The Pain Nurse

Chapter Twenty-seven

They drove east out of downtown on Columbia Parkway, quickly passing the promontory of Mount Adams and the modern condo where a chief executive of Procter and Gamble was said to keep his mistress. On the left were the tree-lined hills with condo towers sprouting out at intervals, and on the right the broad Ohio River curved and dipped. One lonely barge was being pushed upriver by a tug. Will told Cheryl Beth about the time years ago when the river had frozen solid and he had walked across to Kentucky. But she quickly moved back to the case.

“Wouldn’t the Mount Adams killer have kept the ring fingers as trophies?” she asked.

“Nobody knows about the ring fingers, so don’t blurt that out accidentally with Dodds or he’ll have a stroke.”

“I’ll be a good girl, and if he has a CVA, I’ll help treat him. Seriously, though.”

“That would be the profile,” Will admitted, “and we never found them among Factor’s things. We never even found the kind of tool that would do it.”

“Surgeons have those instruments.” She spoke more softly, staring straight ahead at the road. “Even a pair of heavy-duty bandage shears would do-they need to be able to cut off leather boots, whatever, in an emergency.”

She was still sure the killer was Gary Nagle. Will was trying to work out how to deal with Darlene Corley. Her statement had given Bud Chambers his alibi. The night of Theresa’s murder, Chambers had been on duty, except for a four-hour period that would have perfectly coincided with Theresa’s time of death. Once Will and Dodds had established this fact-after days of stonewalling by other officers on Chambers’ shift and even his watch commander-Darlene had emerged. She was Chambers’ girlfriend and he had been with her, at her place down by the river.

“How do you know she didn’t do it?”

Will laughed. “You’d make a good detective. How’d you get so cynical?”

“Old boyfriends.”

“You deserve a lot better than that.” He was instantly embarrassed he had said it, and continued quickly. “Now that you mention it, she’d be tall enough and strong enough. There’s the little matter of rape. Craig Factor was arrested and the semen matched.”

“But only one of the cases.”

Right. They never really had a chance to sweat her. Neither detective believed her story covering for Bud Chambers. But it didn’t seem to matter once Factor was in custody. Now Will would give it one more try. “Turn here.”

They could have gone north, up Delta into Mount Lookout and Hyde Park, where even the sidewalks seemed to radiate graceful prosperity. But they turned toward the river, past a restaurant called The Precinct, which was once a police station. Another quick turn and they continued on old Highway 52, in the ancient neighborhoods that clung to the riverbank below Alms Park. They usually got the worst of it when the Ohio had its way, defying the most elaborate flood control attempts. You could see the water marks on some of the old houses. Will directed Cheryl Beth to turn again, and he immediately saw the three white police cruisers.

“Hell.” He pointed to the porch of a tattered duplex. Half a strand of Christmas lights dangled off the rain gutters. Darlene Corley was sitting on the steps, her hands behind her, obviously handcuffed. One officer led a tall, rough-hewn man down the walk toward a cruiser. With stubble on his face and his dark hair poking out as if it had been shellacked, he looked as if he hadn’t bathed for a week. He was handcuffed and cursing, walking down a weedy path and through an opening in a rusty, waist-high cyclone fence. The officer opened a back door and stuffed him inside, holding his hand above his filthy head to keep him from banging it on the top of the door sill. Will had done it thousands of times. He rolled down the window and beckoned the cop over.

“Hey,” the young cop said when he saw Will’s badge.

“Hey. What have you got?”

“Domestic. Briar thing. Boyfriend’s going to jail for assault. The beauty queen up on the porch may be, too. When we got here she was waving an aluminum baseball bat at him and she hasn’t been too cooperative.”

“It’s always on the domestics when cops get hurt,” Will commiserated. “Her name’s Darlene Corley. She had a prostitution arrest a few years ago, but I think she’s clean otherwise. She’s one of my CIs.”

The uniformed cop nodded, new enough on the job to be happy to be spoken to like a peer by an older detective, to know about one of his confidential informants.

“Think you could bring her over here and cut her a break if she helps me? Otherwise, throw her under the jail. Hell if I care.”

“Sure, sure, Detective…?”

“Borders, Will Borders.”

