Part 25 House of Cards
Mark did not answer straight away, instead he went and retrieved the pile of newspapers for the past week. He hadn't paid as much attention to them as he would normally have done, when working on a case like this, because of their reports on Steve, and had only really started reading again once he was a patient himself in the hospital, now he hoped that they had the information he was looking for. He took the Sunday edition himself, it contained details of the victims, and handed the papers for the day after the attack on Steve to Amanda and Jesse. They just watched silently, waiting for the explanation that they knew would come.
"That's what's been bothering me for the last few days but I couldn't quite bring it to mind. There was too much else going on at the time." He looked at Jesse. "Do you remember when Steve was attacked in the hospital by Mary Ryland's father?"
Jesse nodded as the painful image of the frenzied beating his friend had taken, and of having to drag off the distraught attacker with Mark's help, was brought to mind.
"Well after it we were too busy taking care of Steve to take much notice of what was happening," Mark continued, he did not mention his own emotional collapse. "but I did get to glance at the reports in the paper the next day. I didn't read them properly because of their bias, but I remember seeing the piece about Mary Ryland's father being arrested and the photograph of him and his wife being taken away in Nathan's car. That means that neither of them was at the clinic on the night of the attack. Now Mary Ryland was just twelve years old..."
"So why was she at Dr. Evan's clinic without either of her parents," Amanda completed, catching on to his line of thinking.
Mark nodded. "If either of them had been there they would have been caught up in the massacre."
"Maybe they were both working?" Jesse suggested.
Mark shook his head, Dr. Taylor had been right about him not missing a detail it had just taken him a while to put these details together. "No, her mother only works mornings and her father owns his own business, he could have taken time off if his daughter was sick, besides her appointment was at a quarter to six on a Saturday, so there's no reason why either of them couldn't have taken her."
"A prior commitment, maybe dinner or the theatre or something?" Amanda asked
Mark shook his head again. "No, if the parents were out enjoying themselves when all this happened then the papers would have made something of it."
He looked thoughtfully down at the picture of the young girl on the front page of the paper he was holding. He was never sure why he picked up on certain details that seemed insignificant to other people, wasn't sure now why he was getting so excited about this, Amanda had just postulated a perfectly reasonable explanation for the facts, and yet he knew that somehow the death of this young girl held the key to solving the case.
"OK," Amanda said, indicating the paper in front of her. "What are we looking for?"
"Anything that indicates why she was there and who she was with."
The three spent the next few minutes poring over the newspapers, before Jesse let out a gasp. "I think I just got the answer and a whole lot more questions."
Amanda and Mark turned to look at him expectantly.
"Mary Ryland was at the clinic with her maternal aunt Jennifer Thorson, who was also killed in the massacre." Jesse said, rechecking the details in the article in front of him. "Jennifer Thorson was married to David Thorson who works out of the DA's office as a state prosecutor "
Mark looked gratified, that was too much to be coincidence, every instinct told him that they had indeed found something that would break the case. He cursed himself for not going through these newspaper reports more thoroughly earlier in the week. If he'd read the article that Jesse now held in his hand or if he'd asked Nathan to check on the background of the other victims at the clinic they might have picked up on this coincidence sooner.
It was at this point that a chilling idea occurred to him. It was entirely possible that Steve had been set up from that first night to divert attention from what was really going on, the accusations of negligence, his arrest, all designed to prevent these facts being noticed. As he started to put all of the evidence from the last few days together it began to look like a cover up on a much larger scale than just one doctor trying to cover his involvement in a murder. He looked determinedly at his companions. "OK let's see if we can pick up anything else."
--
It was 9.30 by the time Nathan pulled his car into the drive at the beachhouse and he tried to stifle a yawn. The call from Mark had come at around midnight and it had resulted in a long list of tasks for him to fulfil. He hadn't made it into bed until around 1 a.m. and he had been up again at the crack of dawn. His mood and his news however were entirely the opposite of the previous day and, although he was tired, his steps were light as he made his way to the door. Mark's questions and theories had led to some very interesting discoveries.
"Nathan," Amanda greeted him with a beaming smile. "Come in, we haven't been up long," she continued, leading him through to the dining table at the back of the house where Mark and Jesse sat sipping coffee.
The three men exchanged greetings and Nathan sat, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee that Amanda handed to him.
He shifted in his seat. "Is Steve around?" he asked not wanting to start until they were all assembled.
"He was still asleep the last time I checked," Amanda replied.
"Which must have been about half an hour ago," Steve said from the doorway. "I heard the doorbell," he added, as though he felt the need to explain his presence. He moved into the room and Amanda stood.
"Coffee?" She asked, already moving towards the kitchen
"Yes but I can." he let it tail off slightly. "Get it myself," he added as she handed him a cup.
"Hey make the most of it," Amanda smiled. "It's not everyday that you can get me to wait on you."
As Amanda and Steve settled themselves at the table Mark felt a surge of pleasure at the normality of the situation, surrounded by family and friends, the light banter, and the prospect of solving the case. It was almost enough to banish the anguish and fear of the last week.
Everyone looked expectantly at Nathan. "So what did you find out?" Mark asked.
"Well, enough that I made sure I didn't let anyone else know what I was looking for or that I was coming here this morning." Nathan replied, opening the file he brought with him. "I'm inclined to think that you're right and there is something very big going on here. For a start the records on this case are being closed out faster than any I've ever seen." He looked over at Steve. "You know what it's like, even when a case is closed the files and paperwork hang around on people's desks for days, sometimes weeks afterwards."
