David Baldacci - The Last Mile

“Okay, it was the right premolar.”

They studied the X-rays.

“I don’t see anything on Lucinda’s X-ray,” said Bogart. “But Roy’s number four has a filling.”

Decker looked at it. “You’re right.”

“So was Fisher saying that Roy Mars didn’t have a filling in number four? That’s why something was wrong? But if so, why wouldn’t he have pointed that out back then?”

Decker picked up his phone again, called Fisher’s office, and a minute later was talking to the dentist.

“Your grandfather was very helpful,” he said. “But I have a question for you.”

“Okay, shoot,” said Fisher.

“Tell me the procedure for when the police want to get copies of your records.”

“They send in a court order and we answer it.”

“How so? Do you personally pull the records?”

“Not always. But if not me then someone on my staff does.”

“Who checks for accuracy?”

“Well, all of our files are carefully organized, cross-checked, and labeled seven ways from Sunday. We also have electronic copies of everything. Nature of a medical practice these days. No room for error.”

“But twenty years ago?”

“Well, it was different. My grandfather still kept excellent records. But they were stored manually and labeled with the patient’s information. Name, address, Social Security number, and individual patient file number.”

“Do you have anyone on your staff who worked with your grandfather twenty years ago?”

“Yes, Melissa Dowd.”

“Can I speak to her?”

“Where is all this going?”

“Please, time is of the essence.”

“Hold on while I get her.”

A minute later a woman answered the phone. “This is Melissa.”

“Melissa, Amos Decker with the FBI. I was wondering about your filing system twenty years ago.”

“Yes, Dr. Fisher told me. Well, lots of practices had transitioned to some sort of computer system by then, but Fisher Sr. was old school, so our operation was still manual. We used a typewriter. Labels were made up for all patient files. It was all very organized. We never made any mistakes with recordkeeping.”

“Do you remember getting the court order to turn over the Marses’ records?”

“I didn’t personally pull those files, but I do remember the request. We’d never had such a request before, for a murder anyway.”

“Did someone have to authenticate the records during the trial?”

“Yes. I was the one who did that, because I was the one who really maintained the records.”

“So Dr. Fisher wasn’t involved in that?”

“No, he was very busy and couldn’t take time off to come to the trial. It was the only time I was called on to do that. It was kind of exciting.”

“Did Dr. Fisher ever mention to you that there might be something wrong with the records?”

“No, not that I recall. Was there something wrong?” she asked anxiously.

Decker ignored this question and said, “Do you remember who cleaned your office building back then?”

“Cleaned our office building?”

“Yes.”

“Um, well, it’s the same firm that does it now. Quality Commercial Cleaners. They do all the offices here.”

“And so they had keys to your office?”

“Well, yes, that’s normal practice, but we’ve never had any problems.”

“Thanks.”

Decker clicked off and looked at Bogart.

The FBI agent was studying him. “Is this going where I think it’s going?”

“I don’t think Roy Mars died in the bedroom that night. I think a nurse or technician pulled those records and sent them to the police and then Dowd authenticated them at trial. But she would just be looking at the names and other file criteria in order to do that. Maybe sometime later, maybe a lot later, Fisher Sr. looked at the records and saw a filling in the number four premolar where he hadn’t put one.”

“Well, we can’t assume it wasn’t the other way around. It might be he was referring to Lucinda’s records. She didn’t have a filling, but maybe Fisher had put one in there.”

“Agreed. And why he didn’t come forward then I don’t know. Maybe he was starting to feel the effects of the dementia by then.” He sighed and added, “Well, this opens up a lot of questions.”

Bogart nodded. “Well, the big one for me is, if it wasn’t Roy’s or Lucinda’s body, whose was it?”

How are you going to break this news to Melvin?” asked Bogart. They were driving back to the motel from the warehouse.

“It’s not a fact, it’s a theory. I have no proof.”

“But it’s a pretty good theory based on some facts,” replied Bogart.

“If we assume it was Roy Mars that faked his death, that would explain the shotgun to the face. And the bodies being burned. Dental records would be the first way to ID the bodies. The teeth were relatively intact.”

“But he would have had to get into the dentist’s office and swap out the records with those of the body that was discovered.”

“Lucinda worked for a cleaning company in the area. I’m betting it was Quality Commercial Cleaners. That would have given her and Roy access to the dentist’s office after hours.”

“Wait a minute, do you think the other body was Lucinda’s?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. If Roy is alive and he killed the two people that were found, I have a hard time believing he would have shotgunned his wife in the face and then set her on fire.”

“And set up his son for the crime? Because that’s a big part of this too.”

“And maybe the most inexplicable.”

“But I keep coming back to the two people. It’s a small town. How could two people just disappear and no one know?”

Decker said, “They could have been drifters, not from here. But—” He stopped and closed his eyes. The frames in his head whirred back and forth as he searched for the precise statements he’d been given by the police and Melissa Dowd.

There were two of them.

Burglary, missing person, drunks getting in fights , was the first.

We’d never had such a request before, for a murder anyway , was the second.

He took out his phone and punched in a number. A minute later he had Melissa Dowd on the line again. She sounded a little put out at being called away from her work again, but Decker brushed right past the annoyed tone in her voice. He had put the phone on speaker so that Bogart could hear.

Decker said, “When we last spoke you said that you’d never had a court order for dental records for a murder investigation before.”

“That’s right.”

“But the way you said it implied that you had received other court orders.”

“Well, just the one time. It was right before the one for the Marses’ murder, actually, now that I think about it. Sort of odd.”

“Was it for a missing person?”

“That’s right, how did you know that?”

“Educated guess. Can you tell us about it?”

“Well, it was one of our patients, and the police thought they had found his body in the woods, but it had been disfigured by some wild animals. They had learned that we were the man’s dentist and thus asked for the records. But it wasn’t a match. It wasn’t him.”

“And this was before the Marses’ murder, you’re sure?”

“Yes. Just shortly before.”

“Do you remember the man’s name?”

“I do, as a matter of fact. His name was Dan Reardon. To my knowledge they never found him.”

“Do you have any records for him?”

“No. They would have been disposed of by now.”

“Can you describe him. Race, height, weight, anything?”

“Well, he was a big man. Tall, about six-four or so. Over two hundred pounds. Dan was in his fifties back then. Strongly built.”