One way or another, his last thought was,
it was over …
He really hoped he’d wasted him.
Chapter 28
JULY 13
The antiseptic smell of a hospital was not her favorite thing on this planet, and the sitting area outside intensive care reminded Ellie of waiting for news after her father’s heart attack, and that had not turned out well.
She hoped this would be different.
Metzger, uncharacteristically rumpled, muttered something under his breath and took another drink of coffee from a Styrofoam cup as he sat down. Out loud, he said, “This is going to go viral. I currently have my phone turned off. Maybe you and Carl need to go over this again for me. I know I’ll get reports
this afternoon,
” he said pointedly, “but for now, let’s make sure I understand it as much as possible.”
“Sir—”
He held up his hand and Ellie closed her mouth.
“Let’s see. Our very own medical examiner, the one actually performing the autopsies, was systematically seeking out anyone associated with his former life and killing them? Do I have that right so far?”
Ellie exchanged a brief look with Grasso. “We haven’t confirmed it all yet, but we think he took the bodies to places where he once lived when he was in the foster care system. Unfortunately for us, he was smart enough to not necessarily place the victim in the same place where
they
once lived, but just where
he
once lived before he set their bodies, and the building, on fire. It made it difficult to connect the dots, because
he
really was the only connection.”
“Purification by fire, so to speak.” Carl Grasso, wearing a faded Harvard T-shirt and worn jeans, sent the chief a level look. “When he was a kid, his parents died in a house fire on the property where Santiago and MacIntosh found him. We’ve gotten confirmation that when he was sixteen he was finally adopted by two college professors who were impressed with his intellect, I guess, and had never been able to have children of their own, so they took in foster kids. He changed his name to Reubens and the old Randy McNeely went away.”
It was Metzger’s turn to gift Ellie with his particular steely stare. “The events of last night are a little muddy to me, probably because I am sleep deprived beyond belief due to one of my detectives being shot last night and a series of particularly heinous murders committed by someone in the employ of this city. How did you know he was going to be there, and if you did, I think a team would have been a better decision, don’t you, Detective?”
“We had no idea he was there, sir.” Ellie could say that honestly to the implied criticism because she knew she’d be raked across the proverbial coals for that fact and was prepared to at least defend what happened. “Santiago was convinced that the old farm might have a connection to the murders. You told me yourself he was an intuitive cop. It just happened. We only went there to check it out.”
Not quite. That was too simple. Reubens—she still thought of him that way—must have known they were figuring it all out, and she still believed that Lucy Hamilton was in danger, so if he had heard, and he would have been working closely with the police department, that they were watching her house, he would just relocate and the farm made sense, especially if the initial killings were being done there.
Metzger rubbed a hand over his face. He actually did look exhausted. “Okay, so you arrived, saw there was smoke, realized there was a fire, and still didn’t call for backup?”
“You’ve been in the office for far too long, Chief,” Grasso said with a hint of wry amusement in his voice. “They called when they saw the body. It’s an old abandoned farm owned by an almost-as-old farmer. He could have been burning anything. Moldy hay, his trash, come on. Both Santiago and MacIntosh are experienced enough to wait to make sure there actually is a crime being committed before screaming for help. Sometimes things go down so fast you don’t have the time. They handled it.”
Then and there, Ellie started to like Carl Grasso despite her earlier distrust.
“Handled it? Santiago got himself there.” The chief pointed at the closed doors to the intensive care unit.
Was that her fault?
It had occurred to her that maybe they should have stayed together, but in retrospect some things were crystal clear, and it really could be this was one of those times. “We had a dead body but no idea where the suspect might be. I called for assistance and he went to look.”
If the doctor hadn’t come out at that moment, she wasn’t sure whether or not Metzger might have pointed out acerbically that procedure wasn’t followed precisely, but a weary young man in scrubs came out of the doors, chart in hand, and said, “The family of Jason Santiago?”
Ellie stood. “I’m his”—she searched for the right word—“partner.”
