Obsessed, p.18
Obsessed, page 18
Sloan chuckled and said, “Pierre here ate something that disagreed with him. He’s been here since last night.” Then the vet straightened, looked at me, and said, “What can I do for you?” He left his hand on the bulldog to keep the dog calm, slowly stroking the dog’s back.
I pulled out my ID. “Michael Bennett, NYPD.”
“Look, Officer, I support the PBA. But right now is not a particularly good time.”
This time I heard the dog actually pass gas. It sounded like a tiny trumpet. The smell was hardly as cute as the image.
“I’m actually here on an investigation.”
“How could I help you on an investigation?”
“You called a phone number connected to a business called The Girlfriend Experience.” I held my smile as I saw the color drain from his face.
Now he snapped, “I’ve learned from past experience not to talk to the cops. Sorry, not for any reason at all.”
“Seriously? That’s your move? I thought you went to college. The best you can come up with is that you don’t talk to cops?”
“Yeah. I need you to leave. Right now.”
I nodded and said, “Of course.” Then I laid down a warrant request form on the table next to the dog.
“What’s that?”
I said, “A copy of the search warrant request we’ll be filing for all your phone records covering the past two years. We’ll be compelling your telecommunications supplier to turn them over, or you can come talk to us formally at Manhattan North Homicide next week. That way you can also talk to the media at the same time.” I paused to let that sink in. I’ll admit I enjoyed the expression on his face. Then I hit him with “This is a homicide investigation. You don’t get to play the idealist who doesn’t stoop to talking to the police. You’re a damn wife beater. You’ve talked to the cops plenty of times.” Then I turned and started to march out of the examination room.
Before I was completely out of the room, Sloan said, “C’mon, wait a second. I can take a break and talk to you.”
I had to keep facing away from him so he wouldn’t see the broad smile on my face.
Chapter 77
I LINGERED IN the doorway with my back to the veterinarian. Suddenly I understood why Al Pacino overacted in everything. It was fun. I could see where an audience would’ve made it even more entertaining for me.
I spun on my heel. Sloan tried to act cool and nonchalant by continuing to treat the bulldog. Finally, he looked up from the dog and said, “No need to let this get out of hand. I’ll talk to you.”
The vet kept petting the dog’s head and said, “Do you want to tell me what homicide you’re investigating?”
“In fact, it’s three homicides.”
“I have no idea how I could help you with your investigation. I don’t think I’ve ever even known anyone who was murdered.”
“Most people don’t. Then again, most people don’t call The Girlfriend Experience.” That had the effect I wanted. I noticed Sloan gripped the bulldog’s collar with his right hand. The bulldog twisted slightly, trying to look at the vet.
The veterinarian started to get nervous. I could see it from the sweat on his forehead to the tremor in his hands. He mumbled, “The what?”
“You just tried to kick me out of here for mentioning it. The Girlfriend Experience. You know, you called the number from your cell phone several times over the last two years.”
It looked like the dog was starting to pick up on the veterinarian’s nervousness as well. I heard a little whimper as Sloan stared in the dog’s ear with a light. It felt a lot more like he was pretending to examine the dog rather than actually examining him.
Then the vet looked up and said, “Oh, yeah, the dating number.”
“I’d like to dance around with you all day if I had time. But I have things to accomplish. You know as well as I do how many times you’ve called that dating number.” Then I added, “Another reason we want to talk to you is that your son attends the Wolfson Academy. One of the girls who went to a dance some months ago at the academy also ended up dead. It seems like two pretty big coincidences, Dr. Sloan.”
“Tommy graduated from Wolfson last year. I wouldn’t know anything about a girl who went to a dance there.” The veterinarian dropped the light onto the hard, tile floor. I could hear the lens crack. Sloan muttered, “Damn,” as he picked it up. Then he fumbled with the lock to a cabinet and started looking at tiny vials of medicine, preparing a syringe with the contents of one of them. He continued to avoid looking at me.
