First to Fall (13 page)

‘Here you are, Mr. Connelly. I’m afraid that these aren’t the originals; we can only let photocopies out of the building you see. So these are yours to keep.’

Taking the files, Aiden thanked her and left, feeling slightly annoyed that he wasn’t being given access to the original files, feeling sure that this was just a ploy to keep something vital hidden from him.

Sat at his desk in his now cool office, Aiden began going over the police reports. Edmond was in court all day so he had the place to himself. Betty had bustled in and out with coffee a few times, but apart from that he was undisturbed.

There were no surprises amongst the reports. Brandon had, as Aiden had suspected, had a few run-ins with the law. Nothing too serious, a few DUIs, two counts of being drunk and disorderly in a public place. It was always the same outcome: Brandon was given a verbal warning and a smack on the wrist. Each time the arresting officer was Buck Fern. This was probably just a coincidence, since it was a small town with an equally small police department, but Aiden wasn’t convinced.

He flicked through the files until he found what he was looking for. March 18
^th
. He opened the folder and began to read.

At 11.52pm, a 911 call from a woman at a local residence saying she had been attacked. Possible domestic dispute. Sheriff Fern and Officers Bark and Simmons were dispatched to investigate.

Aiden read on…

Sheriff Fern arrived at the scene at 00.03am. Shortly followed by Officers Bark and Simmons. A young woman was severely wounded by cut glass from a fallen vase. No sign of foul play. Woman sent to St. Mary’s Hospital for further treatment. Outcome: severe accidental damage. No further investigation required.

The report was signed off by Buck Fern, but what intrigued Aiden was how the sheriff had arrived on the scene before his deputies. Had he quickly constructed a cover-up story with Brandon to protect him? It just didn’t add up. After March 18
^th
there were no further incidents, at least none that had been documented. Aiden thought about the second time that Brandy said she had ended up in hospital, when she had lost her baby, but there was no record of any police involvement that time.

Aiden wasn’t sure what to think, but he knew one thing, that Brandy was telling the truth. In his line of work, he rarely listened to his gut instinct, but this time his guts were screaming at him. It was clear that Brandon had beaten her, what he was unsure of was why anyone would want to cover it up. He read through the file again. St. Mary’s Hospital treated Brandy after the attack on her birthday. Perhaps the files that they held would have more answers; also, if they were the nearest hospital, it was logical to think that they had treated Brandy when she ‘fell down the stairs’.

‘Betty?’ He peered round his office door and could see the elderly lady typing away at her computer.

‘Oh, Mr. Connelly.’ She stopped immediately on hearing his voice. ‘Another coffee? I’ll get it for you right away!’

‘No, no coffee, thanks. I actually need directions as I’ll be out of the office this afternoon.’

‘Directions? Certainly. To where?’

‘St. Mary’s Hospital.’ Betty regarded him with a worried expression.

‘Is everything all right, Mr. Connelly?’

‘Yes, yes, everything is fine. I just need to go there, following a lead. It is all regarding the case.’

‘Oh right, yes, well St. Mary’s is a good few miles away. It will take you at least an hour to get there.’

Aiden checked his watch. It was already 2pm which didn’t leave him much time but he knew that he needed to go there.

‘It is always a bother for folks round here when they have to go to the hospital,’ she continued. ‘A couple of years ago, my left foot was playing up and I was back and forth for appointments. Ridiculous. Our doctor round here is too quick to send people for referrals. Good hospital though. Very modern.’ She was talking as the directions were printing out of the printer located by her feet. Once it had finished, she whipped out the sheet and handed Aiden the neatly typed directions.

‘I’m afraid we don’t have a map, but if you have any trouble at all, just call. Edmond often has to head over to St. Mary’s, usually with clients injured at work or whatever who want to file a complaint from their hospital bed! I tell you now, if I were in hospital a law suit would be the last thing on my mind! But you know how people are…’

‘Yes, well thank you, Betty.’

‘Watch how you go, Mr. Connelly.’