Steve nodded, his own paperwork usually ended up in the latter category.
"Well I got a memo this morning asking me to hand in my case files by the end of the day Fortunately, I was in early this morning so I managed to take copies without anyone else noticing." He looked at Mark. "You were asking about Jennifer Thorson and Mary Ryland."
"Yes, there's quite a long piece in the paper about the Ryland's but virtually nothing about the aunt who was also killed, and nothing about why either of them were there."
Nathan had been surprised when Mark had called and asked him to find out about these two victims in particular, given what he had found, however, his surprise had been short lived. He shook his head. "I'm afraid that I can't tell you anything more than you know, the papers have more in them than the police files."
"But they say virtually nothing," Jesse said, shifting forward in his seat.
Nathan turned to look at him. "I know, and since both of these people were victims of a violent crime, I would have expected there to be at least standard backgrounds, but it's not even recorded that Jennifer Thorson's husband works in the DA's office. There is no record of anyone interviewing him or even going out to tell him of his wife's death. "He looked at each member of his intent audience. "The only interview with the Rylands is the one I conducted about the attack on Steve. I assumed someone had already asked about their daughter but if they did there's no record of that either."
Mark's mind worked rapidly. The lack of information served as confirmation for his theories. There was some connection here, that someone did not want to be made.
"That's not the only anomaly," Nathan said after a slight pause to allow others to digest what he had told them. "On Saturday night Captain Newman assigned two officers to find out who had been speaking to the press, Detectives Malone and Walters," He looked at Mark again. "After what you said on the phone last night about the media being manipulated to divert attention, I checked out their report, they say they could find no evidence that anyone at the scene had spoken to anyone from the press. It doesn't even acknowledge the fact that the press reports carried information that could only have come from officers who went inside the clinic that night, The press stories are passed off as speculation based on officially released facts."
"If you add all this to the fact that the ballistics report went missing and the results of my autopsy were changed...." Amanda began.
"..Then it smacks of a cover up on a grand scale." Steve completed for her, not having been part of the previous evening's discussion he had been playing catch-up for most of the conversation, but now felt in a position to comment. "But what does all of this have to do with the death of a young girl and her aunt?"
"That's what we still need to find out." Mark stated. "I assume the medical records from the clinic gave no clue as to why they were there?"
Nathan looked at him and shook his head, then he remembered Mrs. Edmond's contribution from the day before. "Hold on a minute," he said taking the neatly folded piece of paper from the back of his notebook. He looked down the list. "Yes, here it is," he said pointing to a line on the paper. According to Mrs. Edmonds there were some sheets missing from Mary Ryland's file and," he pointed further down the sheet, "all details of Mrs. Thorson's last appointment had also been removed apart from on the backup disc. The Aunt was there last week but there are no details of why."
"So I guess the only option left to us is to talk to Mary's parents and see if they can shed any light on this," Amanda said.
Mark nodded, he was unsure what sort of reception they would get but, if they wanted to follow this up, it was their only choice. He looked first at Amanda "You and I'll go." Then he turned his attention to Steve and Jesse, "I have another job for you two."
--
Amanda pressed the doorbell and then stood back next to Mark, waiting patiently for an answer. She glanced up at the pleasant two story house and couldn't help but notice that the drapes were drawn, despite the fact that it was the middle of the day. They did not have to wait long for a response, The door opened a small amount, just enough for them to see the shadow of a woman's face.
"Yes?" the woman said, there was no attempt at politeness in the enquiry but it was not hostile either, just flat.
"Mrs. Ryland?" Mark asked moving his head so that she could get a clear view and so that he could see what little of her face was showing. He knew that to be invited in he may have to gain this woman's trust and a large part of that was done through eye contact. He received a barely perceptible nod in response to his question and so continued with his introduction. "I'm Dr. Mark Sloan, and this is Dr. Amanda Bentley and..."
"I know who you are," Mrs. Ryland interrupted, "just a moment." There was a pause whilst the chain was removed and the door was opened. "I'm sorry I have to be careful," she continued her tone still lifeless. "The press.. I'm sure you understand."
Mark nodded
There was a slightly awkward pause, as Mark waited to see if they would be invited in, but Mrs. Ryland was in a state of grief that precluded the thought of social niceties, in fact she was beyond all but the most obvious of actions.
"I know this is a difficult time for you," Mark said compassionately, he couldn't even contemplate the grief of losing a child, let alone one so young. "But I was wondering if we could ask you and your husband a few questions. We're trying to find out exactly why all of this happened."
There was a brief spark of life in Joan Ryland's eyes as Mark verbalised the question she had been trying to make sense of for the last week, why had all of this happened, but it quickly died. She nodded and indicated that they should enter.
Leading them to a darkened sitting room she informed them that she would fetch her husband, returning a few minutes later with a man who was a mere shadow of what he had once been.
The last time Mark had seen John Ryland, had been when he had attacked Steve, only a few days earlier, and the change in the man was dramatic. His skin was pale and sallow and there were large dark circles under his eyes, everything about him, from his stance to the way he moved, suggested defeat. He slumped onto the couch opposite, sitting on the edge, his shoulder's stooped. If Mark held any feelings of anger towards him for what he had done to Steve, they melted into compassion as he watched the pathetic figure in front of him. Clearly the man was not coping with the grief and the consequences of his attack on Steve
"Dr. Sloan," he began, his voice hesitant and laced with guilt. "I'm so very sorry about.. about your son.. I didn't mean... I'm sorry. I know now that he was only trying to help."
