Long Shadows

Chapter 17

“She’s been taken to a nearby hospital,” Andrews reported to Decker and White as he got off his phone.

They were standing in front of the building housing Gamma Protection Services. After Lancer collapsed, an ambulance had been called, and she had been taken away without regaining consciousness. Roe and her entourage had disappeared back into the secure halls of Gamma, and Andrews and the others had been escorted out by an armed man in a security uniform.

Decker said, “When can we talk to her?”

Andrews shrugged. “I don’t know. Soon, hopefully.”

“And the files on any threats?” Decker added.

Andrews snapped, “Look, Decker, a lady just collapsed. I’m hoping she’s okay. Why not focus on that for a minute, okay?”

Decker glanced at White, who was giving him a curious look. He said, “Who else at Gamma can we talk to?”

“I think it was just the Lancer woman,” replied Andrews.

“Out of this whole big, fucking company, she’s the only one who knows anything?” demanded an incredulous Decker.

“That very well may be the case,” said Andrews. “Need-to-know philosophy.”

White said, “Maybe I’m being overly paranoid here, but is it a weird coincidence that the only person who knows anything faints dead away before she can talk to us?”

Andrews said, “Oh come on, that’s a little out there, isn’t it? I mean, these are legitimate people we’re dealing with here. Gamma has a sterling reputation.”

“What about the Slovakian banknotes and Kanak Roe being from there?” said White. “Just another coincidence?”

Decker said, “And for the record, I don’t believe in one coincidence, much less two.”

Andrews looked less certain. “Well, that one was strange, I will admit.”

“I think it’s more than strange. I think it’s a clue that’s screaming at us,” said White.

“Well, let’s not rush into anything,” said Andrews. “We don’t want to waste time chasing down the wrong alley.”

Decker said, “Alan Draymont had old Slovakian banknotes stuffed down his throat. Gamma was founded by a guy from what is now Slovakia. His daughter’s name is basically Slovakian, and they have an office in the capital city of Slovakia. If that’s all a coincidence I’ll retire from the FBI and go flip burgers somewhere, naked.”

White snorted at this remark.

Andrews said, “Okay, I’m there with you. So does that mean this whole thing was directed at Gamma, and Draymont was killed because he worked there? And the judge was collateral damage?”

Decker said, “We need to determine if Draymont was a symbolic kill, or whether he was personally targeted for a reason other than his affiliation with Gamma.”

“How do we find that out?” asked Andrews.

“By doing our job. What hospital did they take Lancer to?” asked Decker.

“They didn’t say.”

“Then call them back right now and find out which one. Because when the lady comes to, we’re going to be there.”

Andrews did so and said, “Okay, I got the info. We can drive over now. It’s not far.”

Twenty minutes later they were walking into Harden Hospital near Coral Gables. It was four stories tall and outfitted far more luxuriously than any hospital Decker had ever been in.

“Harden?” said Decker.

Andrews said, “It’s a private facility and not cheap.”

White said, “You can say that again. This place has a restaurant and a spa.” She pointed to the electronic marquee in the lobby.

They approached the reception area, where a young woman in a sleek blue pantsuit and white blouse greeted them from behind a console outfitted with black granite and zebrawood. Decker felt like he was in a five-star resort, instead of a place for sick and injured people.

“May I help you?” the woman asked.

Andrews flashed his badge. “We’re here to see Alice Lancer. She was just admitted.”

“Yes, of course. Let me check on that.”

She sat down in front of her computer and hit some keys. She looked at the screen and said, “She arrived here and has been processed, but apparently they haven’t put her room number in the system yet. If you’ll have a seat, I’ll let you know as soon as they do.”

Decker stared at the woman for a long moment before walking over and sitting down in one of the waiting area chairs. White and Andrews joined him there.

“I’m sure it won’t be too long,” said Andrews.

“It’s already been too long,” Decker pointed out. “And getting longer by the second.”

White studied him as he kept glancing at the front desk looking agitated. “What’s on your mind, Decker?”

“One word.”

“Which is?” said White.

“‘Apparently.’”

Decker rose and went over to the front desk. The woman glanced up at him. “Yes? I haven’t heard anything yet.”

“Why did you say they ‘apparently’ hadn’t assigned her a room number yet?”

“Excuse me?”

“You used the word ‘apparently.’ That suggests some confusion or uncertainty.”

The woman looked embarrassed. “Oh, well, it’s just that we have quite a few empty rooms, and once you’re processed, a room is assigned.”

“Would the process rule out her being given a room? Like triage? Maybe they just let her leave.”

“No, the record on the system didn’t indicate that.”

White and Andrews joined Decker, who asked the woman, “What does the record indicate?”

“That she was processed and admitted, but no room was assigned.”

“Has that ever happened before?” asked White.

“Um, no, I mean, not very often.”

“And when it did happen, what was the reason?” asked Decker.

“That the person refused the admission for some reason. In other words, that they left AMA, against medical advice.”

Decker said, “Where is the admitting done? We need to go there right now.”

“But you can’t, it’s only for—”

White, who was obviously as out of patience as Decker, held up her badge and barked, “This says that you take us there now or you will be arrested for obstruction of justice.”

The woman looked near tears. “Oh my God.” She jumped up and said, “It’s this way.”

They followed her through a secure door, which she opened by holding a security card to the reader port on the wall.

They hurried down a long corridor and through another secure door. Laid out in front of them were a series of cubicles where people were inputting information into computers as other people sat in chairs next to them. Some folks were on gurneys parked against the wall. EMTs were standing next to some of them, apparently waiting for confirmation of their patient’s status.

“This is the Admissions Office,” she said.

Decker glanced around and then hustled over to a woman who was just getting up from her desk.

“We’re looking for an Alice Lancer. She was just admitted here.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

Another woman, sitting in the next cubicle, said, “She’s gone.”

Decker looked over at her. “Gone? Did she refuse admission?”

“No. Two police detectives came and took her away.”