yes, but nothing a little Prozac couldn't clear up.”

“Shall I wait, or are you checking in?”

Lowell laughed.

***

Andy drove up First Avenue and pulled over at the hospital entrance. Lowell got out in front of the storied building.

“I shouldn't be long. They'll probably make you move. I'll text you when I'm ready to leave.”

He entered the hospital, took the elevator to the fourth floor, and entered Reed's office. He walked to the receptionist's desk.

“David Lowell to see Dr. Reed.”

“He's expecting you. Go right in.”

When Lowell entered the office Reed was sitting behind his desk looking over some x-rays. When he saw Lowell, he stood and extended his hand.

“David, how nice to see you. You're looking well.” He looked at Lowell's slight paunch. “Maybe too well.” He laughed.

They sat.

“Ah, the good life,” said Lowell, patting his belly. “How's Barbara?”

“She's great. She started teaching again at NYU Medical Center and loves it. We're running away for a week to Barbados at the end of September. I can't wait. I haven't had a vacation in two years.”

Lowell smiled knowingly.

“You too?” asked Reed.

Lowell nodded. “Closer to four years, I think.”

“Well, it's time you got away. When Barbara hears that I saw you, she'll have a dozen questions. How's Melinda? Do you get to see much of her?”

“Actually I do, lately. In fact I've hired her to help out on a case. She's doing quite well in her law career and seems to be healthy and happy.”

“You're lucky. If I see my kids twice a year it's a lot. One lives in Boston and the other lives in south Jersey. But they're always busy. Grandkids and all, you know how it is.”

“Not really,” replied Lowell, “but I can imagine.”

Reed nodded understandingly. “Melinda's still single?”

“Yeah, I keep hoping she'll find someone.”

“Well,” said Reed, “I've known her since she was about five. She always was very independent, even as a child. And a bit of a tomboy.”

Lowell smiled at his old friend. “Yes, that's my little girl.”

“Little?” Reed chuckled. “She was taller than you when she was eleven.”

Lowell laughed.

“So,” said the doctor, “tell me, what's this all about?”

Lowell took the pictures from his pocket and handed them to Reed. “Can you tell me what these machines are?”

Reed looked at the pictures for a few moments. “Where did these shots come from?”

“A private hospital in New Jersey. Why?”

“This boy is very sick.”

“I know that. But what's wrong with him? Is it his kidneys?”

“Kidneys? No, this isn't a dialysis machine he's hooked up to.”

“Then what is it?”

He told Lowell.

“That's what I was afraid of,” said the detective.

“Of course, without seeing the patient and his records,” continued Reed, “I can't make a definitive diagnosis. But I'm pretty sure. How old is he?”

“Fourteen.”

“How sad. Do you know if there's a donor?”

A chill went through Lowell. “Yes, I believe there is. Can you tell me what the risks are?”

“With any transplant most of the problems have to do with the body rejecting the new organ.”

“So I've been told. Who would be most compatible?”

“Family members are the best, although with any transplant, the recipient would still need to take immune suppressant drugs, probably for the rest of his or her life.”

Lowell nodded. “How about an identical twin?”

Dr. Reed stroked his chin and smiled. “That would be a surgeon's dream come true. The DNA of the two is identical and the body wouldn't reject the new organ. Most likely the patient wouldn't even need the drugs.”

“And if one of the twins had a rare blood type?”

“The other would have the same blood type. There shouldn't be any discrepancy at all.”

Lowell sat quietly for a moment. He glanced at the many degrees and various framed awards and other accolades that adorned the office walls. His old friend was one of the most highly acclaimed surgeons in America. Lowell had gotten the confirmation he'd expected, which complicated things greatly.

Dr. Reed sat patiently for a few moments. Finally he spoke. “Is this your client?”

“More or less,” said the detective. “It's one of the parents.”

The doctor nodded knowingly. “It seems to me that you've got a difficult road ahead of you.”

Lowell stood. “Goes with the territory.”

“Yes,” said Reed. “In a way our jobs aren't that different. People only come to us when they're in trouble.”

Reed got up and walked Lowell to the door. “Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you.”

“Thank you, Martin, you've been invaluable. Please give my regards to Barbara and the boys.”