“MacIntosh?”
“Right.”
“He’s asking for you. You have ten minutes.”
* * *
Well, he’d made
it anyway.
Floating out somewhere around Mars, but hey, that wasn’t so bad. Painful breathing was a good substitute for the alternative.
Ellie sat down in a chair next to his bed. She looked tired and at some point had pulled her hair back into a no-nonsense ponytail. “Hi.”
Without preamble, he asked in a raspy voice, “Did I get him? They won’t say anything except to ask if I need another drink of water. I could use a beer, by the way, if you have influence. The nurses seem kind of standoffish.”
At least that wrung a laugh out of her. “Your charming attitude needs work.”
“I saved your ass.”
“Ah, you see? Charm in abundance.”
“You might have saved mine too.” He adjusted his position in bed and tried to leer, but probably failed. “You took off your shirt. I vaguely remember that.”
He didn’t remember anything very clearly at all. He’d been losing it, the world blurry around the edges, the sound of that old dry barn crackling as it started to really catch fire, and there was MacIntosh trying to drag him away from the building, her face pale even in the lurid light, and then she was bent over him, ripping her shirt off over her head, asking him to hold on, just hold on …
“You were bleeding to death,” she said with equanimity. “That’s why I took off my shirt. To staunch the blood flow. I was wearing a bra. You’ve been to the beach. No different.”
“A little different. I suspect you’ve got a nice set of—”
“Santiago.” Her voice was full of exasperation.
“Hey, I noticed. Proved to me I was still alive.”
“You got him,” she interrupted, her face somber. “A round just under the first rib and another just missed the heart but got his lung. In such rapid succession, the deputies who arrived eventually were impressed.”
If he wasn’t so tired, he’d lift his arm and offer a high-five, but he didn’t really think she did that sort of thing, and frankly, there were too many tubes attached to him in various places. “I could see him. You couldn’t from your position.”
“No, I couldn’t,” she agreed, her hazel eyes holding his gaze.
One of the machines he was attached to beeped and he ignored it, because he didn’t know what the hell the thing was measuring anyway.
He got him.
To be truthful, it helped with the pain of his own wounds, because Reubens had
definitely
shot him.
“I owed him one. Or two, I guess.”
“I think you’re more than even.”
“I take it that means he didn’t make it.”
“The paramedics worked hard. I’m afraid he’s about three doors down on this same floor.”
“Still alive? Fuck, I can’t tell you how that breaks my heart.” He shut his eyes briefly and pushed the little magic button that helped the pain. The relief wasn’t quite as instant as he would have liked, but it kept it bearable anyway.
“No shit? You have a heart?” Ellie grinned at him.
“I told you I was rubbing off on you, and you know what, apparently you’re rubbing off on me too. I think we’ve both now shot suspected serial killers during apprehension.”
“I suppose that’s true. At least I killed mine.”
“You win.” He was having trouble concentrating on the conversation, some of it no doubt due to the pain meds.
“Let’s call it a draw and discontinue the competition.”
“Ever been shot?”
“Yes. Thigh.”
“That’s something I’d like to see. We’ll compare scars later.”
A nurse came in, said something he didn’t quite catch, and Ellie nodded and stood.
She was leaving. That was okay, he was leaving too in a different way, fading out.
But he actually felt good.
He’d got him.
* * *
Considering everything,
Carl
thought that MacIntosh was holding up pretty well. Professional, calm, maybe a little ragged around the edges, but as far as he could tell she’d been up all night as they operated on both their suspect and her partner, and at the end of the day, they had The Burner.
She stood next to him and waited, as did he, as the doctor jotted notes and spoke quietly to a nurse at the station, and then he came over. “I understand you want to talk to my patient.”
“If that’s possible.” MacIntosh held out her badge. “I have no doubt you understand why.”
“He’s lucid.” The doctor flipped the chart shut. “But only in fair condition, though that is a miracle. The surgery went fairly well but there was a lot of damage and I won’t bore you with the medical terminology, but he got lucky.”