Mark was momentarily lost for words, despite his sympathy and understanding for the man's pain he could not emotionally detach the fact that he had nearly killed Steve with his attack, forgiveness was beyond him, but he needed to say something in reply to this apology. "I understand," was the best he could manage, "but we're really here because we need your help. We need to ask you about your daughter, Mary."
Joan Ryland had settled herself onto the couch next to her husband, she'd already taken his hand in hers, and Mark noticed the slight squeeze she gave at the mention of their daughter, clearly she had taken on the supportive role. She watched her husband for a moment before turning to answer him. "We'll tell you whatever we can, our daughter was our only child and she meant the world to us." she paused and glanced at her husband again before turning back to Mark and continuing. "If you can help to explain why this happened.." she let the sentence trail.
"Thank you," Mark said, "Could you tell us why your daughter went to the clinic that night?"
Mrs. Ryland shook her head, "I'm afraid I can't. Neither myself nor my husband knew that there was anything wrong."
Amanda and Mark exchanged glances, that was not an answer they had been expecting.
"She was with her aunt, your sister?" Amanda asked.
"Yes," Joan squeezed her husband's hand again, "John has been having a lot of problems with the business recently, I've been trying to help him sort them out. So Mary has. had," she corrected herself, "been spending weekends with her aunt and uncle, so that we were able to work."
Mark was carefully watching the reactions of the couple leaving Amanda to ask the questions for the moment.
"And your sister, Mrs. Thorson, she didn't ring you to tell you that there was a problem?"
"No."
"Was that unusual?"
Mrs. Ryland thought for a moment. "I would have expected her to let me know if there was something wrong, so I guess it must have been something minor."
"No," John Ryland spoke firmly but it was clearly an effort to control his emotions. "We both know that's a lie." He looked at his wife. "We knew that there was something wrong but we.. No, I was too busy to do anything about it." He turned to look at Mark and Amanda. "She didn't want to go last weekend, but I insisted, told her that I was too busy to argue with her. I was too interested in saving my damned business. It seemed so important at the time but now." He looked down at where his wife's hand held his and added his other hand to the grip, drawing strength from the contact.
"Were there any other signs that something was wrong?" Amanda asked gently.
Joan Ryland, drew her attention back from her husband. "Yes," she admitted, "Mary was quite quiet for the last few weeks and she'd started getting into trouble at school. We put it down to all the tension at home. John was facing bankruptcy if we couldn't turn things around."
"Better to have gone bankrupt than this," John Ryland said bitterly. He felt an overwhelming guilt that he had pushed his daughter away in the last few weeks of her life and would never get the chance to make it up to her. It was part of what had driven him into such a frenzy when he had spotted Steve at the hospital, taking his own guilt out on the person he thought had caused his daughter's death.
Joan Ryland put her other hand supportively on his arm. "We thought she was better for being out of the house, the atmosphere was always so tense."
Mark had heard enough to know that the Ryland's did not have the answers they sought. Prolonging this discussion would only cause them further distress, something they clearly did not need. "I'm sure that you were trying to do what was best for her." he said, beginning to stand. "Look, thank you, you've been very helpful at what is a difficult time."
"Is that all," Joan said, slightly surprised that they did not want to ask more questions.
"Yes," Mark replied, as Amanda followed his lead.
Joan Ryland stood, her husband did not move apart from to let go of her hand. "I'll show you out," she said.
Mark paused at the front door, there were a couple of things he still needed to ask but hadn't wanted to say them in front of Mr. Ryland. "There's just one thing. Is there anyone at school who Mary might have confided in? Anyone she might have told if there was something wrong?"
"Her best friend was a girl called Samantha Nairn. They were inseparable." Joan said only realising the connotations of the word after it had left her lips.
Mark watched as the woman in front of him once more tried to get used to the idea of talking about her daughter in the past tense. It was something that was going to take a very long time. He knew that he had intruded on her grief for long enough but the doctor in him wouldn't allow him to leave without asking one last question.
"Forgive me for asking, but has your husband seen a doctor."
Joan Ryland shook her head. "He refuses to, says he doesn't need one."
Mark looked at her and took a card out of his pocket, "Try to persuade him, if you call this number they'll give you a referral straight away."
Joan Ryland looked down at the card. "I'll try, thanks."
--
"We get all of the exciting jobs," Jesse said as he tried to feed the microfiche sheet into the machine. The sling on his injured arm made the task extremely awkward. "and since these records are only a few years old why haven't they been transferred to a computer database somewhere." He pointed at the aging reader, "This is hardly state of the art technology."
Steve shook his head. "Computer files are still too easy to corrupt, besides it could be worse, we could be trying to search through boxes and filing cabinets, at least this way we get to sit down."
Jesse nodded. "I guess, but these things give me a headache."
Steve placed the list of files that had been destroyed by the fire at the records office on the desk between them and began scanning for the correct reference code. It was ten minutes before either of them found anything. It was Steve who let out a gasp.
"Find something," Jesse asked unnecessarily.
"Oh, yes," Steve said, barely containing the anger in his voice as he analysed the information he had just read, his mind rapidly putting the pieces together. No wonder someone had tried to erase these files. Jesse moved over to read over his shoulder and let out a long slow breath. The two men looked at each other, no need for words the implications were in front of them. "OK, I guess now we know what we're looking for." Steve said.
Jesse nodded and returned to his screen with renewed enthusiasm.
--
Byron watched with some satisfaction as everyone left the house. It was just what he had been waiting for. Still, he was extremely cautious in his approach, the police guard had gone with Steve but that did not mean that there would not be regular patrols past the house.
