P. Parrish - An Unquiet Grave

Bloom introduced himself, flashed a badge Dr. Seraphin did not look at, and started speaking slowly, first telling her about Ives, the latest victim whose name was still unknown, and the cemetery tunnel, then adding a few words about Louis’s being trapped in it.

“I had forgotten about that tunnel,” she said softly. “How long were you trapped, Mr. Kincaid?”

“Over twelve hours.”

Seraphin showed no expression. “How terrible for you.”

“Yeah.”

Bloom moved forward. “Doctor, I need to ask you a few questions about Buddy Ives.”

“I’m afraid that’s confidential.”

“Well, now,” Bloom said, “if what Kincaid told me about you visiting E Building is true, I don’t see how you can hide behind confidentiality now.”

Her gaze finally swung to Bloom. “What do you mean?”

“Kincaid tells me you two went through the patient files last week and you picked him out four suspects, Doctor. Ives included.”

“That’s absurd.”

“What?” Louis said.

Bloom threw a hand toward Louis, then gathered a breath. “How about we ask your bodyguard, Doctor?”

“My what?” Dr. Seraphin asked.

“That big fellow that answered the door.”

“Oliver is my driver and personal assistant. Nothing more.”

“How about we ask anyway?”

Dr. Seraphin set her glass down and walked to the door, calling softly for Oliver. He was there in a second, his bulk filling the frame, his beefy face expressionless.

“Oliver,” Bloom said, “did you and Dr. Seraphin visit Hidden Lake last week?”

“No.”

“Anytime in the last month?”

“No.”

“Anytime in the last year?”

“I have never been to Hidden Lake Hospital,” Oliver said.

Louis lowered his head, working hard at staying level. He should have expected this. Seraphin would never have made that visit without first making sure she could deny it later.

“Tell me, Oliver,” Bloom said. “What’s your job here?”

“I am a driver and an assistant.”

Louis watched Bloom, worried he was buying all of this crap. Damn it. He had to figure out a way to get to Seraphin. Make her admit something.

“Why would I need a bodyguard?” Seraphin asked.

“Kincaid thinks Buddy Ives is after you,” Bloom said, “that you’re the ultimate victim, so to speak.”

She was unfazed. “Why would this patient want to hurt me?”

“Because of the rapes,” Louis said.

Her face gave a little, her upper lip moving with a tiny tremor, but Louis knew Bloom hadn’t seen it. His head was down to his notebook.

“Rapes?” Dr. Seraphin asked.

“Ives raped at will for over two decades,” Louis said. “While he was in your hospital, while he was under your control, while his victims were in isolation.”

Bloom quickly stepped in. “Kincaid, let me handle this.”

Seraphin’s eyes shifted to Louis. “Detective, have you had Mr. Kincaid examined since his experience in the tunnel?”

Louis moved forward and Bloom caught his arm, holding tight. “Hang on there, Kincaid.”

Bloom looked to Seraphin. “How about we just get a statement from you on this rape thing, Doctor? Just for the record?”

“This is abominable,” she said. “If Ives managed to hurt anyone while he was institutionalized, I had no knowledge of it.”

“He raped Millie Reuben,” Louis said.

“Who is she?”

“A former patient. I talked to her. She remembers ever ything.”

“I’m sure she does,” Seraphin said. “In her own way.”

Louis felt everything starting to slip from under him; Seraphin was studying him; then she shook her head, pulling gently on the sleeve of her sweater.

“Detective Bloom, you’re wasting my time and yours and you’re only furthering Mr. Kincaid’s trauma by letting him pursue these ridiculous thoughts,” she said.

“Trauma?” Louis said.

“Yes,” she said. “You’re not a stupid man, Mr. Kincaid.

You have training. You know what fear and isolation do to the mind. Certainly you recognize you’re irrational right now.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Louis said.

She looked at Bloom, a sad smile on her lips. Bloom closed his small notebook. “I do have one more question, Doctor. How could you release a man like Ives?”

“I was not at Hidden Lake when he was released,” Seraphin said. “And even if I had been, there was probably little else I could have done.”

Bloom looked at Seraphin, tapping his notebook on his hand. Then he turned to Louis. “Come on, Kincaid.”

“No,” Louis said. He faced Seraphin. “I can prove you were there in E Building. I can find someone who saw you. Your fingerprints will be on the files. And when we find Ives, he’ll tell us what you did inside that place.”

“I hope you do catch him.”

“Kincaid. Let’s go now,” Bloom said.

Louis stared at Seraphin. Bloom pulled at his arm, but Louis shrugged it off.

“You need to deal with what happened to you,” Seraphin said. “I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” Louis said.

Louis turned away from her and pushed past Bloom. He heard Bloom say something to her, but he wasn’t sure what it was and didn’t care.

He was standing outside in the driveway, trying to sort his thoughts, when Bloom came out the door.

“She’s lying, Detective,” Louis said.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Bloom said. “But if she did allow Ives to rape whoever he wanted when he wanted, why would he hate her so much?”

Louis glanced back at the house, then at the ground, a jab of panic working its way through his chest. Suddenly it felt as if his whole body were shutting down, that even the simplest thought-like the way home-was hard to bring into focus.

“I don’t know,” Louis said.

He felt as if he were back in the tunnels staring at a cinder-block wall. Dead-ended. Blocked. Nowhere to go. And with this small echo of a voice in his head whispering that maybe he was seeing things that weren’t really there.

The farmland was a blur. After Bloom had dropped him off, he had picked up the Impala and just started driving, heading out into the cornfields away from Adrian.

He realized suddenly he was speeding and eased off the pedal.

He wasn’t crazy. Angry, and fighting to stay awake, but not crazy. Something bad had been going on at Hidden Lake and Seraphin was behind it. But no one believed him and he had no proof. Millie Reuben’s word wasn’t going to convince Bloom. But who else was there who knew the truth?

The wind was gusting hard, sending dervishes of snow spinning across the road. The Impala fishtailed and Louis hit the brake. The car skidded to a stop on the empty road. Nothing around him but beaten-down cornstalks and just beyond a barbed-wire fence, the remnants of a listing gray-plank barn.

Louis sat there, hands gripping the wheel. An old windmill groaned in the wind.

Who else knew the truth?

Rodney.

He had been to see Claudia regularly. That much he could prove with the visitors’ log. Rodney might have seen something, remembered something she did. Or the way she looked. Might have seen her pregnant.

There was a tractor path just ahead. Louis pulled the car into it, turned around, and headed back the way he had come. At least he had a plan now-detour back to Plymouth to pick up Claudia’s file and then go to Grosse Pointe.

Frances’s car wasn’t in the drive when he pulled up to the house. Louis was glad; he didn’t really want to face Phillip right now. Inside, he didn’t even stop to take off his coat. He found Claudia’s file in his room and was starting back downstairs when he heard the door. He hesitated, then went down.