Chris Oakes’ basement television room was full of people and because of the low ceilings, the noise level was high. I was sitting on the coffee table that had broken my fall and a paramedic was attending to my war wound. I was told I was a lucky person because the bullet from Philip’s gun had only nicked the top of my ear. They were insistent though that I go to the hospital and it was there that I found out that the bullet had taken off a piece of the top of my ear that was the size of my baby fingernail.
Philip Winston was handcuffed to a stretcher with a flesh wound in his shoulder and the paramedics were taking him up the stairs to the ambulance. Oakes had already been taken out, but he had walked. Barely.
The paramedic who was working on me was packing up his large first aid kit that resembled a toolbox.
"Can you walk, or do you want a stretcher?" he grinned at me.
"I think I can walk, thank you very much."
"Well, your ambulance awaits you."
"I’ll go to the hospital, but not in an ambulance. He’ll take me." I nodded my head at Jay who was sitting across from me on the loveseat.
"I’m sorry miss. We have to insist. Your friend can follow in his car. I’ll even sit in the back with you."
"Fine," I agreed rather than fight. Of course I was dizzy when I stood up but a deep breath and a conscious decision not to act weak, gave me strength.
Detective Leech appeared which didn’t surprise me. In fact, I was surprised that it took him so long to get here.
"What took you so long Leech?"
He ignored my jibe. "A few questions Miss Monahan."
My paramedic saved me, for the moment. "Later Detective. This lady’s on her way to the hospital. She’s lost some blood and we understand she took a blow to the head earlier today. So, the questions’ll have to wait." He took me by the elbow and led me away.
"For that, kind sir, I propose marriage," I whispered to him as we made our way up the stairs. "You saved me from the dragon."
He laughed. "At your service."
The street outside of Chris’ house resembled a circus. Red flashing lights from all of the emergency vehicles were lighting up the street and yellow tape cordoned off the area. A television crew were set up behind the line and their bright white lights made the scene look like a large, budget film was being made.
"There she is," I heard someone yell and a surge of bodies pressed forward. My saviour paramedic hustled me up two steps into the back of a waiting ambulance and he quickly pulled both doors closed behind him.
Detective Leech finally had his way with me at the hospital. I was forthcoming with as much information as I had but he had nothing to share with me. The hospital staff kept him at bay and before he was allowed access to me, the doctors and nurses patched me up and x-rayed my head. The doctor had been concerned about the blow to the side of my head because the lump where Philip had hit me with his gun was quite large.
"It’s just a mild concussion," the doctor told me. "Rest is the best cure. As for the ear, the bandages can come off in a couple of days." I was sitting up on the side of a gurney when he gave me the good news.
"A few people outside want to see you," he told me. "But protocol tells me that the Detective gets first crack at you. One person tells me his name is," he paused as he checked a name he had written on my chart, "Jay Harmon. The screaming pack of reporters are being kept outside the hospital but they all want to talk to you. I’m ready to discharge you now but if you want to hide from everyone, we can admit you for observation." I was sure he wouldn’t be offering the hospital for asylum purposes if I didn’t have such good medical insurance coverage, but I thanked him anyway.
"Send in the good Detective," I told him. "And thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll go home tonight." I offered my hand and he returned a firm, but cool handshake. He pulled the curtain closed around my gurney when he left and I rummaged around in the small cart that held my clothes. When I had arrived, the nurses had quickly and efficiently stripped me of my clothes and I made a mental note to call my mother and thank her for always reminding me to wear clean underwear.
My clothes were covered in dried blood and I was loathe to put them back on but it was better than leaving the hospital in a gown that didn’t fasten in the back and was three inches above my knees. I quickly stripped off the gown and was buttoning my blouse when a voice behind the curtain told me that Leech had arrived.
"Just a sec." I dropped my shoes on the floor and manoeuvred my feet into them without bending over. I left the gown on the gurney and pulled open the curtain to find Leech.
"Miss Monahan," he said formally. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine. Where do you want to talk?" I was anxious to get this over with and get home to bed. The large clock on the wall told me it was past three o’clock in the morning.