He went in through Steve's apartment. Picking locks was a skill he had acquired at an early age but he rarely used it, he did not care for subtlety, preferring to announce his presence when he did something, but he was intelligent enough to know how to use it when it was needed and he was determined to enjoy this particular job. Peter had been so right when he said the Sloan's deserved to pay. He was only just beginning to realise what he had lost when Steve had killed Robert, possibly the only person that he had ever been genuinely close to, or cared anything about, inasmuch as he could care about anyone. The incident at the clinic had been his little brother's initiation into what was going to be the family business and now he was gone, leaving him with only pathetic wimps like Peter for company.
He was careful not to leave any trace that he had been there as he moved cautiously through the house, he had had plenty of time to plan this and this time nothing would go wrong.
It took him around half an hour to complete his work and plant the materials he had brought with him. He took one last look around to ensure that he hadn't left any traces of his activities before leaving the house, a satisfied smile on his face.
--
Steve pulled up in the cab outside the news station. He had dismissed the police guard, given what he had found out the young officer's presence wasn't making him feel any safer. He had managed to persuade Jesse to finish checking through the files and printing off the information they would need, but his own growing anger and sense of betrayal, made it increasingly difficult for him to concentrate. He had needed to get out and do something, so had decided to come and confirm his suspicions, although there was a part of him that just wanted to deny that the whole thing was possible.
He made his way into the building and over to the reception desk, where a young woman barely glanced up at him. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, I'd like to see a reporter named Kate McHale."
"Is she expecting you?"
"No, but I'm sure she would want to talk to me, my name is Steve Sloan, Lieutenant Steve Sloan."
The young woman recognised the name instantly, it had after all featured in their lead story for most of the week. She cursed herself for not looking at the man more closely. Now that she did, she recognised him, she had seen his picture often enough. The bored tone was dropped. She gestured to some chairs off to one side. "Please take a seat, I'm sure she'll be right down."
Less than a minute later a pretty young woman almost ran into the room, stopping at the reception desk where she was pointed in Steve's direction. She headed over to where he was sitting plastering a bright smile on her face. She held out her hand as he stood. "Lt. Sloan," she said slightly breathlessly. "I have to say I'm surprised, but honoured to see you here. I've been trying to get to talk to you all week." Her mind was working rapidly, if she could get an exclusive interview with Steve Sloan it could make her career.
"I need your help," Steve said, without preamble and not giving the reporter a chance to ask him any questions. "You broke the story about my presence in the clinic and about the breach of procedure."
"Yes," she replied, curiously.
"I need to know who gave you the information?"
"I'm afraid I can't help you. I never reveal my sources."
"Oh, but it would be in your best interests to do so on this occasion. I promise you there is a much bigger story here and if you help me I'll make sure you get an exclusive on it." At that moment Steve felt like he was making deals with the devil. This woman had after all helped to start the rumours that had almost got him killed, and had caused him and his father untold anguish, and yet he knew she was just a pawn in a much bigger game."
The reporter thought about his offer. "OK," she replied, "I'll tell you."
--
It had taken a great deal of persuasion but Mark and Amanda finally sat in the school guidance counselor's office opposite Samantha Nairn. The counselor sat to one side of her. Samantha's mother had given permission for them to talk to her daughter as long as the counselor was there with them.
Mark had started gently, asking her what she thought about school and how was she enjoying being in the seventh grade. He had then steered in to ask her about her friends before finally, once he felt he had the young girl's trust, getting round to asking the questions he really wanted answered.
"I understand Mary Ryland was one of your friends?" He asked.
Samantha nodded. "She was my best friend," she replied quietly.
"You know that we're here because we're trying to find out, why this happened to her."
The young girl nodded again, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.
"Mary was at the doctor's on Saturday night, do you know if she had been feeling ill?" Mark asked.
Samantha shifted in her chair, "No," she replied.
"But there was something wrong?"
Samantha thought about it for a few moments, she looked up at Mark. "She made me promise not to tell."
"I'm sure that given the circumstances, she wouldn't mind," Mark said softly, "I think she'd want people to know what happened."
Samantha thought again, the three adults waited patiently for her to speak. When she did her voice was barely audible. She looked down at the floor again. "She didn't tell me everything but I know she was afraid, she didn't want to go to her uncle's house. She said he was... he was.." She tried hard to put her friend's confidence into words but found that she couldn't. "She didn't want to tell her parents, she said they had too many problems. I told her she had to tell someone." She looked at the counselor and then back at Mark. "She said that she would. I think she was going to tell her aunt Jennifer." She was looking more and more distressed as she spoke. Again her eyes went to the counselor and back to Mark again. "I told her she should tell someone." She repeated, needing reassurance that she had done the right thing.
"It's all right," the counselor said reassuringly.
Samantha looked at her. "But it's not. She's dead," she stated as the tears began to fall.
Mark was shocked by what he had just heard but realised that he was not surprised, a part of his mind had already considered this as a possibility after his conversation with the Ryland's. His instincts had told him that Mary Ryland was at the root of the massacre and, if what Samantha had just implied were true, than it would give David Thorson the motive to kill both her and his wife if she had threatened to expose him. He was certainly now their prime suspect, but how had he managed to get Dr. Evans and so many others to assist him in the set up and the cover up that followed? Mark knew that they still needed more information.
They spent a few more minutes talking to Samantha, reassuring her before they left her in the capable hands of the guidance counselor. Once they were back in Amanda's car, Mark dialed Steve's cell phone but it was turned off so he tried Jesse's instead.
"Hi Jess, did you find out anything?" Mark asked when his young friend answered.