Betty watched the handsome young lawyer leave, knowing that if she were twenty years younger she would be offering to do a whole lot more than print directions for him, whether he was married or not. She sighed wistfully, her mind drifting away to indulge in memories of her youth. As Aiden drove away, she decided that her afternoon would be much better spent at home, rather than lingering in an empty office with only her memories for company. She promptly switched off her computer, slung her handbag over her shoulder and locked up Cope and May Solicitors at Law for the day. Any urgent legal matters the people of Avalon had would have to wait until the following day.

It was 3.15pm when Aiden pulled into the parking lot of St. Mary’s Hospital. Having been driving for just over an hour he felt groggy and tired. Luckily, the cool, crisp air that greeted him as he exited his car quickly revived him from his daze. As Betty had told him, St. Mary’s was an impressive, modern hospital. However, now that he was here, he was unsure where to go. He decided that Reception would be his best bet.

‘Yes?’ The receptionist, a fat man with an acne-ridden face and glasses, was clearly not interested in Aiden’s response.

‘I was wondering if you could help me?’ he began.

‘Patient name?’ the man said in a dead pan voice, as if it was the hundredth time today he had been approached with the same query.

‘No, I’m not looking for a patient. I’m looking for the…archive section…where files for past patients are kept.’

The man eyed him with disdain.

‘I’m a lawyer,’ Aiden explained, hoping to hurry the guy up a bit. The receptionist rolled his eyes in a bored manner and began typing into his computer.

‘Down the corridor, left, three doors down on the right.’

‘Right, OK, thanks.’ Aiden headed off along the hospital corridors, following the directions until he came to a door labelled Patient Enquiries. He reasoned that this must be the place and knocked briskly on the door.

A middle-aged woman with a blonde perm answered. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Yes, I hope so, I need to have access to some files on someone who was a patient here.’

‘That sort of information is classified,’ she said as she eased the door behind her closed, as if fearing that Aiden was some crazy man who would rush her at any moment in an attempt to get to the files she presided over.

‘I’m the lawyer of the patient in question.’

‘I see, so you have made an appointment to view the files and have written consent from your client?’

‘Well…no.’ Aiden was starting to feel very foolish. He was all too aware of protocol when it came to the disclosure of sensitive information. He had been careless and too impetuous in heading out here without properly thinking it through. He was better than this; it wasn’t like him to behave in such an unprofessional manner. However, now that he had come all this way he wasn’t prepared to leave empty-handed. He didn’t know if he would have the chance to come all the way out to St. Mary’s again before the trial, which was now just over a week away. He needed to see Brandy’s files; he had no time to waste.

‘The thing is…’ As he began the woman sighed, clearly annoyed that he was continuing to waste her time. ‘This is a highly sensitive, high-profile case. I couldn’t risk you knowing about my arrival in case the media got wind of it.’

‘I can assure you that we deal with all our patients with the highest level of confidentiality!’ she said indignantly.

‘I have no doubt.’ Aiden was uncomfortable conducting their conversation in the hospital corridor with people frequently bustling past them. ‘But it was a risk I couldn’t take. A woman’s life is at stake. I really have no time, please. I know I’m asking a lot of you.’ He flashed her his most dashing smile and it seemed to work as her shoulders sank in defeat.

‘Luckily for you, Mr….’

‘Connelly.’

‘Luckily for you, Mr. Connelly, I’m in a good mood today. I can give you twenty minutes with the files you want, no more.’ He thanked her as she opened the door and led him into a small room which was a hallway to another room, currently locked. This door was flanked by two desks, at one of which the woman presumably sat. She instructed Aiden to make himself comfortable at the other as she went to get his requested files. When he said Brandy’s name he watched for any flicker of recognition but she didn’t show any signs of being aware of the scandal. But then this wasn’t Avalon, Brandy’s case was probably small news, if newsworthy at all.

It wasn’t long before Aiden was gazing down at the patient files for Brandy White née Cotton. Her patient history wasn’t that extensive. The incident with the glass vase had been her first admission. She had been treated for severe cuts and abrasions, needing numerous stitches and a blood transfusion. She was then kept in under observation for two nights. As he scanned the notes he saw that at one point there had been a request by the on-call doctor for a psychiatric consultant to come and see Brandy. They must have thought that she had done it to herself. However, she was discharged before she was seen. It was noted that her body was covered in multiple bruises which weren’t related to the smashed vase accident, but the doctor seemed to reach the wrong conclusion, that Brandy was self-harming. There was no connection made to Brandon at all.