The young man turned and walked back to the porch. Will was relieved that he didn’t make the connection a more experienced cop might make between “Will Borders” and “Internal Investigations” and get all paranoid. He stood Darlene up and walked her their way. She hadn’t changed much. She wore jeans, high heels, and a thick pink sweater with a bear stitched on it. But little about her appeared cuddly. She was both lanky and big boned-Dodds had called her “the roller derby queen”-and her face was cut hard, whatever her expression. Her long, unnaturally blond hair was poofed out.

“Hey, Detective Will. Long time, long time…”

“What’d you do, Darlene?”

“Damn Mike.” She gingerly touched the gulf of purple and black spreading out from around her left eye. “He’s my boyfriend. Long story. He’s been drinkin’ and every time he does he thinks he can beat on me, and he’s got another goddamn think coming…”

Will held up his hand.

“The officer tells me you’re going to jail.”

“No!” She whipped her head back and forth. “I ain’t done nothin’.” She wailed. Oh, he didn’t miss this part of the job.

“Here’s the thing, Darlene. You might be able to help yourself.”

Her drama ended instantly, her eyes intent on the potential transaction.

“I need information. You have it. If you help me, I might ask the officer to let you go, although the call is his.” Will looked toward the young patrolman, who nodded appreciatively.

“Anything, Detective Will. Who’s your partner with the pretty eyes? What happened to that fat nigger you used to run with?”

Will showed nothing on his face. They were words heard from whites more often in Cincinnati than the chamber of commerce types would admit. He had never used them, even though his father had, abundantly. His mother had disapproved. He waited for Darlene to realize her predicament. She was still handcuffed.

“So you’ll talk to me?”

“Sure, darlin’. But not here on the street. I can’t let my buds think I’m a snitch or something.”

A plan emerged in Will’s mind. “If the officer agrees, and you don’t cause any more trouble… One more call, and you’re going to jail. Got it?”

“Sure.” She sulked.

“Then meet me under the bridge by the Serpentine Wall in an hour. I’ll be sitting there. You’ll find me.”

“No problem.” The officer took off the cuffs and she was beaming.

“Darlene.”

“Yes sir?”

“If you stand me up, I’m going to make sure you do jail time.”

Cheryl Beth drove silently, her chin set at a pensive angle.

“I’m sorry to put you in the middle of all this,” Will said.

She shook her head. “I am in the middle. That was just a little too close for comfort.” She pulled back on Columbia and sped up. “I grew up around people like that. I could have been one.”

“I doubt that.”

“I beat the odds. My dad died young. Railroad accident. I think he had some ambitions for all of us. We ended up nearly destitute. The church pretty much took us in until my mom could find work. All she wanted was for me to be a cheerleader in high school, then settle down, get married and have kids. I was the one who wanted to be an honor student and get out of town. I had several friends who got pregnant in high school. All my brothers are still down there. Lord.”

He liked the image of her as a cheerleader, but kept that to himself. He admired the honor student part. His dad had only expected Will to do well at high school football and go to work as a cop. Going to college, much less at a fancy place like Miami University, was beyond his comprehension. And yet Will had come back home and joined the force. Maybe he hadn’t beaten the odds.

How do you want to play this? That’s what he or Dodds would say to the other as they worked up a strategy before confronting a suspect or a witness. He found himself missing his old partner in spite of everything. Now it was up to him, even though he was constantly afraid the pain might break through, even though his body was a mess of constipation and foreign sensations.

They went through a Skyline Chili drive-thru and ordered a late lunch. Damn the short winter days. As the day streamed by, the time drew closer when he would have to return to the hospital. But the two cheese Coney dogs were ambrosia. Cheryl Beth ate two as well. Fifteen minutes later, they were set up.

Will wheeled himself into the riverfront park by the contoured mass of concrete called the Serpentine Wall. In the spring and summer, the area would be full of people and boats cruising the river. Today it was deserted. Downtown was behind them and the bridges soared overhead on either side. He found a bench that was easily seen and Cheryl Beth helped him scoot onto it from the chair. He was glad to be rid of the infernal transfer board, but his legs were feeling weaker. Just hold out a little longer. Then he instructed her to take the chair back to the car and stow it. She rejoined him and they silently watched the cold, swift, concrete-brown river flow past, and, on the other side, the old brick buildings of Newport and Covington. He thought about his morphine dream of dead children and quickly banished it. The park was one of his favorite places. Overhead, the American flags snapped noisily in the breeze, and the flying pigs looked cold up on their ornate columns. It wasn’t long before he saw Darlene walking quickly toward them from the east, emerging from the shadows of an old bridge abutment.