"Plenty," Jesse said, "I think we know how this whole thing was set up and who is involved, we just don't have the why."
"Well I think we can supply that," Mark glanced across at Amanda as he spoke. "Where's Steve?"
"He's down at the police station and that's where I'm headed now." Jesse replied.
"We'll meet you there then." Mark said hitting the disconnect. He had been about to ask lots of questions but the fact that Steve had gone to the station threw him. He turned to Amanda and told her of their change in destination.
--
Detective Jason Walters walked into the locker room and headed straight for his locker. It had been a long day and all he wanted was to get cleaned up and head home. He opened the door not really paying any attention to anyone else in the room but, as he emptied something out of his top pocket, he suddenly had the feeling that he was being watched. He looked past the locker door and saw that there was someone leaning against the wall staring at him. It took a moment for him to recognise Steve Sloan but as he did so an icy chill gripped his spine. He pushed his locker door closed and forced an air of joviality.
"Hey Steve," he said, smiling, "I didn't know you were back, didn't think they'd let you out of the hospital yet." He took a step forward.
Steve did not reply he just continued to stare, his face an impassive mask.
Jason took another step forwards forcing his tone to remain light. "So, is this just a visit or are you back with us?" He asked. Still Steve did not reply. "Hey what's the matter buddy? Cat got your tongue?"
Steve shifted as Jason came slightly closer. "Why?" he said, his voice tight, "Just tell me why?"
"Why, what," Jason asked, forcing himself to continue acting, despite the way Steve was behaving towards him. The only logical conclusion was that Steve knew about him, but he didn't want to believe that so he kept up the pretense. "I don't understand, what do you want to know?"
Steve pushed himself off the wall, he could no longer reign in the emotions completely and the hostility bristled from him. "You're a good detective, you have..you had a good career. Why get involved."
Jason turned away as he attempted to control his own facial expression. Sloan knew all right but how much? He tried to continue the denial. "Get involved in what? I don't know what you're talking about."
It was Steve's turn to step closer. "You fed me to the press Saturday night, told them I was there, told them I'd broken with procedure, told them I was responsible for the shootings starting You even told them what I said that night before I collapsed." Steve said, his voice bitter with betrayal. "And then you filed a false report about it." He paused letting the accusation hang for a few moments before continuing. "You also knew that Robert Hughes had a half brother called Byron Cooper, you arrested them together and spent best part of a month investigating before the charges were dropped. In fact a lot of the cases you file get dropped, particularly if you file them with two particular prosecutors, although one of them is an assistant DA now. I know, I've been checking. You do know that your percentage for cases not making it to court is twice the average." He paused again, Jason still had his back to him. "So do you want to know what I think you've been doing? I think you've been conspiring to let cases that should go to court drop. In short I think you're on the take and that what happened Saturday involved one of your fellow conspirators so you helped set me up to take the fall. So go on deny it."
Still Jason did not turn to face him, did not move, did not speak.
Steve stepped forward again, grabbing Jason's shoulder and forcing him round to face him. "I said, deny it." His voice carried the anger and betrayal that he felt. One look at Jason's face was all he needed, the guilt clearly written across it. Steve stepped back the anger draining from him to be replaced by repulsion. "Why?" He asked again quietly, "Just tell me why."
If anyone else had asked him he might have tried to continue the denial and hope that they couldn't find enough proof that he had done anything wrong, after all the beauty of the setup had been that all those involved could cover for each other, but Steve Sloan had been a friend of his, and he was thoroughly ashamed of himself for what he had done in the last week. Horrified at what had happened at the clinic, he had realised that he was too involved not to take part in the cover up and had justified it to himself by rationalising that he could not do anything to bring back the people who were already dead. If he'd known about it beforehand he would have done something to stop it, but he hadn't.
When he'd first got involved it had all been low key petty stuff, usually the rich or those with professions where they couldn't afford to have a criminal record, paying to have the charges dropped. To avoid further investigations, the officers involved would file them with the prosecutor who would tell them which pieces of evidence or statements to lose. They would than be dropped because of insufficient evidence to proceed.
All of this information poured out as Jason attempted to justify his own actions, explaining that he was already too involved to get out by the time they started to offer the service to thugs like Byron Cooper and his brother.
Steve listened and tried to contain his emotions, scarcely able to believe that someone he had worked with and trusted could be capable of what he was confessing to.
"It was only three or four times a year, mostly petty stuff," Jason tried again to justify what he had done. "I never wanted to get involved in anything bigger. This whole business with the clinic has been a nightmare for me."
It was all Steve could do to avoid hitting him for that last comment. "My heart bleeds for you," he said sarcastically. Suddenly feeling sick, the need for some fresh air became overwhelming. He began to walk towards the door.
"Wait," Jason called after him. "What now?"
Steve didn't turn round he just pulled open his shirt and ripped off the wire he had been wearing. He dropped it to the floor by the entrance to the locker room. "I imagine IA will be in touch." he said and left the room.
--
There was very little conversation in Amanda's car as she drove them all back to the beach house. Lieutenant Stiles had played them the recording of Jason Walter's confession, and Jesse had given them the files to read on all of the cases that Sandra Gray and David Thorson had dropped, including a case against Dr. Michael Evans. Mark and Amanda had found it most difficult to report on their findings but had passed on the information that they had discovered. By the time they left the station warrants had been issued for the arrest of David Thorson, Sandra Gray, Jason Walters and several other officers who seemed to have been implicated.
