That was fine with me. If she wanted to be angry and needed some time to herself, I wouldn’t pressure her.
I poured myself a glass of whiskey, opened the texts from Antoine, and took a deep breath. He’d sent me a single phone number with the name Dr. Chen, and beyond that I was on my own.
I opened the back door and stepped out onto my patio. It was a crisp night and I felt the cold tug at the hem of my scrubs. I sat down on the metal patio chair and typed the number into my phone, then hit send.
It started ringing. I paced, feeling nervous.
“Hello?” The voice was calm, almost bored sounding.
“Hello, ah, is this Dr. Chen?”
“Yes, it is,” he said, like, of course it was. “And who is calling, please?”
“My name is Dr. Gavin Majors, I work at Mercy General. How are you tonight?”
A long pause, and I thought I lost him, but I could hear something in the background—a television playing a basketball game maybe, or it could’ve been a radio.
“Dr. Majors,” he said, sounding skeptical. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I got your umber from a former patient, a guy name Antoine. Do you know him?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t recognize the name.”
“He’s something of a criminal,” I said and laughed, realizing how absurd that sounded. “He told me that you might be able to help me with a problem.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you think—”
“There’s a man named Cosimo,” I said, cutting him off. “He works for the mafia. I don’t know much about him beyond that, but he’s been, uh, pressuring my wife, pushing her into… things she’s not comfortable with. Listen, Dr. Chen, I’m reaching out because I’m trying to get ahold of someone that can help.”
He was quiet again for a short beat. “I’m sorry. I can’t help.”
“Wait,” I said before he could hang up. “I only need a name or a phone number. Cosimo has to have a boss, there’s no way that asshole runs his crew all alone. If you know anything—”
“You have to understand something.” Dr. Chen no longer sounded bored or polite. His tone took on a warning edge that I knew too well. “In my line of business, talking to someone like you is liable to get me killed.”
“I’m not interested in messing with your business,” I said. “I need help, and if you know Cosimo, then you know it’s serious.”
He grunted. “I’m familiar with the man, yes.”
“Then you know the sort of stakes I’m dealing with.”
“Listen, this is beyond what I’m used to. I’m only a doctor, you have to understand. I treat them, but I don’t get involved with them.”
“I only need a name or a number.”
He didn’t speak again, but I could hear him breathing. He sounded stressed, and I could only imagine the sort of pressure he was under. These mafia guys were liable to turn on him at any moment if he even so much as hinted at betraying them. He probably feared them more than he feared anything else—and yet he worked with them.
It wasn’t too hard to imagine a doctor taking on their cases. We treat all people, good or bad, no matter what. It’s part of what becoming a doctor means—all people are my patients, and I took an oath to do no harm, to always care for humans, whether I agree with their choices or not. Chen healed them, probably fixed their gunshot wounds, stitched their cuts, reset their broken bones, but I doubt he approved of what they did.
Though I was sure the money helped ease his guilt.
“Very well,” he said. “But if you use my name, if you so much as hint at even knowing who I am, I swear to you I’ll find you and kill you. If you think I can’t or I won’t, think about the sort of men I deal with on a daily basis. I’ve picked up on a few things over the years.”
“I won’t breathe a word of your involvement.”
“His name is Dante. You can find him at a bakery over on Fifth and South most days.”
“A bakery? Do you have a name?”
“You can’t miss it. Looks like a hipster coffee shop. The place will be filled with his goons, so you need to tread very, very carefully. That’s all I can say, good luck.”
“Thank you—” But he already hung up.
I lowered the phone down and placed it on top of the table. I was going into this blind, but at least I had a lead. I didn’t know if Cosimo’s boss knew what sort of shit he was getting into, or if the guy would even care. Presumably, anyone that had power over Cosimo probably wasn’t a great guy himself. Still I had to try, because I knew it wouldn’t work any other way. Cosimo wouldn’t back down, but maybe I could talk to his bosses and pay them off, maybe I could appeal that way.