Janet Evanovich - Notorious Nineteen

“A lot you know. I’m doing research.”

I sat in the chair opposite him. “Tell me about Geoffrey Cubbin. How’d he get out of the hospital?”

“You’re trespassing in my office.”

“If you don’t talk to me I’m sending Grandma back here.”

Briggs closed his eyes and groaned. “Don’t do that.” He opened his eyes and looked at me. “I’ve got a good job here. I don’t want to lose it. Give me a break.”

“Aren’t you curious about Cubbin?”

“No.”

I looked past Briggs to his bulletin board. The two missing-patient pictures were still posted there.

“Who’s the other missing patient?” I asked.

He turned and looked at the picture. “Floyd Dugan. He was a boxer. Trained out of the gym on Stark Street. He got caught with a pound of heroin in his car. He said it was planted. I’m surprised you don’t recognize him.”

“Why was he here?”

“Hernia operation. I inherited a file on him.”

“Can I see it?”

“No,” Briggs said.

“I’ll scream rape and tell everyone you grabbed my boob.”

“That’s ridiculous. I can’t even reach your boob.” He jumped off his booster seat and went to the file cabinet behind his desk. “In the past three years this hospital has had four people go AWOL in the middle of the night. No one seems to think that’s unusual. Turns out people don’t like being here.” He pulled four files and handed them over to me. “Read them fast. They’re supposed to be confidential.”

I flipped through Geoffrey Cubbin and Floyd Dugan. Both men had been accused of crimes and released on a bail bond. They got sick while they were bonded out, went to the hospital, and were never seen again. Didn’t show up for court. Never returned home, made any credit card charges, or withdrew money from a bank account. Craig Fish was their surgeon.

The third guy was a homeless man who was hit by a car, kept overnight for observation, and disappeared before day-break.

Willie Hernandez disappeared hours after having a kidney stone removed. He’d been arrested for domestic violence and was awaiting trial. And he was in the country illegally. Craig Fish was the surgeon.

“They all had a reason to disappear,” I said. “And three out of the four were operated on by Dr. Fish.”

“You’ve heard of lawyers chasing ambulances? He’s the medical equivalent. Behind his back they call him ‘Dr. Stalk’ and ‘Slash.’ And it’s rumored he isn’t above removing a healthy appendix if business is slow.”

“I met him. He seemed nice.”

“Who said he wasn’t nice? Everyone loves him. He’s just a little aggressive about acquiring patients.”

I gave the files back to Briggs. “Thanks for letting me see these. They’re all open cases, right?”

“Right.”

“And no one ever figured out how the patients left the hospital?”

“No. I don’t think anyone cares a lot. They’re gone. End of story.”

“It’s weird.”

“It could be ingenious. Someone’s in the hospital, and he’s in trouble. He wants to disappear. And some sympathetic nurse or orderly is happy to make it happen for a price.”

“What about the homeless guy?”

“I don’t know about the homeless guy. He doesn’t fit my profile.”

“So we might have a theory on how three out of the four got help disappearing, but that doesn’t explain why none of these people got caught on a security camera when they left.”

“I looked at the tapes. I even looked to see if Cubbin could have been disguised as a nurse, but I didn’t see anything.”

“Did you look at any of the other tapes?”

“They aren’t available. The hospital only keeps the tapes for six months.”

I stood and turned to go. “Thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it. And I mean don’t mention it . I’ll swear on a Bible I never showed you the files. In fact, I never even talked to you. You weren’t here.”

“Understood.”

I left Briggs and took the elevator to the fourth floor. I walked past the nurses’ station and slowly made my way down the hall, glancing into the rooms. They were standard semi-private hospital rooms. Privacy curtains, a chair for each bed, hospital tray tables. Painted a bilious green and tan. Many of the rooms had only one patient.

“This must be a slow time of the year for you,” I said to an aide. “A lot of the rooms are only half full.”

“This is the surgery floor, and most people get sent home same day or next day. It’s too expensive to stay longer. Years ago when the hospital was built people stayed a week or two after surgery.”

“Were you here when Geoffrey Cubbin disappeared? I read about it in the paper. I guess he decided to leave early.”

“He was gone when I came in that morning. Everyone was scratching their head wondering where he could be. No one saw him leave. I guess he didn’t want to stand trial.”

“Did he have a roomie when he was here?”

She thought for a moment. “No.”

I traveled the length of the hall, retraced my steps, and went back to the nurses’ station. “Is this the only elevator?” I asked the aide.

“There’s a service elevator, but it’s not available to visitors,” she said.

I went back to Randy Briggs.

“Jeez,” he said. “I thought you left.”

“I have another question. Is it possible Cubbin left via the service elevator?”

“No. I would have seen him from the hall video. It has a clear shot of the service elevator.”

“Damn.”

“Tell me about it. I’m on the job for two months and some idiot disappears. Lucky for me no one seems to care. Except for you. You’re a real pain in the ass.”

I gave him the finger.

“Nice,” he said. “Very classy.”

I left the hospital and drove back to the office.

“I want to talk to Cubbin’s night nurse,” I told Connie. “Her name is Norma Kruger. Can you get me some information on her?”

Connie typed the name into one of her search programs and the information started to pour in. She hit PRINT and in thirty seconds I had a two-page bio.

“Divorced, no children, thirty-four years old, owns a condo in a building not far from the hospital. Everything else is blah, blah, blah. No litigation or derogatory comments. I don’t see a mortgage or car loan.”

“Looks like she pays cash,” Connie said.

“How does she do that on a nurse’s salary?”

Connie shrugged. “Good divorce settlement?”

“And there’s talk she does some recreational substance abuse.”

“She might have something going on the side,” Connie said. “Maybe she gives a really good sponge bath, and she gets tips.”

“Maybe the sponge baths are so good Cubbin followed her home and never left.”

“That would be convenient.” Connie squinted in the direction of the large plate glass window at the front of the office. “I think someone’s trying to break into your car.”

I swiveled my head and followed Connie’s line of vision. Sure enough, Brody Logan was at work with a crowbar.

“It’s Logan,” I said, on the move. “He wants Tiki.”

I burst out the door, swung my messenger bag, and caught Logan on the side of the head. The crowbar flew out of his hand, and he staggered sideways. I lunged for him, but he jumped away and took off. I didn’t bother chasing him. I knew I couldn’t catch him.

“He’s fast,” Connie said. “Next time you need to zap him.”

Connie went back into the office, and I looked the car door over for crowbar damage.

Ranger parked behind me and walked over. “What’s going on?”

“Someone tried to break into the Buick.”

“The Buick is enchanted,” Ranger said. “It’s impervious to damage and breaking and entering. Why would someone want to steal it?”