I wondered if I should keep going or wait until Terri Hernandez finished her phone call. It felt like I was on a roll, so I went with it.
“Where’s your son now, Dr. Sloan?”
“Philadelphia.”
“Is that where he’s attending college?”
Even with just a side view of his face, I could see the veterinarian looked absolutely crestfallen. “No, I’m afraid not. He’s actually in jail.” He looked back like he expected me to ask more questions. When I didn’t, he said, “Tommy, um, had a misunderstanding with a girl.”
“I wonder where he learned that.”
“It’s a bullshit rape charge. Typical police shenanigans.” He was definitely getting worked up. He knocked over an empty coffee cup sitting on the counter and ignored it as he returned to the dog’s side, once again taking hold of his collar.
I noticed him start to glance toward the door. I’d seen that look before. I asked him my next question. “Did you ever call The Girlfriend Experience from a different phone?”
The veterinarian spluttered and mumbled so badly I couldn’t understand him. He was working himself into a nervous breakdown. Or at least a pretty good imitation of one. I liked it.
Chapter 78
I ASSESSED DR. Sloan to judge how far I should take this. Talking to someone when they’re this agitated can either produce great rewards or cause a lot of problems. I decided to push the envelope and see what happened.
I said, “Dr. Sloan, can I ask you about your previous domestic violence issues?”
“What domestic violence issues? I get along with my ex-wife and now I’m happily remarried.” His voice had raised not only in pitch but also in volume. He didn’t appear to notice at all.
I said, “I can bring up the reports on my phone if you’d like. But I’m specifically talking about when your ex-wife called the police and then two years later when your girlfriend at the time called the police. Now do you know what I’m talking about?”
“I was never charged. That has nothing to do with my life today.”
“Tell me about your life today.”
“Like I said, I’m remarried and we have a six-month-old baby. It’d be tough to explain any of this to my new wife.” The bulldog started to whine again. I wasn’t sure if the veterinarian’s grip on his collar was too tight or if it was something else.
I stepped forward to comfort the dog. I started to pet his head to keep him calm as Sloan seemed to prep a spot on his hind leg for the syringe. I’d gotten enough used to the smell that it wasn’t pushing me out the door anymore. The move to the dog also put me closer to Sloan. Almost inside his personal space. Just to give him one more thing to think about instead of lying to me.
I said, “You never told your new wife about your encounters with the police?”
“Why would I do that? It was just a big misunderstanding.”
“Exactly like your son?”
The French bulldog was becoming more and more agitated. I leaned down as I petted him and started to talk softly, hoping it would have an effect on the dog.
Sloan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I glanced toward the door, wondering when Terri Hernandez was going to come in so I could really turn up the heat on this guy.
I said, “Can you see why we need to talk to you? There’s a lot to clear up. If you had nothing to do with the homicides, we’re not interested at all in the dating service.”
“But can you guarantee me it wouldn’t make it into the media? A weird allegation like I called a dating service could kill my business.”
“I can’t make that guarantee. Any reports I write are eventually released to the public. But we have to talk or you’ll have this hanging over your head forever.”
I looked up from the bulldog, wondering when he was going to give the dog the shot. Just as I raised my head, I realized the veterinarian was right next to me. Then I felt the stinging pain in my neck. I shoved Sloan hard. He knocked over a small table. The clanging of the instruments as they hit the tile floor sounded like an untalented orchestra warming up. The noise was tremendous. He stumbled past the fallen table and caught himself on a counter.
I reached up and felt the syringe still in my neck. Then I noticed my vision starting to double. I could barely read Sloan’s expression of terror. I’m not sure he knew what he was doing.
Sloan said something, then bolted out the door of the examination room. I tried to keep a grip on the bulldog’s collar as he squirmed to leap off the examination table. I fought the feeling of panic rising in my stomach.
