Star Chamber Brotherhood (35 page)

The nurse examined them briefly and returned them. Werner remained calm. From experience, he knew that the IDs would withstand all but the most professional visual inspection, though they lacked the electronic features of genuine documents.

“I’m here in place of Doctor Holt, who wasn’t available,” Werner explained with a tolerant smile. “The monitor went off as I was adjusting it. A few moments ago I gave Mr. Rocco an injection of midazolam to help him sleep. If you like, I can leave you a journal article about combining morphine with midazolam to relieve dyspnea in severely injured patients. And I’m also going to leave you with five single-dose vials of low-strength midazolam to tide you over until you can pick up more from the pharmacy tomorrow. Use one vial each time the patient wakes up prematurely, not to exceed one injection every four hours. Do you have any questions?”

Werner held out a small plastic sack containing the vials and the article. The nurse accepted them but her eyes still exuded mistrust. Her eyes wandered to the bed, where something appeared to catch her attention.
 

She stepped closer to Rocco and found the disc with the black star.
 

“What’s this?” she demanded as she picked it up to examine it.

“Oh, it must have dropped out of my pocket. Here, I’ll take it,” Werner replied with indifference.

“Yes, but what is it, Doctor?”

“Something my granddaughter gave me,” he responded without flinching. “It’s not important. Keep it if you like.”

She hesitated but relented and gave it back.
 

“I’m sorry, Doctor Avery, but Mr. Rocco has been the victim of a criminal attack. Sergeant Shea and I have instructions to take every precaution to guarantee the patient’s safety. I’m sure you won’t mind if I call the Medical Center to verify your credentials.”

She reached for the telephone on the bedside table.

“Suit yourself,” Werner replied. “I can give you the Pain Management Department’s direct number to save time.”

“Thanks, I already have it,” she countered with a challenging look.

Nurse Mallory dialed a preset number and waited for an answer. When it came, Werner stepped closer but she backed away as if to prevent him from hearing the voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes, this is Meaghan Mallory, the visiting nurse for one of your patients, Frederick Rocco,” she said upon getting through. “That’s right, we’re on Commonwealth and I’m dialing from the apartment. We were expecting a visit from Dr. Linda Holt of your department but instead we have a Dr. Kevin Avery here. He said that Dr. Holt was unavailable.”

There was a half minute’s pause while the nurse listened attentively to the person she had reached in the Pain Management Department.

“Doctor Avery’s description? Well, yes, he’s a large man, over six feet, on the trim side, looks to be in his mid-fifties, with sort of a weathered complexion, horn-rimmed glasses…”

For what seemed to Werner like an eternity, Nurse Mallory pursed her lips, nodded, and glanced back at him with a concerned look. Then she drew a deep breath before responding to the voice on the other end.

“I’m terribly sorry, Dr. Holt, I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting. No, really, that won’t be necessary. Dr. Avery is already with the patient and everything seems to be under control. Yes, he should be on his way very shortly. I do so appreciate your help, Doctor.”

With a sheepish expression the redheaded fury replaced the phone in its cradle.

“I believe I owe you an apology, Doctor Avery,” she offered. “I hope you won’t take offense. You see, we have strict instructions not to let any strangers into the apartment.”

“Not at all,” Werner answered with a magnanimous smile. “In your place I would have done the same. Now, if you don’t mind, I must get back to the Medical Center. House calls are not something I have the luxury of performing very often. I expect the patient will rest easily now. He should not be disturbed.”
 

“But don’t you want me to monitor the effects of the new medication, Doctor?” she persisted.

“Only if you consider it necessary. Now, unfortunately, I’m running late for a meeting. If you require anything else from me, please have me paged.”

 
The nurse’s face still bore a troubled expression as Werner turned to leave but, as she had done so many times over the years, she let go and deferred to authority.

