Chapter 9
981 Words
“The doctor didn"t have a lot of friends,” the wren-like nurse said. We were sitting in her immaculate kitchen with the bulging bookcases overflowing into the next room, and her Jack Russell asleep in the corner.
The nurse"s scrubs were wrinkled and looked as though they"d been slept in, but her hair was perfectly styled and her makeup looked good, nice pink lipstick. I noticed she seemed to have a tan. Seemed she took care of herself. I suddenly felt frumpy. I wished I looked that good.
“The doctor was a very misunderstood man. I think he worked too hard and took his work too seriously.” She snuffled into the sleeve of her uniform top. Her eyes were watery grey, full of tears, and a bit red and swollen.
“Do you know anyone would want to see him dead?”
A rhetorical question. Who, amongst the Doc"s patients, would not want the drugs? Just all of them, that"s all.
“The police officers took his books and equipment,” she said. “But not before I got the memory stick from his PC.”
Wow.
Wow.“Very smart,” I said. “Do you have it here?”
“I saved them all,” she said. “All his clients on there and his contacts.”
“His friends?”
“His contacts and friends.”
She was a clever fox. “Why did you take the memory stick?” I asked.
“Weren"t the police looking for it?”
“The police are working under the sergeant"s orders, and he"s under the thumb of the mayor,” she replied. “I don"t trust the mayor entirely, Annie.” She hadn"t answered me.
“Do you trust me?” I tried to look sane. The voices roared and I counted under my breath. Kill her. It"ll be worth it to see her bleed. I shook my head.
Kill her. It"ll be worth it to see her bleed.“I don"t know,” she whispered. “I have to trust someone.”
“You loved him,” I ventured, reaching out to wipe her eyes with a tissue.
She nodded, snuffling again into her blouse. “Bill was a wonderful person to work with, selfless to the end. Always trying to help the downtrodden and the addict and the homeless, never thinking of himself, working long hours and misunderstood.”
“They thought Doc worked in that clinic for the money?” She nodded.
“There was precious little money in a methadone clinic. Everyone thought he was a…a…”
“Pill pusher?” Again she nodded. My voices weren"t sympathetic.
It"s an act. She hated him. Nobody loves an old man who works too many late nights and is bald and overweight…
It"s an act. She hated him. Nobody loves an old man who works too many late nights and is bald and overweight…“Shut up,” I whispered. Nobody loved me, either. “Sorry, I meant the voices.”
The nurse smiled. “I understand your illness,” she said. “You don"t keep it a secret. Good for you. The doctor might have helped you if you"d come to him.”
“He was sympathetic?” You needed a high-end d**g pusher, roared The Screamer. I counted the wrinkles in the nurse"s face.
You needed a high-end d**g pusher,“He helped a lot of the mentally ill in the community.” I"m sure.
I"m sure.“He must have been a good man,” I agreed. Liar. “So who would have wanted to kill him?”
Liar.The room was very hot. I pushed back my chair. The curtains were open over the kitchen sink. Anybody could see me sitting here. I glanced out back at a beautifully-kept garden. The nurse liked to work in the soil. A rake and spade leaned against a garden shed. Very bucolic. The garden must be a stress reliever, those antiseptic hands buried in humus and cow dung. I could see she had been turning over the soil fairly recently.
“I"ll do what I can to solve the murder. Do you have a picture of him?”
She got up and fumbled in a drawer. “I"m afraid not,” she said finally. “That"s all right.” Just fishing.
Just fishing.“You might try this,” the nurse said, and handed me the memory stick. “I want you to have this.”
“You don"t trust the police?”
“They have a lot of corruption in the force from the top down. The cop on the beat is all right, Annie, but Doc knew a lot he wasn"t telling the media.”
“He told you?” She nodded.
“I heard he was friends with the mayor. That"s pretty much high society and the big guns.”
“That"s the problem,” she whispered. “I"m afraid. Be careful, Annie.”
“I"ll be careful.” I was clearly getting out of my depth here, but I took the memory stick with the Doc"s patient list on it, and thanked the nurse. She pressed a business card into my hand when I got up to leave.
“It"s an old card,” she explained. “I used to work in the Operating Room in Abbottsford. But the cell number is right. Call me if you have any more questions.”
Did someone in high places want the Doc dead, and why? When I looked back, the nurse was still sitting there, at her kitchen window, and I noticed she wasn"t crying anymore.
I looked at the card she"d given me. Her name was Molly (Margaret) Dewitt, RN and former OR nurse.
Molly, you loved Doc Hubert, didn"t you? You must be the only one, from what I hear.
- Writer