Chapter 79
I STRUGGLED TO stay upright as I urged the dog into a sitting position on the table. Still gripping his collar, I yanked out the syringe and tried to focus enough to spot the tiny vial Sloan had left on the counter. I made my way around the table toward it. I needed to show it to whoever found me. Unless it was some kind of fatal concoction. Then they’d find the vial in my pocket.
It was much harder to pick up the vial as my head started to spin. Then the bulldog started to wail. It sounded like something out of a horror movie. It was wildly disconcerting in my altered state.
I needed to chase the veterinarian. I finally managed to corral the vial and stick it into my pocket. I even took a second to lift the dog off the examination table and set him gently on the floor. I couldn’t risk him trying to jump the four feet to the hard floor and injuring himself.
I bumped into the doorframe as I tried to scoot out of the examination room, closing the dog inside. I bounced off the walls in the hallway like a pinball as I headed toward the front door. Now I felt a little nausea, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the injection or my anxiety over what I had been injected with.
I finally made it to the front reception area. Now my vision seemed to be dimming. I fumbled with the doorknob on the front door. Even something as simple as that taxed my dexterity. Finally, I stepped outside and looked up and down the street. Nothing seemed to make sense. I thought I saw a figure running away.
Terri was at the corner of the building, still speaking on the phone. I tried to call her name but wasn’t able to form a word. She finally looked up and saw me.
Terri said, “Oh, my God.” She dropped the phone into her purse and rushed toward me. I pointed in the direction of the running figure.
I somehow managed to say, “Catch Sloan.” Terri eased me onto the step in front of the veterinary clinic. She pulled an NYPD radio from her purse.
I could feel my consciousness slipping away. I heard Terri almost shout into the radio, “Columbus Avenue and 100th, Columbus Avenue and 100th, 10-13. Ambulance required.”
The sharp dispatcher picked up on the urgency in Terri’s voice. I could hear her say, “We have a 10-13 at Columbus Avenue and West 100th Street. Clear the air.”
Even in my current state, I knew cops would start racing to us from all over Manhattan. Suddenly, I couldn’t feel my legs. I drifted in a dream. I heard Terri giving Sloan’s description. “White male, running south on Columbus Avenue. His name is Thomas Sloan.”
Next thing I knew, I thought I was holding Mary Catherine’s hand as she was undergoing some sort of medical procedure. I heard singing. Or maybe it was sirens.
Then everything went dark.
Chapter 80
MY SENSES CAME back to me piecemeal. I could hear a little, then the darkness became a little lighter. I could feel activity around me. I could even sense that I was in a well-lit room. I had snatches of consciousness and knew I’d ridden in an ambulance. I’d also heard a lot of radio traffic. That’s a little unusual for a homicide detective. We’re not typically in the thick of things. But I guessed somehow I’d managed to get right in the middle of everyone’s day.
I opened my eyes and blinked. It felt like I had sand on my eyeballs, they were so dry. The same thing with my throat. I tried to swallow, but I had nothing to swallow. Everything in the room was just haze and shadow.
Someone gave me an ice chip, which felt like heaven in my mouth. A woman’s voice said, “Can you sip some water?”
My eyes fluttered, and I took an involuntary deep breath. It just sort of got sucked in like I was in a deep sleep and snoring. I nodded my head, hoping that whoever had asked me about the sip of water understood I was ready. I felt a cup at my lips, and the few sips of water that entered my mouth ran straight down my throat like a waterfall.
I heard another female voice. She had an accent I couldn’t identify immediately. She repeated my name. “Mr. Bennett, Mr. Bennett, Mr. Bennett, can you hear me?”
I nodded. The room was starting to come into focus quickly now. There was a young woman with light hair and in blue surgical scrubs. She was holding a cup of water. Another woman stood right next to my bed. She wore a white coat and had black hair.
The woman in the white coat said, “You’re going to be okay. You’re in the emergency room of Mount Sinai.”
I was able to cough out, “Mount Sinai Morningside?” I don’t know why it mattered. That’s just what popped into my scrambled brain.