“So what are we doin’? It’s freezing.”

“Have a seat.” Will indicated for her to sit beside him. Cheryl Beth was on his other side.

“So you have a new boyfriend? What does Bud think about that?”

Darlene held her arms around herself tightly, shivering despite wearing several layers of clothes.

“Screw Bud.” She said it like spitting. “I don’t give a damn what he thinks.”

“How come?”

“How the hell come? He’s the one got me on the meth. Fucked up my life big-time. Then he leaves me. Haven’t seen him for a year.”

“Now, Darlene, you know anything you tell me can be used against you in a court of law.”

“What? You’re a narc now, Detective Will? That baby cop told me all that stuff. I’ve heard it before. Why are we out here? Can’t we go sit in the car?”

“This won’t take long.” He fought to sit normally on the bench, so Darlene wouldn’t know he needed the wheelchair, that he wasn’t really on duty. That she wouldn’t notice how his weak left leg fell out to the side, ever so unnaturally. He wanted to shift his weight every minute or two to ease the discomfort. He stayed still.

Darlene held her face in profile as she stared at the mesmerizing river. It looked as if she had aged a decade since he had talked to her two years before. Her skin was pale and freckled, and now it was deeply creased. It bore a moonscape of small scars. She pulled out a pack of Camels and lit one, puffing on it nervously. The smoke mingled with the mist from her breath and it all came into his face.

“I just need to clear a few things up about an old case.”

She looked at him and stubbed out the cigarette. “You mean the murder.”

“Yes.”

She lit another smoke and stared at the river.

“Been a long time ago. That boy went to prison. I hear he died there.”

“That’s right.” Will watched the river and let her smoke and stew. The cold was on his side. He had never minded it. “You said Bud was with you that night.”

“He was there. He came by most nights, when he was working nights.”

“You guys never lived together?”

“No. He wouldn’t.”

“He’d moved out on his wife. Seems like he’d want to be with a pretty thing like you.”

“He said he needed his space, whatever the hell that means. Men say that. He’d come by some nights, some afternoons. We’d fuck and he’d leave. True love, huh?”

“Who knows?” He waited, let the cold stab at her. Then, “Maybe he had a girl on the side.”

She was inhaling furiously, the skin above her upper lip showing ribs of wrinkles. The river slapped noisily at the concrete and traffic droned on the interstate overhead. Quietly, he heard her say, “Son of a bitch…”

“I don’t mean to upset you,” Will said. “You know how some men are. Girl on the side here, girl on the side there, always too busy to spend much time.”

“Son of a bitch.” She said it louder this time.

“How’d you get on meth?”

“He brought it one day. Said he’d taken it off a dealer and it might be fun. It sure as hell was. Only he just drank Jack Daniels while I did it. Fuck, it wrapped around me like a snake…”

“When’d he do this?”

“Couple years ago.”

“Before or after his wife was killed?”

She thought for a moment. “Before.”

“So did you have to go out and buy it, once you got hooked?”

“No, he’d bring me some. I thought I had a real sugar daddy.”

“You can get treatment.” This was Cheryl Beth. Darlene lit another Camel and leaned forward to look at her.

“You sound like you’re south of the river, pretty eyed girl.”

“Corbin, Kentucky,” Cheryl Beth said.

“I got people down that way,” Darlene said. “Down by Bailey’s Switch?”

“I know Bailey,” Cheryl Beth said.

Will wished she hadn’t gotten Darlene off track, but then he changed his mind. He knew how they’d play it.

“Darlene, about that night, when Theresa Chambers was murdered…”

“Yeah, yeah, Detective Will, you have a one-track mind.”

“It wasn’t really true was it?”

“What?” She hesitated just long enough.

“I didn’t think so,” Will said.

She twitched and huddled into herself. “He told me he’d kill me if I told you the truth.”

Will told her she would be safe, and that moment he thought he could leap up and dance along the Serpentine Wall. She had come right out and said it.

“I had to cover for him, don’t you understand?” She hugged herself tightly, staring down at the sidewalk. “He got me my stuff. I woulda died without it. He said he had a dealer under his thumb, that’s just how he said it. And if I didn’t do what he said, he wouldn’t bring me my fix. Then when you guys called, he said he’d kill me if I didn’t say things happened his way.”

