Inhospitable
1035 Words
5
Inhospitable
Four hours later. Mount Saint John’s Medical Centre emergency room.
“This is the one that shot our victim?” Lieutenant Jack Pence said as he peered through the window into the hospital room. Pence was new to the island and hadn’t even had time to learn the names of the other officers.
“Yeah, won’t say a word though,” a junior detective replied. “Doc says she’s checked out medically. He can’t rule out a psyche evaluation though. Headshrinker will be down here from ClearviewPsychiatric Hospital later.”
“What happened when they tried to book her?”
“Doc said she probably had a seizure or episode of some type. Brain waves are normal now.”
“Christ, what set her off?”
“I don’t know. I looked at the tape from the booking room and it looks like she fought them pretty hard. Once they strapped her in the chair, she went nuts.”
“And she won’t talk? Who is she?”
“Hell if I know, man. All I know is she got picked up by the uniforms two blocks from the scene. She had no ID and wouldn’t disclose her name.”
“The victim pretty bad?”
“Let me put it to you this way, the vic has a compound fracture to the left leg, broken collarbone, a face that looks like purple butter, and two gunshot wounds.”
“Two GSWs and he’s alive?”
“At the moment, yes. He’s upstairs in surgery. One through the kneecap, the other . . . the groin.”
The lieutenant rubbed his chin. “We sure she’s the shooter? They find the weapon on her?”
“Yes, sir. Glock .380 subcompact.”
“So what’s that look on your face supposed to mean?”
“It’s the gun.”
“What about it?”
“Custom made. Never seen anything like it.” The young detective looked at Lieutenant Pence. “The grip had been shortened to reduce the size of the overall weapon. And then there was the silencer.”
“A silencer? You’re kidding me. Where does she think she is? The Bronx? This is Antiqua. I didn’t think we got silencers here. She give the uni’s any trouble at the scene?”
“Ah, yeah, you might say that. Spun around on the arresting officer so quickly, all he knew was that his firearm was no longer in his hands. She had disarmed him and pointed it at his face. Then he said she disassembled the weapon so fast he couldn’t see anything but gun parts dropping all over the ground. After that she gave them no trouble. Scared the s**t out of the guy though.”
“I bet.”
“The victim is another story. Even thoughhis face is bashed in pretty good, the arresting officer was able to recognize him. Got a record a mile long. Several outstanding felony warrants.”
The lieutenant looked at him. “So let me see if I’ve got this straight. The vic is a perp we’ve been looking for. He’s broken to pieces in an alley, two GSWs, then we find her near the scene? Is that and the gun the only thing that ties her to the vic?”
“The weapon was still warm. And her knuckles have fresh blood on them. His, not hers.”
The lieutenant crossed his arms. “s**t, look at her. She can’t weigh more than hundred and twenty pounds, wet,” he said as he glared into the room where she lay. “Then again, look at the musculature. She looks like that actress from that second Terminator movie. You know, when she got in shape? What was her name?”
“Linda Hamilton.”
“Yeah, a blond-haired Linda Hamilton. And she won’t tell us her name? You run her prints? Anything come back?”
“Sort of.”
“The computer couldn’t find a match?”
“Not exactly. Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. The computer found a match, but the results were redacted.”
“What do you mean, redacted?”
“Just like I said, redacted. They were blacked out on the computer monitor.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I printed it out so you could see.” The detective held out a piece of paper.
As Lieutenant Pence studied the printout, he shook his head. “What the hell?” Everything that would normally identity the matching fingerprints was blacked out. “Is she CIA or something?”
“No idea, but she’s highly trained, that’s for sure.”
“You try to talk to her?”
“Yup, twice. Doesn’t even look you in the eye.”
“This is bullshit,” the lieutenant said. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and walked into the hospital room. He placed his hand on an empty chair near the bed .“Mind if I have a seat?” he said, but didn’t bother waiting for a reply. As he pulled the chair closer to the bedside, he said, “So? How are things going with you?”
Her eyes flared. His attempt at levity had gone nowhere.
He glanced at her deep-bronze skin and sun-bleached hair and knew she was likely a local. “Tourist season has been good this year. It’s great for the island economy, don’t you think?” He craned his neck to make eye contact but the effort proved futile. “Look, I’m just trying to make small talk. You seem like a person in need of a friend right now.”
Without looking over, Jana said, “Some women would take offense to what you just said.”
“Really? Why is that?”
“A lot of guys walk up to you in bars and say things like that. ‘Hey, babe, looking for a friend?’ But it’s not your friendship they’re interested in.”
“My name is Jack. I’m not trying to make a pass at you. I’m a detective. You know, this conversation would go much better if I knew what to call you.”
Jana said nothing.
The lieutenant continued. “You busted that guy up pretty good. He’s in surgery, in case you were wondering. Where’d you learn to do that?”
She shifted in her bed and looked at the restraints on her wrists.
“It doesn’t look good, you know?” Pence continued. “You not talking to me. We’ve got a man broken to pieces and, unless you can tell me what happened, the district attorney is going to push for attempted murder.” He paused a moment to let the statement sink in.
“The prick didn’t try to kill me.”
“The charge of attempted murder wouldn’t be filed against him, it would be filed against you.” He watched her facial expression. “I take it you disagree? The charges are real, miss. I tell you what, why don’t we share information? I tell you something, you tell me something. Is that fair? And since I don’t know your name, I’m going to call you Jane, Jane Doe. That’s what we do in an investigation where we don’t know the name of the subject. So, Jane, I’ll start. What interests me about the victim’s injuries are the gunshot wounds. One to the kneecap, one to the groin. Those kind of makes a statement, don’t they? Did you find yourself in a bad position, and this, perhaps, was self-defense?” But when she made no response, the lieutenant got up to leave. “Listen, Jane. If you aren’t going to talk, you don’t give me any choice. Once the headshrinker clears you, you’ll be taken back to police headquarters. And you might as well make yourself at home. You might be there quite a while.”
- Writer