--
The following morning was bright and sunny with a light breeze blowing off the ocean, so Amanda set the breakfast things out on the deck. Despite the fact that they appeared to have finally solved the case, the mood of the previous evening had been subdued as the more disturbing aspects of what they had discovered sank in, and Amanda was determined to brighten the mood a little. They were expecting Nathan to arrive with news on the previous evenings' interrogations and so no one was surprised when the doorbell went at around nine o'clock.
They were surprised, however, when Amanda returned with Captain Newman in tow. "Detective Turner has gone to initiate two more arrests based on what we discovered last night," he explained as he took the offered seat. "So I said I'd come out and fill you all in. David Thorson still hasn't cracked but we've got enough from the others involved, none of whom are too happy about his getting them involved in murder, to nail him." He turned to look at Mark. "You were right, he set the whole massacre in the clinic up so that he could have his wife and niece killed without anyone looking in his direction for a motive. As far as we can tell, and this mainly comes from Ms Gray, apparently David Thorson confided in her once the whole scheme went awry, her part was in trying to engineer damage limitation. Anyway, the niece told her aunt about the abuse but she was reluctant to believe it. She made the appointment with Dr. Evans and told him that if he found any physical evidence to back up the girl's claims then she would expose her husband, unfortunately she didn't know of their previous dealings with each other. Thorson had dropped quite a serious drugs charge on him in exchange for a share in the profits from the newly opened clinic. When Evan's told Thorson about his wife he got in touch with some other old acquaintances and, well you know what happened after that."
"So everyone who was involved in the original bribery scheme was forced to help in the cover up or be exposed." Jesse stated.
Newman nodded, "But once we had detective Walters' statement the whole thing fell apart like a house of cards. It's now the turn of the DA's office and the LAPD to try to run some sort of damage limitation but there could be literally hundreds of cases going back years which need reinvestigating. The Mayor's office are setting up a task force." He shifted in his chair. "Which brings me to my other reason for coming out here this morning. I'm afraid that this was rather forgotten in the turmoil of the last few days." He looked across at Steve. "You were officially reinstated two days ago so I wanted to bring these back to you personally." He removed Steve's badge and gun from his pocket and pushed them across the table to him.
Since his talk with Jesse on the beach Steve had been focussed on other things and hadn't really had time to sit back and analyse how he was handling his feelings about what had happened in the clinic. The whole of the previous day he had been focused on bringing the people responsible to justice, he'd spent very little time on considering his own feelings. Had he wanted a powerful reminder that he had not yet recovered from the emotional trauma of those events, he could not have been given a stronger one than the one that had now been pushed across the table to him.
The sight of his own gun that he had last held in his hand in the clinic was a shock, looking at it brought back images of pain and death, feelings of helplessness and hopelessness as he had tried to lift it to stop the gunman and failed. It took all his self control not to throw up, as the myriad of emotions assaulted his senses. He pushed his chair back from the table and stood. "Excuse me," he said, "there's something I need to get."
Once he was inside the house he took several deep breaths to calm himself, the strength of his own reaction to an inanimate object surprised him and he knew he still had a way to go before he could consider himself recovered. It had however, confirmed his resolve to do something that he had decided days earlier. He went to the desk and retrieved the letter that was waiting there. If he couldn't even look at a gun then he would be no good as a police officer. He looked down at the letter of resignation and considered it one last time. It was the right thing to do. He headed back for the deck.
He emerged through the door intending to hand the letter straight to his Captain, but he never got the chance, at that moment the interior of the house exploded behind him. The last thing he saw was the shards of debris flying out across the deck as the shockwave from the blast picked him and everything else in it's path up and tossed them forward.
Mark did not answer straight away, instead he went and retrieved the pile of newspapers for the past week. He hadn't paid as much attention to them as he would normally have done, when working on a case like this, because of their reports on Steve, and had only really started reading again once he was a patient himself in the hospital, now he hoped that they had the information he was looking for. He took the Sunday edition himself, it contained details of the victims, and handed the papers for the day after the attack on Steve to Amanda and Jesse. They just watched silently, waiting for the explanation that they knew would come.
"That's what's been bothering me for the last few days but I couldn't quite bring it to mind. There was too much else going on at the time." He looked at Jesse. "Do you remember when Steve was attacked in the hospital by Mary Ryland's father?"
Jesse nodded as the painful image of the frenzied beating his friend had taken, and of having to drag off the distraught attacker with Mark's help, was brought to mind.
"Well after it we were too busy taking care of Steve to take much notice of what was happening," Mark continued, he did not mention his own emotional collapse. "but I did get to glance at the reports in the paper the next day. I didn't read them properly because of their bias, but I remember seeing the piece about Mary Ryland's father being arrested and the photograph of him and his wife being taken away in Nathan's car. That means that neither of them was at the clinic on the night of the attack. Now Mary Ryland was just twelve years old..."
"So why was she at Dr. Evan's clinic without either of her parents," Amanda completed, catching on to his line of thinking.
Mark nodded. "If either of them had been there they would have been caught up in the massacre."
"Maybe they were both working?" Jesse suggested.
Mark shook his head, Dr. Taylor had been right about him not missing a detail it had just taken him a while to put these details together. "No, her mother only works mornings and her father owns his own business, he could have taken time off if his daughter was sick, besides her appointment was at a quarter to six on a Saturday, so there's no reason why either of them couldn't have taken her."
"A prior commitment, maybe dinner or the theatre or something?" Amanda asked
Mark shook his head again. "No, if the parents were out enjoying themselves when all this happened then the papers would have made something of it."