Werner retraced his steps along the corridor past the treasures in Fred Rocco’s living room and thanked Sergeant Shea for opening the door to the landing. At last when the door closed door behind him he felt as if his entire body had gone limp. His hand trembled as he pressed the elevator call button and the electric motor began to whir. And while the indicator light above the door advanced from one to two to three, he felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead and upper lip and dripping down the back of his neck.
 

The moment the doors slid open Werner stepped in. But in that eternal interval before the sliding doors closed again, Werner watched the apartment door reopen and the burly policeman rush into the hall. He could not escape.

“Doctor, come quick!” the officer urged. “Something’s wrong with Mr. Rocco!”

By supreme force of will, Werner mustered the will to conceal the fear and dread that radiated in waves from the pit of his stomach. He had no choice but to follow Sergeant Mallory back to the bedroom, where the vital signs monitoring alarm beeped and flashed at full volume. He found Nurse Mallory astride Rocco on the bed trying to resuscitate him.
 

“What the hell did you do to him?” she confronted Werner, her green eyes blazing with anger. “He’s nearly stopped breathing and his pulse is failing. And why did you tamper with the vital signs monitor?”

“Never mind the monitor,” Werner answered decisively. “Get off the bed and keep up the CPR as best you can until I tell you to stop.”

He turned now to the policeman.

“Sergeant, we’ve got to get the patient to the hospital. Call an ambulance and then help me wheel him out to the elevator.”

Werner disconnected the IV drip from Rocco’s wrist before removing the blood pressure cuff and the leads to the heart rate and respiration monitors. Placing his doctor’s bag on the bed, he and Sergeant Shea unlocked the bed’s wheels and guided it out of the guest room and along the corridor to the elevator with Nurse Mallory following close behind.

When they arrived, Werner and the nurse maneuvered the bed into the waiting elevator while the plainclothesman took to the stairway.

The moment the doors closed and the cabin began its descent, the nurse challenged Werner more heatedly than ever.

“What in God’s name is going on here?” she demanded. “Who the devil are you, anyway, and why haven’t you even attempted to administer a reversing agent? Nobody gives midazolam without having flumazenil on hand. You should know that. By God, when we get to the emergency room I’m going to get to the bottom of this!”

Werner gave her a knowing look but he sensed that his confidence tricks might have lost their effectiveness with her.
 

“There will be time enough for questions when we get to the hospital, Nurse Mallory,” he remarked coldly. “I suggest we focus on getting the patient there alive.”

Before she could reply, the elevator reached the ground floor with a bump and the doors opened onto the lobby. Sergeant Shea stood a few meters away speaking to someone on his two-way radio.
 

“The dispatcher says it’ll be another five to ten minutes before the next ambulance can reach us,” he announced with a worried look.
 

“We don’t have that long,” the nurse protested.

“Okay, then let’s flag down a car,” Shea responded, pointing to Sam Tucker’s Honda idling outside the front door. Werner and the nurse guided the mobile bed out of the elevator and onto the sidewalk while the plainclothesman ran around to Sam’s window and motioned for him to lower it.

“We have a very sick man here, Sir,” the Sergeant told Tucker. “He needs to go to the hospital immediately. Will you take us?”
 

Sam Tucker cast a questioning look at Werner, who nodded quickly and looked away.

“Sure, if you say so,” Tucker replied in confusion.

“Put him in the front seat,” Werner directed.
 

Werner and Shea each took one of Rocco’s arms and lifted him gently off the bed.

“Careful with his spine,” Werner directed. “No sudden movements. Just follow my lead. Now, driver, I want you to lay the seat as flat as you can. And nurse, sit wherever you have the best angle to administer CPR. While you’re getting settled, I’ll go fetch my bag.”

The moment the nurse’s back was turned, Werner stepped back from the Honda and took off at a run. Hearing rapid footfalls, Sergeant Shea raised his head in time to see Werner approaching the corner. He stepped free of the car, raised his service pistol, and called for Werner to freeze.