“So he wasn’t with you that night?”

She shook her head.

Will asked her again and she nearly shouted “No!” then reached back in her coat pocket, pulled out the pack, and lit another cigarette. She was crying now. “Are you gonna arrest me? Take me to jail? I’m clean now. I got a baby now, Detective Will, please, God, don’t…”

“Just tell me the truth, Darlene.”

“It’s going to be all right,” Cheryl Beth said.

Darlene rubbed her nose and scrunched her face. “Who are you, girl? You don’t have a cop face.”

Will intervened. “What if I told you she was a witness.”

Suddenly Darlene seemed to age another ten years and her face turned bright red before losing its color entirely. Even the veiny damage from her boyfriend’s fist seemed to drain of blood. “Wha…? How is that possible? Oh, fuck. Bud said nobody could…” Her words became an unintelligible blubber with the occasional “they’re gonna take my baby” coming through. Will put his hand on her arm and she fell into his shoulder bawling. He fought not to tilt sideways into Cheryl Beth.

“Tell me how it happened, Darlene. This doesn’t have to go badly for you if you tell the truth.”

“He just told me to tell you that he was with me. He said the bosses were after him, trying to fire him. I never knew anything about his wife being killed…”

“So you covered for him.”

She nodded, kept crying. She was shivering and her teeth chattered from the cold. “But he said nobody would know, nobody would see us. I didn’t know what he was going to do. I swear to God, I swear to God…”

Every nerve tensed in Will’s body. He had used the word “witness” to describe Cheryl Beth. It had opened all the doors. He said, “So you didn’t think anybody would see. Don’t you want to tell your side of the story?”

She sat back up, miraculously avoiding leaving cigarette burns in Will’s overcoat. She leaned out again to stare at Cheryl Beth.

“Bud brought that boy home. Bud was a kinky one, you know? We did some weird stuff, you know? He really liked it. But no way was I goin’ to fuck some street nigger, much less a retard. Poor thing, looked scared as hell. Bud could do that to you. But he told us what to do.” She gently touched her black eye. “I’m cold, Detective Will.”

“Just tell it the way you remember it, Darlene.”

She spoke slowly, the mist from her breath and cigarette smoke wreathing her head. “Bud told me to take off my clothes and get in bed and play with myself. ‘Put on a show for him,’ he said. And he had that boy sit in a chair and watch me.” She hesitated, then continued. “Bud told him to jerk off in this plastic bottle he gave him. That’s what we did. That’s all we did. And Bud let the boy go. I just thought it was weird shit, you know? I said, ‘Why you keeping his come in that bottle?’ He didn’t answer. Nobody was gonna get hurt.”

She had pulled him through a door he didn’t even know existed. He had a dozen questions, but didn’t dare ask them. She believed Cheryl Beth had seen this. Will couldn’t let her think otherwise.

Suddenly Darlene was talking rapidly, trying to purge it from her memory. “I never knew what Bud was going to do. I swear to God. That morning, he come by, all agitated. He said he found her body, Theresa. He swore to me that he didn’t kill her, but he said he had to put that boy’s come on her body because the other cops would frame him, say he done it because he was the husband and she had a restraining order against him and all. He told me what to say. God, I was scared! Fuck, it was hard keeping my head straight.”

“So,” Will said, “just to be clear, did you know who Bud brought home that night?”

“I never seen him before. Just said his name was Craig.”

“The one we arrested for murder, right?”

“Yes sir.”

“And when did Bud bring him home to you, when did you do this?”

“It was two nights before the killing.”

“How do you remember that, what with the meth and all?”

She smiled, sniffled loudly. “It was my birthday.”

Will stared into the opaque river and said nothing. The day was cold and dying. At last he spoke through the chill, “Darlene, you’re going to have to give a statement. Are you willing to do that?”

“Yes. Yes, I am…just let me keep my baby.”

He patted her arm and told her she could go. She stubbed out the last Camel, tossed it into the growing pile of cigarette filters on the sidewalk, and stood. She walked two steps and turned.

“I always liked you, Detective Will. Always thought you were fair. I never believed what Bud said about you.”

It was a moment of premonition, the nanosecond where the bullet leaves the rifle and strikes a target even before its sound is heard. But Will asked, “What did Bud say?”

“That you killed Theresa.”