He looked thoughtfully down at the picture of the young girl on the front page of the paper he was holding. He was never sure why he picked up on certain details that seemed insignificant to other people, wasn't sure now why he was getting so excited about this, Amanda had just postulated a perfectly reasonable explanation for the facts, and yet he knew that somehow the death of this young girl held the key to solving the case.
"OK," Amanda said, indicating the paper in front of her. "What are we looking for?"
"Anything that indicates why she was there and who she was with."
The three spent the next few minutes poring over the newspapers, before Jesse let out a gasp. "I think I just got the answer and a whole lot more questions."
Amanda and Mark turned to look at him expectantly.
"Mary Ryland was at the clinic with her maternal aunt Jennifer Thorson, who was also killed in the massacre." Jesse said, rechecking the details in the article in front of him. "Jennifer Thorson was married to David Thorson who works out of the DA's office as a state prosecutor "
Mark looked gratified, that was too much to be coincidence, every instinct told him that they had indeed found something that would break the case. He cursed himself for not going through these newspaper reports more thoroughly earlier in the week. If he'd read the article that Jesse now held in his hand or if he'd asked Nathan to check on the background of the other victims at the clinic they might have picked up on this coincidence sooner.
It was at this point that a chilling idea occurred to him. It was entirely possible that Steve had been set up from that first night to divert attention from what was really going on, the accusations of negligence, his arrest, all designed to prevent these facts being noticed. As he started to put all of the evidence from the last few days together it began to look like a cover up on a much larger scale than just one doctor trying to cover his involvement in a murder. He looked determinedly at his companions. "OK let's see if we can pick up anything else."
--
It was 9.30 by the time Nathan pulled his car into the drive at the beachhouse and he tried to stifle a yawn. The call from Mark had come at around midnight and it had resulted in a long list of tasks for him to fulfil. He hadn't made it into bed until around 1 a.m. and he had been up again at the crack of dawn. His mood and his news however were entirely the opposite of the previous day and, although he was tired, his steps were light as he made his way to the door. Mark's questions and theories had led to some very interesting discoveries.
"Nathan," Amanda greeted him with a beaming smile. "Come in, we haven't been up long," she continued, leading him through to the dining table at the back of the house where Mark and Jesse sat sipping coffee.
The three men exchanged greetings and Nathan sat, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee that Amanda handed to him.
He shifted in his seat. "Is Steve around?" he asked not wanting to start until they were all assembled.
"He was still asleep the last time I checked," Amanda replied.
"Which must have been about half an hour ago," Steve said from the doorway. "I heard the doorbell," he added, as though he felt the need to explain his presence. He moved into the room and Amanda stood.
"Coffee?" She asked, already moving towards the kitchen
"Yes but I can." he let it tail off slightly. "Get it myself," he added as she handed him a cup.
"Hey make the most of it," Amanda smiled. "It's not everyday that you can get me to wait on you."
As Amanda and Steve settled themselves at the table Mark felt a surge of pleasure at the normality of the situation, surrounded by family and friends, the light banter, and the prospect of solving the case. It was almost enough to banish the anguish and fear of the last week.
Everyone looked expectantly at Nathan. "So what did you find out?" Mark asked.
"Well, enough that I made sure I didn't let anyone else know what I was looking for or that I was coming here this morning." Nathan replied, opening the file he brought with him. "I'm inclined to think that you're right and there is something very big going on here. For a start the records on this case are being closed out faster than any I've ever seen." He looked over at Steve. "You know what it's like, even when a case is closed the files and paperwork hang around on people's desks for days, sometimes weeks afterwards."
Steve nodded, his own paperwork usually ended up in the latter category.
"Well I got a memo this morning asking me to hand in my case files by the end of the day Fortunately, I was in early this morning so I managed to take copies without anyone else noticing." He looked at Mark. "You were asking about Jennifer Thorson and Mary Ryland."
"Yes, there's quite a long piece in the paper about the Ryland's but virtually nothing about the aunt who was also killed, and nothing about why either of them were there."
Nathan had been surprised when Mark had called and asked him to find out about these two victims in particular, given what he had found, however, his surprise had been short lived. He shook his head. "I'm afraid that I can't tell you anything more than you know, the papers have more in them than the police files."
"But they say virtually nothing," Jesse said, shifting forward in his seat.
Nathan turned to look at him. "I know, and since both of these people were victims of a violent crime, I would have expected there to be at least standard backgrounds, but it's not even recorded that Jennifer Thorson's husband works in the DA's office. There is no record of anyone interviewing him or even going out to tell him of his wife's death. "He looked at each member of his intent audience. "The only interview with the Rylands is the one I conducted about the attack on Steve. I assumed someone had already asked about their daughter but if they did there's no record of that either."
Mark's mind worked rapidly. The lack of information served as confirmation for his theories. There was some connection here, that someone did not want to be made.
"That's not the only anomaly," Nathan said after a slight pause to allow others to digest what he had told them. "On Saturday night Captain Newman assigned two officers to find out who had been speaking to the press, Detectives Malone and Walters," He looked at Mark again. "After what you said on the phone last night about the media being manipulated to divert attention, I checked out their report, they say they could find no evidence that anyone at the scene had spoken to anyone from the press. It doesn't even acknowledge the fact that the press reports carried information that could only have come from officers who went inside the clinic that night, The press stories are passed off as speculation based on officially released facts."
"If you add all this to the fact that the ballistics report went missing and the results of my autopsy were changed...." Amanda began.
"..Then it smacks of a cover up on a grand scale." Steve completed for her, not having been part of the previous evening's discussion he had been playing catch-up for most of the conversation, but now felt in a position to comment. "But what does all of this have to do with the death of a young girl and her aunt?"
