He shifted in his seat. “I gotta be out of here in ten minutes. What do you want?”
Light turned out to be a nice guy. Asked about the people who rode the Hospital Center Line, Light said that during the day, in addition to the folks who lived along the route, you had sick people.
“Lots of them. Four big hospitals and a bunch of clinics on the line. That’s why we got the wheelchair lift.”
“Veterans?”
“Lots of them, too. You know, lost their arms and legs. Or their eyes. Or worse, their…you know.”
I got it. “How do you know that?”
“It’s in everything about them, man,” Light said quietly. “They look so damn humiliated. Can’t even pick their heads up. I feel so bad for those boys. And for the families, you know?”
“Lot of family members with them? The patients, I mean.”
“You know, with all the non-vets stopping at Children’s or Washington Hospital and the National Rehab, half and half maybe? Some relatives are very loyal, and you recognize them. There’s this one couple. He’s in a wheelchair, and there’s his sister right behind him every time they get on.”
“So you got regulars?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, taking a bite of the sandwich. “But they’ll come and go. Very few stick around forever.”
“Sure,” I said. “You must hear things driving.”
Light swallowed before letting out a laugh. “You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve heard! What people say out loud in public, as if I wasn’t even there. Make my mother blush.”
“Ever hear any of the vets talking trash about the government? Congress?”
His laugh this time sounded bitter. “All the damn time.”
“Anyone in particular?”
He thought about that. “Well, they all do it. One snafu after another for the vets, you know. But there’s this one guy rides once or twice a week. He’s got nothing but piss and venom to say about the whole lot
of them at the VA and up on the Hill. How the Capitol should explode.”
“He said that?”
“Yup, a week, maybe two ago. You bet.”
“You got a name for him?”
Light pursed his lips, shook his head. “Not that I’ve ever heard.”
“But you’d recognize him?”
“He stands out. Half his face got chewed up by an IED.”
Chapter 26
At 8:30 the next morning, Bree and I were at the front entrance of Veterans Affairs Medical Center. We went straight to the plastic surgery unit, asked for the chief resident, and soon found ourselves in the office of Dr. Richard Stetson.
We explained who we were looking for. Stetson began to explain the various reasons he couldn’t help us, starting with doctor-patient privilege, not to mention the HIPAA laws.
“We have reason to believe he may be involved in the Mall bombings,” Bree interrupted. “We have reason to believe that he is doing this because of Congressional gridlock over the veterans’ bill.”
Stetson frowned. “If it’s the man I’m thinking of, this is surprising. Stunning even. As for the gridlock, I condemn the bomber’s tactics, obviously, but the fact is that most of the programs in this building will shut down if that bill doesn’t cross the President’s desk. He’s not the only one with a grudge.”
“And if his next bomb kills someone?” I said. “Isn’t that against the Hippocratic oath—first do no harm? We need your help.”