Detective Wilson looked up quickly and stared at her. “Five years ago?”
She nodded. “Yes. Why? What did he say? I knew he didn’t really believe me, and I never heard back from him,” she said. “When the medical board and the hospital told me to disappear or get charged with first-degree murder, it was clear to me that they weren’t too interested in listening either,” she said.
“Can you please tell me what happened five years ago?” the detective said. “Just leave the other detective out of it for now and tell me what happened.”
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and quickly went over a shortened version of what she knew. He asked a bunch of questions, and, the whole time, Bullard sat here quietly at her side. She appreciated that.
Detective Wilson sat back when Leia had finished. “I don’t suppose you have any proof, do you?” he asked. She looked at him and then down at the floor. He leaned forward. “Do you?” His voice was hard.
“What I have,” she said, “is a flash drive with a copy of a recorded conversation. I was transcribing a bunch of my medical notes in a small room, and it’s easier with headphones, so when the doctor entered the outer office and was talking on the phone, he didn’t realize I was nearby. In that phone conversation, he said several things. They were alarming, so I recorded it. Don’t quote me on the exact wording. It’s been a long time,” she said. “I’ll just repeat some statements that were made, not necessarily in this order or in these exact words.”
Closing her eyes, she paused a moment, like she was remembering. “Okay, Detective, here goes. He said things like, ‘Make sure that bitch is dead. I don’t want her just gone from the hospital, I want her gone-gone. I would kill her myself if I had the opportunity, but it would look a little too suspicious after her accusations against me. If you want to keep the money flowing, you’ll make sure this happens. I don’t care how far she disappears or where she goes, I want her found. It’s not enough to just ruin her career and get her out of the hospital. She saw me kill him, so what am I supposed to do with that? What if she comes back later and decides that I have to pay for it? … Hell yes, you’ll pay for it too. You’re the one who arranges these deals. If you want the money to keep flowing, you’ll take care of her. And you can tell Claire and Dawn on the board that they need to stop the squawking about their internal investigation. Otherwise I’m likely to come after them too. … Of course they don’t know. I’m their golden boy, and no way in hell I’ll allow Leia to ruin that. We’ve got a good deal going here. Nobody ever suspects the surgeon, and we’re allowed a certain percentage of deaths anyway. I always try to keep my numbers right in the allowable percentage. … It depends on who’s paying the bigger money. I can always get somebody else to make a mistake.’ Okay, that’s it,” she said, sitting back and opening her eyes.
She looked at the detective. “I’m sure there was more, but that’s the gist of what’s on the recording.”
Detective Wilson stared at her in shock. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you give it to anybody?”
“I did,” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “I gave it to that detective,” she said. “So you guys knew the whole time.”
He stared at her, his hand over his mouth for a moment. Then he looked at Bullard, again at her. “I’ve never heard or read anything about this tape. And that detective? He’s dead.”
“What?” she said, instantly going pale, sitting down again.
“Yes. Detective Houtser was in an accident not long after all that blew up. As in it happened at the same time.”
Bullard looked at Leia, then said, “What are the chances that he went and talked to your little doctor, who arranged for him to have an accident?”
“Considering the circumstances, I would say it’s very possible,” she said, with a decisive nod. “You don’t understand. Leo just kills and doesn’t give a shit. It’s like it’s good fun to do it right under everybody’s nose, and he’s getting paid for it too.”
“Sounds like it,” Bullard said. “That very interesting.”
“Agreed,” said Detective Wilson. “But, at the same time, a very strange scenario. I’m gonna need that file.”
“I get it,” she said, “but, in order for you to get a copy,” she said, “I want some guarantees.”
The detective slowly stiffened and glared at her. “I’m not in a—”
“I want to be formally and publicly cleared of all suspicion, and my reputation restored,” she said.
He nodded slowly. “I’m good with that.”
“I want that doctor brought down,” she snapped. “He’s also the one responsible for having me kidnapped, but nobody even gives a shit about that,” she said. “I want the people on the hospital board at that time replaced. They’re the ones who threw me under the bus, even though I didn’t do anything.”
The detective frowned at that and started to speak, but she interrupted. “And Patricia Marie,” she said, “she was a very good doctor, and she also got canned at the same time because she stood up for me. I want her reinstated.”
At that, Detective Wilson shook his head. “I don’t know that I can make all that happen,” he said. “Some of that is well out of my sphere of influence.”
She didn’t miss a beat and said, “And I don’t know if I remember how to get into the safe deposit box.”
Bullard gave a hard snort at that and said, “What he can’t do, I will.”
She looked at him, then gave a clipped nod. “Fine.”
The detective looked back and forth between them, settling on Bullard. “You have to stay within the law.”
Bullard smiled and said, “Of course.”
Wilson glared at him. “I mean it. No taking the law into your own hands.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “I have a lot more sophisticated ways to deal with this mess.”
The detective looked at her and asked, “Where is it?”
She looked at Bullard and said, “We need to make a trip to the bank.”
“We wanted to go there anyway,” he said, standing up.
“Yes,” she said and looked at the detective. “You should probably come with us now.”
He nodded and stood.
As soon as they were outside the police station, Bullard hailed a nearby cab, which seemed like a miracle, considering it was New York. Once in the back seat, she gave the driver the address of the bank, and they were there within ten minutes. Bullard paid for the cab, and they walked inside. It took another ten minutes to verify her identity, but finally she was led into a small room where she was given her box. Thankfully she had specifically requested a combination lock, rather than a key. With a look at it, she took a deep breath, entered the combination, and opened it.
Bullard whistled at her side. “Wow, I gather you don’t trust banks.”
“It was emergency money, in case I had to run deeper than I expected,” she said, pulling out several stacks of cash. There on the bottom, under the money, was the flash drive. She pulled it out, looked at Bullard, and said, “I’ll need to make a copy of this.”