“Lennie didn’t do it. We have other evidence.” He watched her carefully. She was pulled into herself, as if expecting a blow. He went on, “Why were you down in the basement that night?”
“She left a message at the nurses’ station, up at
Seven-North, saying she was in her office and I should stop by.”
“This was when?”
“I don’t exactly recall. I’ve tried to put a timeline together, though, with the supervising nurse on that floor. I had been called in for a consult. The message came in while I was with the patient. So I went down probably around twelve-thirty.”
“Why would you do that?”
Cheryl Beth pulled back and sighed. Will knew he had made a misstep. He spoke gently.
“I’m just curious. I mean, it’s the middle of the night. That’s a very deserted part of the hospital.”
“Oh, I feel like I’ve told this story so many times. Sorry, it’s not you. I’m here at all hours, especially after dark. That’s when people hurt. It isn’t unusual to see docs here, either, especially surgeons checking on their patients.” That much was true. Will’s surgeon might routinely cruise through at one or two in the morning. It seemed like cops’ hours, with better pay.
Cheryl Beth continued, “After she took a special assignment to work on the digital project—help us get this paperwork on computers—she was working in the admin wing. At some point, she took an office in the basement.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Wouldn’t have been my choice. Maybe it was odd she was working so late, but she was a workaholic. I didn’t really think about it. I take shortcuts all the time. I used to, at least. And that corridor through the basement is a great way around some of the logjams in the main hallways. It just didn’t seem odd until later.”
Her bagel remained untouched. Will had eaten his quickly, appreciating the taste and texture as never before. Now he was drinking a Diet Coke, all these things precious in his hospital jail. He asked more questions. The hallway had been deserted when she got off the elevator. It was only later, when the cops had sealed off the main first-floor hallway because of the gang shooting, that traffic would pick up in the basement, the time when he had been wheeled by, only hours out of surgery. When she had first got there, only the usual bank of lights was on, leaving most of the length of the corridor in darkness. As she had walked to Dr. Lustig’s office, she did hear a metallic sound. She didn’t think much about it at the time.
“It didn’t scare you to be down there?”
“It sure does now. I hate that. I used to love being in the old parts of the hospital, thinking about the history of this place.” She lowered her head slightly. “Will, there’s something you need to know.” He waited with a neutral face. His old detective face.
“I had an affair with Dr. Lustig’s husband.” She spoke the words slowly, in a hard, low voice. Will imagined her teeth grinding at the thought. This was not a happy memory. Yet she looked at him straight on. “It had been over for a long time. For several months. It was really bad judgment on my part.”
“This is Gary Nagle?” Will smiled gently. “I know about it.”
She shook her head. “You must think I’m a really stupid person.”
“No.”
“Your friend Detective Dodds thinks I killed Christine!” Her eyes were wide with apprehension.
“I wouldn’t worry,” Will said.
“You believe me? I had nothing to do with this.”
He nodded. Still, she didn’t look reassured. For a long time she just stared into the tabletop. “I think he’s going to arrest me.”
“If he really thought you had done it, he would have executed a search warrant long before now.”
“Why can’t they catch this person then?”
Will wanted to say, because it’s not TV. He had heard these questions so many times, often from grieving family members desperate for news, any news. “I’m out of the loop, believe me. Dodds doesn’t want my help. I’ll tell you this much: the first forty-eight hours after a homicide are the most important. It’s been more than two weeks now.
“Every day that passes after that makes it less likely that the case will be solved. That’s when the real drudgework of homicide begins—don’t believe all the crap you see on TV about the miraculous forensic breakthrough. Usually it’s just grueling footwork. But there are a lot of cases that are never solved.”
“But this was a doctor, at the hospital,” she blurted. “It’s not like some drug killing down in Over-the-Rhine.” She stopped herself with a sharp intake of breath. “Oh, God, that sounded awful. I’m sorry.”
“I’ve heard worse,” Will said. “To be honest, I don’t know why they don’t have somebody in custody.” He was conscious of the alien word they instead of the familiar we. “I know there was another high-profile killing. The city’s on track for a record number of homicides this year. The detail is short-handed. There have been budget cuts.” He shook his head. “Excuses. Bullshit.”
She reached out for his hand. “Do you believe me, as a police officer, when I tell you I had nothing to do with this?”