“His victims can’t say the same. We need him to answer a few questions. This won’t be an interrogation, but please understand, we both know Dr. Reubens fairly well, or we thought we did anyway. We’ll keep it brief.”
The doctor took a moment. “I’ll ask him, how is that? If he refuses, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait. He’s a physician. He can gauge his ability to endure an interview.”
A few minutes later Carl followed MacIntosh into a sterile room he preferred to never be one he occupied. Dr. Reubens was attached to so many machines he would feel sorry for him except he was not really deserving of sympathy of any kind.
Pallid and unmoving, he regarded them with a steady gaze. “Detectives.”
It was MacIntosh’s case in essence, so Carl let her speak first. “What set this off? Why now? Cameron was five years ago.”
The sound that came out of his mouth might have been a laugh, but it was so weak it was hard to tell. “Do you really expect me to incriminate myself?”
“As I see it, you have no latitude at all. Metzger is going to push this to consecutive life sentences when he goes to the district attorney, and if you think we won’t have enough evidence to convict, I think you know that is unlikely. You’re screwed.”
“You have been spending entirely too much time with Santiago.”
“Thanks to you.” Carl said persuasively, “Come on, answer her question. We can prove the crimes, we just don’t understand
why
.”
“You never will, because I am not sure myself, but … Matthew Tobias.” Reubens adjusted his position slightly and a strained look of pain crossed his face. “At one time, we were both in the system, shuffled around like a deck of cards, dealt a hand that might be good, and one that might make you fold and wish your life was over. We ran into each other one day … a chance meeting and he recognized me. We’d both been with the Camerons at the same time, so we’d gone to the same school, ridden the bus … put up with that abusive, sanctimonious man. It was hell.”
“And?”
“I’d made the mistake of telling Matthew that one day I planned to kill him.” For a moment Reubens let his eyes close. “It didn’t matter at the time, though I meant it. However, when Matthew realized I was in Milwaukee after my residency and fellowship were done, and that Cameron really had been murdered, he started to blackmail me. All he wanted was prescriptions for pain medications, which I am licensed to write. I’d told him back when we were friends a few things I regret. I set his home on fire with a clear message. It seems he understood. I got to do his autopsy. How ironic is that?”
Very. Carl understood irony fully. He asked, “Then why kill the others? Were they like Cameron?”
“No. Some were better than others, of course. I don’t know if you can understand this, but I wanted to get rid of Randy McNeely. Tobias reminded me that he still existed in other people’s minds … that someone might remember him, when I was doing my best to forget him. I had.”
Not entirely,
Carl thought.
A nurse came into the room and looked pointedly at a clock on the wall. “I’m sorry, but the doctor put a time limit on this visit.”
“Why did you dismember one of them and not the others?”
“I’m adaptive. She was a little too heavy for me to carry all in one piece.”
Carl wasn’t squeamish, he’d gotten over that a long time ago, but the pragmatic explanation and lack of remorse was disturbing to a level he hadn’t experienced before.
“I’m sorry, but—” the nurse started to say again.
Ellie nodded, looking more tired than ever, and interrupted. “We’re done.” She walked out of the room, following the young woman.
“Carl.”
He stopped, turning back. He had to admit Reubens looked like hell, but his eyes were still alive and intelligent.
“What?”
“You’ve killed before.”
Good God. “Not quite the same thing.”
“Doesn’t matter. Dead is dead and self-defense is an abstract concept that has a multitude of interpretations. I have something to ask of you.”
“Like what?” He stared at the man on the bed.
“I know hospitals in and out. I killed Cameron the year I graduated from medical school and spent three years in residency out of state, and then had a fellowship for two. There, I just gave you the reason for the five-year gap. Could you get something for me? I can tell you exactly where it is.”
Epilogue
Ellie took a breath and decided that life was too short to ignore the crucial issues. Breakfast, coffee, Santiago doing well, or so she was told, Reubens in custody …