Chapter 60

word count 1436

Hank and Gil were back at work again. Seated at their desks, neither man spoke more than necessary. And Gil, in particular, was flushed and peeved. He hated the way Hank stole anxious glances at him. When he returned the gaze, the other man looked away. It was obvious Hank had a big question he would like to ask but didn't dare. No doubt that question was about Trudy. Did he or didn't he? Well, Gil figured it was nobody's business but his own. In the dismally quiet room the phone rang, making both men jump. Gil reached for it first.

"Homicide," he murmured, cradling the phone on his shoulder. "What...where?" He grabbed a pencil and started scribbling. "Are you sure? Have you checked DNA...uh, huh! We're on our way!"

He hung up the phone. "They've found Simon Learnagel's body!"

"What? Any sign of Leichtenstein?" The trail was still dead on Jake, and so with this news, Hank sat up straight in his chair ready to move on any new information.

"Well, they found the body over in Weston. Let's get over there and see if we can pick up a scent."

***

Later, in the car. Hank tried to ask Gil about Trudy.

"So, you mentioned you wanted to call Trudy. Did you then?"

Gil, who was driving, shot Hank a worried look. "Yeah. I did. While you were in the restroom."

They rode in silence for several minutes until Hank spoke again.

"Weston...I think I went bass fishing there years ago. If I remember right it is a regular "God's country, beautiful...white water rafting, fishing, lots of blue water and green hills."

"YOU...a fisher?" Gil said it like it was an impossibility.

"Yeah, I can fish! I do unusual things sometimes. Just like you do...just like you...I dunno...sleep with Trudy!" Hank waited for a reaction.

"Get off my ass, pal! Whether Trudy and I get together is none of your business, NONE of your business at all. What are YOU doing with the boss's wife anyway?"

With Gil mentioning Jeannie, Hank shut down. "There's your exit!" he said, ending the conversation about the boss's wife there and then.

***

They examined little Simon's body at the morgue, a gruesome sight, then headed to the hospital to see the comatose fellow who was at the scene.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Bernstein," the attending physician said, extending a hand in greeting when they were introduced. "Before you go in, I should warn you, he's an unsettling sight. Aside from the fact he is hooked up to machines which bothers most people, he has also been beaten badly, very badly. When he's more stable, we're going to have plastic surgery take a look at him to rebuild his face. It's that bad."

The two detectives nodded, then glanced at each other before opening the door. Neither thought it could be as gory as the remains of Simon Learnagel. But it was bad. The man in bed barely resembled a human being. Aside from the fact tubes were attached to him presumably making his body function, his face was a mass of wrangled flesh. Actual features, like a nose or eyes were indiscernible in the mound of raw, red mush. A bandage was plastered on a wound on top of his head, nested among blood-stained blond hairs, a reminder of an obvious concussion.

"Well, it doesn't look like this is going to tell us much," Gil remarked. "He can't talk, and we can't even make out his features."

"Well, why don't we go and see this Sadie who did the beating."

"I believe they are holding her in the psychiatric unit."

"Oh, that's splendid," Hank said. How much weirder could this day get?"

***

In her room on Level 7, Room 23, Sadie eyed the detectives with distrust. Her appearance was much improved, not that it was easily accomplished. The day nurse had suffered considerable bumps and scratches by the time she and an orderly finished pinning the woman down to sponge bathe her in the most liberal fashion possible and to run a brush through her rat's nest hair in order to cleanse it with foam shampoo. Cleaning the woman's teeth was a nightmare. Nurse Jenkins thanked God her latex gloves held up when Sadie tried to bite her. She made a note on the chart to let the night nurse bathe her next time.

"Hello, Sadie! I'm Detective Bower and this is Detective Bettencourt. How are you today?"

Her dark, beady eyes studied them closely. They stopped when they landed on Gil. "You're cute," she said.

"Um, thank you," he replied. He moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. "We wanted to talk to you about the day the police came and found you. Where did you get the baby you put in the shopping cart?"

"It's my baby, my Isaac!"

"I see. But why was he wrapped up and placed in the cart?"

"He was sick, not breathing. I found him in the river on the rocks. I missed him and I took him to keep with me."

"You found him in the river?" Gil shot a glance to Hank.

"Yeah, the river brought him from upstream. He washed up on the rocks. As soon as I saw him, I knew he was my Isaac."

"Are you sure the river carried him from upstream? Are you sure that's how he got there?" Gil looked anxious.

"Of course, I taught biology once. I know a few things."

"Okay, good. Now, who was that guy you were beating up on? Who was he?" Gil stroked her hand gently.

"He's the one who killed Isaac. As soon as I saw him, I knew he did it." Sadie pulled her hand out of Gil's grasp. She was trembling in excitement. "I just wanted to kill him like he killed my Isaac."

"I see. Did you know his name?"

A crazed expression took over her countenance. Her eyes changed, glaring, but looking through Gil rather than at him. "It was Junie. Junie killed my boy."

"Sadie, 'Junie' is a girl's name. Is that the person you meant to name?"

"I saw him on TV...Junie." The more Sadie spoke,the more agitated she became. "I wanted to kill him, kill him for killing my Isaac!" She rocked back and forth, flailing her arms. The distraught woman broke out into wailing, screaming with indecipherable grunts and howls. Hank dashed out the door to get a doctor.

Dr. Bernstein returned with a syringe, expertly injecting it into Sadie's arm. "I'm sorry, gentlemen! This is going to put her to sleep. I'm afraid your questioning is over for today."

***

"Come on, Lisa! What do you want? What do you dream about?" John leaned close, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"I don't know! I guess I have always dreamed of true love...and a good family for my boy...oh, John, you're overwhelming me!"

Yes, John thought. I can do that! I can love her; I can love Erik. He eased her back against the wall and held her there with his arms pinning her hands to the wall, leaning close and peppering little kisses on her neck. "I think I already love you," he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, John!" She stood on her toes to kiss him full on the lips.

With his excitement rising, he let go of her with one hand to pull and wretch open her blouse, sending a button rolling across the floor. Reaching behind in a frantic hand grab, he undid her bra in a clumsy motion, and as it dropped to the floor he cupped her bare breast in his hand. By now she was under his spell, moaning, wresting her hands free to grope at his clothes like a wild woman, with heavy breaths fumbling and yanking, trying to undo his pants zipper.

"Oh, Lisa!" he hissed in her ear, tearing at her jeans.

"Well, isn't this a lovely sight for the children?" The shrill tone cut through John like a machete...Trudy. He turned, one hand still wrapped around Lisa's breast, to see his wife standing behind them, arms folded across her chest, steaming with anger.

"Where are the boys?" she snipped.

He pointed to the stairs with his free hand that wasn't groping Lisa's breast.

"I'm going to check on them. I'll send Adam down. And you," she said, pointing to Lisa, "take him home with you...and don't YOU ever set foot in my home again."

She turned to John and said, "and YOU, I'll deal with later."