"Here or at the station."
"Now?"
"A few questions now, and we can finish tomorrow, if you like."
"Here then. Is there somewhere we can sit and I can have a cup of coffee while we talk?"
"I think there’s a lounge on this floor. Follow me."
Jay was sitting in the waiting area and he jumped out of his chair when he saw me approaching but Leech waved him off. "Fifteen minutes, Mr. Harmon. If you’d be good enough to wait, we won’t take long."
We found the lounge and Leech bought us each a coffee from a vending machine that looked like it had been installed before the Second World War. I was dying for a cigarette but there was no way I could light up in a hospital. I didn't have any smokes anyway because my purse, which I’d forgotten about, was still in either my car or Sadie Weinstein’s house. I spied my reflection in a dark window. The entire right side of my head was swathed in white bandages and my blood-soaked clothes looked almost unreal. Like props in a movie.
I sat down carefully in a straight backed chair at a table covered in old magazines. Leech sat across from me and opened his ever-present notebook.
"Please fill me in on events since we spoke on Saturday night after the break-in at your apartment."
Where to start was the hardest part so I decided to take him back a few days before the Saturday night attack. And this time I tried not to leave out any details. I told him about seeing Winston and Cox at the restaurant and Jay’s discovery of the link between Oakes and Everly and Weinstein Textiles. I recounted how Jay and I had met Philip’s mother and discovered that he was using an assumed name. Then I told him about Philip kidnapping me in the parking garage at work and waking up in Sadie’s house.
I showed him my scraped knees which the nurses had disinfected and covered with Sesame Street Band-Aids. Throughout the telling of my story I was calm and almost detached but I had to pause before continuing when I got to the part about what had happened at Chris Oakes’ house. Leech smiled when I described my efforts at sobering up Chris but his expression turned deadly serious when I told him about Philip’s arrival and the subsequent events.
I closed my eyes and told him about looking down the barrel of Philip’s gun and how everything seemed like it was in slow motion. I felt Leech’s hand cover mine and he said softly, "It’s all right now." Embarrassment flushed over my face for having such a hard time getting the story out so I finished off quickly, with my eyes open, and told him about the things that Philip had said and admitted to.
"Good," he told me and he flipped his notebook shut and put it away in his jacket pocket. "Tomorrow, we’ll talk some more. You go home and rest." He was sounding like a Jewish mother and I wondered why I always felt my back go up when he was around. Probably because I never told him the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I had deliberately left many things out in the past when he had questioned me and the guilty feelings had put me on the defensive.
Leech showed me the way back to the Emergency Department and I found Jay slumped in his chair, fast asleep.
"Let me warn you about th
e reporters outside," Leech said before he left. "They’re not allowed in here, but they’ll be outside, in full force. I can’t tell you not to talk to them, but we’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t, until our investigation is over."
I gently woke Jay when Leech finally departed and he told me that he was parked out front, away from the media. I felt like Elizabeth Taylor sneaking out of the Betty Ford Center and we laughed a little as we stayed in the shadows in the parking lot on our way to the car. It was four-thirty when we finally arrived back at my apartment and after five before we got to bed.
"When did you figure out that Philip was in the house?" I finally asked him.
"When I heard Oakes yell, I was just at the top of the stairs with the coffee. I recognized Philip’s voice and froze. I didn’t know what to do." He put his arm protectively around my shoulder. "I should have jumped him. You wouldn’t have gotten shot."
"Maybe not, but you sure as hell would have. He would have shot you as soon as you started down the stairs." My hand touched the bandages on the side of my head. "Besides, this is nothing," I reassured him although my ear was throbbing. "Just an excuse not to cut my hair."
I told Jay about the things that Philip had told me. "So, you were right. He was blackmailing them all along." After a few silent moments he asked the questions that had been nagging me. "But what about all the other pieces of this puzzle? Why is Rick Cox dead? Why is Harold involved? And why did the stock price take such a dive before all of this happened?"
We didn’t have to wait long to find out because by the time we arrived at the station the next day to meet with Detective Leech, he had most of the answers.