WMC - First to Die

Chapter65

A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER, I sat in my hospital smock in the hematology clinic at Moffett. "Dr. Medved would like a word with you before we start," said Sara, my transfusion nurse. I felt nervous as she unpacked an IV setup for my treatment. Truth was, I had been feeling okay. Not much pain or nausea other than the incident in the ladies' room last week. Dr. Medved walked in with a manila folder under his arm. His face was friendly but un confiding I smiled weakly. "Only good news?" He sat across from me on the ledge of a counter. "How are you feeling, Lindsay?" "I wasn't feeling so bad when I saw you before." "Fatigued?" "Only a little. End-of-day kind of thing." "Sudden nausea? Queasiness?" I admitted I had vomited suddenly once or twice. He made a quick notation on a chart. He paged through some medical charts in the folder. "I see we've undergone four packed-red cell transfusions so far…" My heart was racing the longer he took. Finally, he put down the folder and he looked squarely at my face. "I'm afraid your erythrocyte count has continued to decline, Lindsay. You can see the trend line here." Medved passed me a sheet. Leaning forward, he took a Cross pen out of his breast pocket. The paper had a computer graph on it. He traced the pattern with his pen. The line went steadily down. Shit. I felt the air rush out of my lungs with disappointment. "I'm getting worse," I said. "To be frank," the doctor acknowledged, "it's not the trend we were hoping for." I had ignored the possibility that this might happen, burying myself in the case, sure that the numbers would improve. I had built this view on a natural trust that I was too young and energetic to be truly sick. I had work to do, important work, a life to live. I was dying, wasn't I? Oh, God. "What happens now?" I managed to say. My voice came out as a whisper. "I want to continue with the treatments," Medved replied. "In fact, increase them. Sometimes these things take a while to kick in." "Super hi-test," I joked glumly. He nodded. "From this point on, I'd like you to come in three times a week. And I'm going to increase the dosage by thirty percent." He shifted his weight off the counter. "In and of itself, there's no immediate cause for alarm," he declared in a marginally uplifting tone. "You can continue to work- that is, if you feel up to it." "I have to work," I told Medved.

Chapter66

I DROVE HOME IN A DAZE.XDne moment I was battling to unravel this damned case, and the next I was fighting for my life. I wanted a name. I wanted it now more than ever. And I wanted my life back. I wanted a shot at the whole deal -happiness, success, someone to share it with, a child. And now that I had met Raleigh, I knew there was a chance that I could have these things. If I could hold out. If I could will good cells into my body. I went into my apartment. Sweet Martha was all over me, so I took her for a short walk. But then I moped around, alternating between resolve to fight through this mess and sadness that I couldn't. I even contemplated making a meal. I thought it would calm me. I took out an onion and cut two desultory slices. Then I realized how crazy it all was. I needed to talk to someone. I wanted to shout, I don't fucking deserve this, and this time I wanted someone to hear it. I thought of Chris, his comforting arms around me. His eyes, his smile. I wished I could tell him. He would come in an instant. I could rest my head on his shoulder. I called Claire. She could tell from my first tremulous sound. She realized something was terribly wrong. "I'm scared," was all I said. We talked for an hour on the phone. I talked. I went back and forth with Claire in a numbed state- panicked by the impending nearness of Negli's next stage. I told Claire that nailing this bastard gave me the will to fight on. It separated me from being just another person who was sick. I had a special purpose. "Has that changed for you, Lindsay?" she asked softly. "No, I want to get him more than ever." "Then that's what we're going to do. You, me, little Cindy. We're here to help you fight. We're your support, Lindsay. Just this one time, don't try to do it yourself." In an hour, she had calmed me enough so we could say goodnight. I curled up on the couch. Martha and I snuggled under a blanket and watched the movie Dave. One of my favorites. When Sigourney Weaver visits Kevin Kline in his new campaign office at the end, it always makes me cry. I fell asleep, hoping for a happy ending in my own life.

Chapter67

THE NEXT MORNING I went at it stronger than ever. I still believed we were close, maybe just hours from a name for Red Beard. I checked in with Roth's contact, Jim Heekin, on the Seattle police force. Heekin said they were sorting through the bride's possessions as we spoke. If something came up he would let me know immediately. We got a reply back from Infortech, where Kathy Voskuhl had worked in Seattle. In the three years she had held her job, there was no record of any reimbursements for business trips to San Francisco. Her job was to work with developing clients in Seattle. A junior account manager. If she repeatedly went down there, she was on her own. Finally, I called McBride. The Koguts were still claiming that they knew nothing more. But yesterday he'd met with the father, who seemed ready to give in. It was wrenching that some desperate attempt to hold together their daughter's virtue was clouding their judgment. Since I was a woman, McBride suggested, maybe one more try from me would push them over the edge. I placed a call to Christine Kogut, the bride's mother. When she came on, her voice was different: remote but freer, as if she were in a less tormented state. Maybe, I just hoped, she was. "Your daughter's killer is ru

ing free," I said. I could no longer hold back. "Two other couples' families are suffering. I think you know who was hurting Kathy. Please, help me put him away." I heard her take in a long breath. When she spoke, grief and the release of shame trembled in her voice. "You raise a child, Inspector, you think she is always part of you. You love her so much and you think there is always that part that will never go away." "I know," I said. I could feel she was teetering. She knew his name, didn't she? "She was this beautiful thing… she could make anyone love her. A free spirit. One day, we thought, another free spirit would shape her into the kind of person she was meant to be. We cultivated it with our children. My husband insists we always favored Kathy. Maybe we helped bring it all on." I didn't say a word. I knew what it was like to finally give up what you were holding inside you. I wanted to let her reach that point on her own. "Do you have children, Inspector?" "Not yet," I told her. "It's so hard to believe, your baby, the cause of so much pain. We begged her to break free. We even got her the new job. Moved her ourselves. We thought, If she could only get away from him." I was silent, letting her go at her own pace. "She was sick, like an addict is sick, Inspector. She couldn't stop herself. But what I don't understand is why he would hurt her so badly. He took away all that was pure about her. Why did he need to hurt Kathy?" Give me the name. Who is he? "She was mesmerized by who he was. It was as if she had no self-control when it came to this man. She shamed us right up until the end. But even now" -her voice lowered"I still wonder how someone who loved my daughter could possibly kill her. I'm afraid that I don't believe it. That's partly why I wouldn't tell you." "Tell me now," I said. "I think she met him at the opening of one of his films. He told her he had a face like hers in mind when he dreamed up one of his characters. His heroine." It was then that Mrs. Kogut told me. My body went numb. I knew the name. Recognized it. He was famous, Red Beard.