She shook her head and her dark hair swayed. “No, Mount Sinai on Madison. They decided it was faster to bring you here because of traffic. I’m Dr. Hoang. Do you know what happened?”
I nodded. “Suspect stabbed me with a syringe.”
“We found the vial in your pocket. That was very smart. It was ketamine, a strong animal tranquilizer. You’re very lucky.”
I tried to sit up in the bed. “If this is lucky, I’d rather be good.” Neither of my attendants got the reference to the old adage Better to be lucky than good. Then I managed to say, “Did they catch Sloan?” I was starting to feel better by the second.
The doctor wasn’t sure what I was talking about. She asked me if I was feeling up to seeing visitors. Once I nodded, she opened the door, and I was glad to see Terri Hernandez and Harry Grissom rush into the room.
Terri didn’t need to be asked. She said, “A patrol officer picked up Sloan three blocks away from his clinic. He’s being booked now.”
Harry spoke up. “He’s being charged with attempted murder. He had no way of knowing how you’d react. There’ll be all kinds of assault charges as well.”
Then the door to my room burst open again. Mary Catherine appeared with the light from the hallway framing her blond hair and freckled face. In my current state, she looked a lot like an angel.
Mary Catherine didn’t exactly sound like an angel as she marched in, though. She pointed directly at Harry Grissom and Terri Hernandez. “You two need to leave right now. Michael needs his rest. He needs his family.”
Harry started to say something, but Mary Catherine cut him off.
She said in a sterner voice, “Sorry, Harry. That’s the way it’s going to be today. You can talk work when Michael’s feeling better.”
All I could think about was Sloan attacking me. The needle piercing the skin of my neck. It might take me a while to get over this one.
I was conscious enough to see Terri realize it was time to go. She gave Mary Catherine a quick kiss on both cheeks and Harry a slight shove toward the door.
Then Mary Catherine rushed to my side and started covering me with kisses.
Chapter 81
THE DAY AFTER my encounter with the sleazy veterinarian, I found myself in my apartment. My doctor had said I needed a minimum of two days’ at-home rest to make sure I had no adverse reactions. Mary Catherine had ordered me to comply whether I needed it or not. I may not always do what the NYPD or doctors want me to, but I rarely defy one of my wife’s commands. I have seen firsthand what happens to people who ignore Mary Catherine’s will.
My boss, Harry Grissom, had spent his career in the NYPD. During the course of that career, he’d been shot, stabbed, and run over by a drunk in a Lincoln Continental, he’d sat on a ledge for almost nine hours to stop a suicidal stockbroker, and he’d delivered two babies. I had never seen him show even a flicker of fear or hesitation.
Until he dared defy Mary Catherine when he showed up at our door with coffee and donuts.
My wife welcomed Harry into the apartment, but as soon as he asked me a few questions about what happened and where the case was going, Mary Catherine sprang into action like a club bouncer.
Harry not only listened to Mary Catherine’s command to stop talking about work but also jumped to his feet like he needed to stand at attention as she said, “We have to let Michael get his rest. He’ll call you tomorrow if he’s feeling up to it.” There were no questions in her voice. These were commands. They couldn’t be any more solid if they were chiseled into granite tablets. Her sweet Irish accent did nothing to soften them.
Mary Catherine led Harry out of the apartment in a friendly manner, but he had no chance to resist. There was something comical about the whole situation. That’s why I was laughing to myself when Mary Catherine came back and made me lie down on the couch.
“I feel fine. In fact, I slept really well last night.”
“And you’re going to sleep really well today. You’re going to let your mind clear and your body rest.” She looked at me like she expected me to argue. When I remained silent, she gave me a stern look and just added, “Or else.”
It was just about the first time I could remember not working on an open case in some capacity for more than a day. Incredibly, I had allowed Mary Catherine to shut off my phone. That meant calls had to come through the apartment. Mary Catherine could monitor those. She would’ve made a good prison guard.