In another second Werner would be around the corner and out of sight. The policeman considered the risk of hitting an innocent bystander and lowered his pistol.

But at the very moment when Shea’s finger left the trigger, the driver of the parked car nearest the corner Werner was approaching stepped out onto the pavement and leveled a pistol at Werner from less than three meters away. Werner stopped and raised his hands over his head, his chest heaving, mouth agape, and eyes wide with shock.

The gunman, a tall, lean man in his mid-forties with military-length, salt-and-pepper hair and a darkly handsome face, stepped onto the sidewalk and ordered Werner to turn around. Werner did so without objection.
 

The man holding the pistol was Hector Alvarez.

Sergeant Shea saw the action and came quickly but Alvarez waved him off.

“I read your radio message, Sergeant. You stay with the principal and get him to the hospital fast. I’ll call for backup here and bring the suspect in. Now, go!”

“Hurry, Sergeant!” the nurse called from the Honda. “He’s slipping away! We’ve got to go!”

Werner watched Sergeant Shea race back to the Honda and heard the doors slam shut. He caught his breath while Tucker’s Honda took off with screeching tires.

Alvarez confronted Werner with a grim expression. Bystanders up and down Commonwealth Avenue had stopped to watch and some were approaching to offer their help.

“Keep your hands up and get in the car, fast,” Alvarez ordered quietly. “We can talk after we get out of here.”
 

Hector Alvarez pushed Werner into the car at gunpoint and drove off before the neighbors could figure out what was happening.

The Toyota had traveled a block before either man spoke.

“My God, Hector, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Werner began with a nervous laugh. “How on earth did you get here?”

“You really didn’t think I would leave you alone to finish Rocco off after all we’ve been through together?” Alvarez began.
 

“But you were in Cuba! How could you have known?”

“I checked the news from Boston and figured out that Rocco still wasn’t dead. So I came back as soon as I could and parked outside his place to find out who came and went while I listened to the police radio. Didn’t you see the signal I left you yesterday?”

Werner cast a nervous glance out the window through the rearview mirror but saw no flashing blue lights.

“Sorry, Hector,” he confessed. “I didn’t even think to look.”

Werner heaved an enormous sigh of relief and slowly removed his glasses, bow tie, and jacket, tucking the glasses into his breast pocket and laying the tie and jacket across the back seat.
 

“Too bad about the doctor’s bag,” he commented with sincere regret. “I borrowed it from a friend. There’s nothing traceable in it, but I promised her I’d bring it back in one piece. I know it’s just a loose end, but…”

Werner froze in mid-sentence.

“Wait, talk about loose ends!” he exclaimed. “I forgot about Sam! We have to find him at the hospital and get him out of there!”

“Who’s Sam?” Alvarez asked with a vacant look.

“He’s the third man on our team. He was going to be my getaway driver. And now he’s the guy driving Rocco to the emergency room, for God’s sake!”

“Okay, let’s turn around,” Alvarez agreed. “The Medical Center is only five minutes away. I’ll hop out a block from the emergency entrance and look for him. I caught a good look at him when he drove up. When I get out, you take the wheel and meet me on the corner of Mass. Ave. and Harrison in half an hour.”

Alvarez turned right at the next intersection and right again onto Newbury Street, heading west. But as they approached Massachusetts Avenue, traffic slowed and it took them ten minutes to negotiate the left turn. As they inched their way north toward the I-90 overpass and Boylston Street, they spotted the flashing lights of a police cruiser in the distance.
 

A quarter of an hour passed while they crawled toward their destination. They soon despaired of reaching the hospital in time to find Tucker. At last they drew abreast of the flashing lights and saw the wreck that had stalled traffic. It was a gray Honda, the front end crushed like an accordion where it has crashed head-on into a concrete bridge support. An ambulance had pulled up alongside. Three bodies lay on the ground draped in sheets and a fourth was being strapped into a stretcher. It was a nurse in a white uniform.