William Bernhardt - Capitol Offense

Hospital greens would do. They were a common sight here, plus he could just pull them over his clothes. He could pass as an OR intern or some similar no-education-required employee. But where would he find the greens?

He opened the door just a crack and checked the hallway. Coast was clear. He slipped out and read the signs on the doors as furiously as possible. There had to be a lounge or sitting room where staff waited for their calls…

He found the locker room quickly, before Shaw reappeared in the corridor. Just inside, a big linen laundry basket on wheels held lots of dirties. Where were the clean clothes?

He supposed that given his circumstances, he couldn’t afford to be choosy. He rooted around in the basket, searching for something that would fit his large frame, preferably not too soaked with blood or flesh or any other surgical remnants. After that, he found a stack of masks on a shelf. Obscuring his face would be a good idea, too.

A minute later he was back out in the hallway. He didn’t kid himself that this getup would prevent Shaw from recognizing him if he got a good look. But it might shield him from a distant casual glance.

Slowly he made his way down the corridor to where he had last seen Shaw. He had no trouble locating him. He was visible in the window of a closed office door. He was talking to someone else, a man in a white coat. A doctor, unless Loving was mistaken. The conversation seemed uncomfortable. Shaw appeared agitated. His volume was increasing.

Loving retrieved a mop from the closet where he had hidden a few minutes before. He stood just outside the office door, pretending to wipe up a nonexistent mess, straining his ears to hear what was being said inside.

Once he was close, the conversation came through with surprising clarity.

“I’m telling you, the deal is off,” Shaw said. “It’s too risky.”

“Just one more time. That’s all I’m asking,” the doctor replied.

“No way.”

“Chris would’ve done it.”

“Yeah, and look how he ended up.”

“That’s not fair and we both know it. He…” Loving couldn’t hear the last part of the sentence. He scooted in closer. People were passing by him in the corridor, but so far no one was taking notice. Still, he knew that condition would not last forever.

“I’m in charge now, and I say no way.”

“You’re being unreasonable,” the doctor replied.

“I’m being smart. You weren’t the one up on that witness stand.”

“What are you complaining about? It went fine.”

“Did you hear that chump lawyer quizzing me? He got close, Gary. Dangerous close.”

“He got nothing. And now it’s over.”

“It ain’t over, not yet. And I think we should lay low till it is.”

“That’s not possible. It’s all been arranged. I’ll have a truck ready at the back loading dock. It will only take a few minutes. I’ll take care of everything inside. You take care of everything outside.”

“You’re not listening to me. I don’t want any part of this.”

“You’re already a part of it. And if something happens to me, you’re going down, too. So maybe you better show up just to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“You call it what you will. I want you here.”

“I’m not coming.”

“Who should I get, then? Your assistant? Maybe I should call Torres. He usually fills in when you guys screw up, right?”

“Don’t go anywhere near Torres!”

“Fine. Do this one more job for me, Shaw. Just one. Then you’ll be fixed to do anything you want. Give me your cell phone number. I’ll text you the details as soon as I know when and where.”

Shaw recited his number. “The money won’t help me if I’m not alive.”

“You will be. And then you can quit this crappy police work. Take care of your sister. Take early retirement. Take it in the Cayman Islands. The world will be at your doorstep.”

“It’s too risky!”

“Nothing good comes easy, my friend. So just ask yourself. Do you want to spend the rest of your life barely scraping by, handing out traffic tickets and chasing drug dealers? Or would you rather be sitting on the beach drinking booze out of a pineapple? Your choice.”

“Excuse me. Can I help you?”

Loving looked up abruptly. Someone was talking to him.

“I don’t recognize you.” It was the floor nurse, who according to her name tag was Ernestine Tubbs. “Are you assigned to this wing?”

“Uh, no. Not normally.” It seemed like the smart answer. “I’m supposed to see the doctor.” He pointed through the door. “He’s, um, busy.”

“I’ll go in and get him.”

“No, no. Don’t do that.” Loving held her back. “He’s, um, havin’ a conversation. It’s pretty intense.”

Tubbs glanced through the window, saw Shaw, frowned. “I’m not surprised.”

“I’ll just wait,” Loving said, grinning. “I don’t mind. Beats scrubbin’ down the operatin’ theater.”

“We can’t have you just standing around. Who sent you?”

Loving licked his lips. “Um, who sent me?”

“Yes. Who sent you to see the doctor?”

“Um… he did.”

Tubbs blinked. “The doctor sent you to see the doctor?”

“Uh… yeah. He called for me. I came right down, but as you can see, he’s tied up. Doctors. Always think the world revolves around them.”

“Well, I’m not afraid of him. I’ll go in-”

Loving grabbed her. The mop clattered to the floor. “Please don’t.”

“I insist.”

“I really don’t want you-”

“What on earth is going on out here?”

Loving slowly pivoted. The doctor stood in the doorway behind him. The first thing Loving noticed was that he looked extremely irritated.

The second thing he noticed was the name tag on his white coat identifying him as Dr. Sentz.

Dennis’s therapist, Daniel Estevez, M.D., Ph.D., was not a man Ben would normally choose for his most important expert. He was too young, for one thing. Medical testimony usually went down better when it descended from a lot of gray hair. He also had a disturbing tendency to avoid medical and psychiatric jargon. Usually, Ben had to coach people the other way. He had to get them to simplify what they were saying so a jury could readily understand it. Estevez was largely babble-free. This made him more readily comprehensible, but Ben worried that it might also rob him of that sense of intellectual superiority that made so many medical witnesses almost unassailable.

Ben could have sought a different witness, but in the end he thought he was better off with a witness who actually knew the defendant than with one who had been hired to get to know him after the fact.

After Ben established the man’s credentials, he began the main testimony.

“When did you begin seeing Dennis?”

“Almost two years ago.”

“Why were you seeing him?”

“Dennis was suffering some anxiety. Mostly work-related. There were a few other stressors. Nothing uncommon.”

“How was the therapy going?”

“Well. He was sleeping better, being more productive at work.”

“Was he on any medications?”

“Eventually. I prefer not to start prescribing drugs until I can reliably diagnose if there’s a serious and immediate need. Initially I felt we could deal with Dennis’s problems without medication, and that of course is more desirable. Later, I prescribed a mild anti-anxiety drug.”

“Did his mental state change during the period of time you were treating him?”

“Yes.”

“And when would that be?”

“After the loss of his wife. Wait-let me change that. After his wife disappeared. I didn’t see him during the time she was trapped in that car, but I did talk to him twice on the phone, and I could tell I was speaking to a very different Dennis.”