The second time Brandy had been admitted was when she had lost her baby. The report made for more interesting reading:

Female, 22, came in after falling at home. Took a huge blow to the stomach. Was measuring at 24 weeks pregnant. Emergency ultra sound shows that baby did not survive the blow. Female also has numerous lacerations and bruising on body consistent with self, or inflicted abuse.

Note – to contact Avalon police department in order to pursue further enquiry after discharge.

Aiden re-read the last statement, shock and surprise surging through his body. So, the hospital made the connection and contacted Buck Fern. And what did he do about it? According to the police files, he did nothing. But here was proof that he was aware of the situation of the young White couple. The old sheriff was undoubtedly withholding information from Aiden.

‘May I please take a copy of this?’

‘Yes, if you are quick, the copier is just there.’ The woman pointed to a bulky machine in the far corner. Aiden hurriedly made a copy of both documents.

‘Thank you so much,’ he told her as he gathered his things to leave. ‘You may well have just saved somebody’s life.’

When Aiden arrived home, drained and exhausted, his tea lay waiting on the table and a sleeping Isla and Meegan were laid out on the couch. It was fairly late – past seven – when he got in, he had got stuck in traffic, so he just sat down to eat his dinner alone.

He must have made too much noise as a grumpy-looking Isla soon came in to join him, rubbing her eyes.

‘I had tea ready at half five as you had said you’d be finishing early today. I called the office but there was no one there.’

‘Sorry, babe,’ Aiden mumbled between mouthfuls.

‘Where were you?’

‘At the hospital.’

‘The hospital?’ He got up and fetched himself a beer and took a deep, refreshing swig from the bottle before answering his wife.

‘Don’t worry, I’mOK, it was to do with the case.’

‘The case, oh, of course,’ she said bitterly.

‘Don’t be like that.’

‘You could have let me know you’d be home late.’

‘I got stuck in traffic.’ Isla was pouting in annoyance. He reached out across the table and grabbed her hand. ‘I’m sorry, I should have called. But thanks so much for dinner, honey, it is just what I needed.’

‘Well, thank God dinner is on the table!’ Isla yelled, pulling away from his hand and rising to her feet. ‘I’m just being a good little wifey and doing my bit for my big, working husband!’

‘Isla, calm down, you’ll wake Meegan.’

‘Well, you don’t want that, because then you’ll have to bother yourself with putting her to bed, best she stay sleeping! Makes it easier for you, maybe I should have just stayed asleep too!’

‘You’re being ridiculous,’ he snapped angrily. Fatigue was setting in and he hadn’t the energy to argue with her but she was testing his patience.

‘No, you are the ridiculous one, Aid. Coming home at all hours and thinking it is fine!’

‘All hours, Isla, it is seven! I used to come home much later than this in Chicago!’

‘But this isn’t Chicago, is it? I was happy in Chicago. I knew who I was in Chicago, I wasn’t trying to be some housewife that I’m not! I’m lonely here, Aid. You are supposed to be home at a decent hour!’ Their raised voices woke Meegan who promptly burst into tears.

‘Now look what you’ve done!’ Isla screamed at him.

‘Me?’ he asked in disbelief. With a huff, she stormed off into the lounge to comfort their daughter. Aiden shook his head wearily and drained his beer bottle.

Outside, dusk had settled in and shadows were fading fast. Soon it would be dark. Aiden enjoyed the dark void that came with night. When all colour was drained from the world, it felt as though the earth died, and each morning, with sunshine, she was reborn. A new start. Aiden’s new start in Avalon wasn’t going as well as he’d planned, but this was just the adapting period. Soon his family would feel more settled here and life would fall into a comfortable rhythm. For now, he was just riding out the storm of Isla’s mood swings. He contemplated following her into the lounge and attempting to make up but he didn’t see the point. He had done nothing wrong and wanted nothing more than to enjoy a deep, dreamless sleep. He headed upstairs to bed as Isla sat rocking Meegan back and forth, the little girl calm once more. When Aiden’s head hit the pillow he left this world for another, and for eight blissful hours, everything felt perfect.