"That's what we still need to find out." Mark stated. "I assume the medical records from the clinic gave no clue as to why they were there?"
Nathan looked at him and shook his head, then he remembered Mrs. Edmond's contribution from the day before. "Hold on a minute," he said taking the neatly folded piece of paper from the back of his notebook. He looked down the list. "Yes, here it is," he said pointing to a line on the paper. According to Mrs. Edmonds there were some sheets missing from Mary Ryland's file and," he pointed further down the sheet, "all details of Mrs. Thorson's last appointment had also been removed apart from on the backup disc. The Aunt was there last week but there are no details of why."
"So I guess the only option left to us is to talk to Mary's parents and see if they can shed any light on this," Amanda said.
Mark nodded, he was unsure what sort of reception they would get but, if they wanted to follow this up, it was their only choice. He looked first at Amanda "You and I'll go." Then he turned his attention to Steve and Jesse, "I have another job for you two."
--
Amanda pressed the doorbell and then stood back next to Mark, waiting patiently for an answer. She glanced up at the pleasant two story house and couldn't help but notice that the drapes were drawn, despite the fact that it was the middle of the day. They did not have to wait long for a response, The door opened a small amount, just enough for them to see the shadow of a woman's face.
"Yes?" the woman said, there was no attempt at politeness in the enquiry but it was not hostile either, just flat.
"Mrs. Ryland?" Mark asked moving his head so that she could get a clear view and so that he could see what little of her face was showing. He knew that to be invited in he may have to gain this woman's trust and a large part of that was done through eye contact. He received a barely perceptible nod in response to his question and so continued with his introduction. "I'm Dr. Mark Sloan, and this is Dr. Amanda Bentley and..."
"I know who you are," Mrs. Ryland interrupted, "just a moment." There was a pause whilst the chain was removed and the door was opened. "I'm sorry I have to be careful," she continued her tone still lifeless. "The press.. I'm sure you understand."
Mark nodded
There was a slightly awkward pause, as Mark waited to see if they would be invited in, but Mrs. Ryland was in a state of grief that precluded the thought of social niceties, in fact she was beyond all but the most obvious of actions.
"I know this is a difficult time for you," Mark said compassionately, he couldn't even contemplate the grief of losing a child, let alone one so young. "But I was wondering if we could ask you and your husband a few questions. We're trying to find out exactly why all of this happened."
There was a brief spark of life in Joan Ryland's eyes as Mark verbalised the question she had been trying to make sense of for the last week, why had all of this happened, but it quickly died. She nodded and indicated that they should enter.
Leading them to a darkened sitting room she informed them that she would fetch her husband, returning a few minutes later with a man who was a mere shadow of what he had once been.
The last time Mark had seen John Ryland, had been when he had attacked Steve, only a few days earlier, and the change in the man was dramatic. His skin was pale and sallow and there were large dark circles under his eyes, everything about him, from his stance to the way he moved, suggested defeat. He slumped onto the couch opposite, sitting on the edge, his shoulder's stooped. If Mark held any feelings of anger towards him for what he had done to Steve, they melted into compassion as he watched the pathetic figure in front of him. Clearly the man was not coping with the grief and the consequences of his attack on Steve
"Dr. Sloan," he began, his voice hesitant and laced with guilt. "I'm so very sorry about.. about your son.. I didn't mean... I'm sorry. I know now that he was only trying to help."
Mark was momentarily lost for words, despite his sympathy and understanding for the man's pain he could not emotionally detach the fact that he had nearly killed Steve with his attack, forgiveness was beyond him, but he needed to say something in reply to this apology. "I understand," was the best he could manage, "but we're really here because we need your help. We need to ask you about your daughter, Mary."
Joan Ryland had settled herself onto the couch next to her husband, she'd already taken his hand in hers, and Mark noticed the slight squeeze she gave at the mention of their daughter, clearly she had taken on the supportive role. She watched her husband for a moment before turning to answer him. "We'll tell you whatever we can, our daughter was our only child and she meant the world to us." she paused and glanced at her husband again before turning back to Mark and continuing. "If you can help to explain why this happened.." she let the sentence trail.
"Thank you," Mark said, "Could you tell us why your daughter went to the clinic that night?"
Mrs. Ryland shook her head, "I'm afraid I can't. Neither myself nor my husband knew that there was anything wrong."
Amanda and Mark exchanged glances, that was not an answer they had been expecting.
"She was with her aunt, your sister?" Amanda asked.
"Yes," Joan squeezed her husband's hand again, "John has been having a lot of problems with the business recently, I've been trying to help him sort them out. So Mary has. had," she corrected herself, "been spending weekends with her aunt and uncle, so that we were able to work."
Mark was carefully watching the reactions of the couple leaving Amanda to ask the questions for the moment.
"And your sister, Mrs. Thorson, she didn't ring you to tell you that there was a problem?"
"No."
"Was that unusual?"
Mrs. Ryland thought for a moment. "I would have expected her to let me know if there was something wrong, so I guess it must have been something minor."
"No," John Ryland spoke firmly but it was clearly an effort to control his emotions. "We both know that's a lie." He looked at his wife. "We knew that there was something wrong but we.. No, I was too busy to do anything about it." He turned to look at Mark and Amanda. "She didn't want to go last weekend, but I insisted, told her that I was too busy to argue with her. I was too interested in saving my damned business. It seemed so important at the time but now." He looked down at where his wife's hand held his and added his other hand to the grip, drawing strength from the contact.
"Were there any other signs that something was wrong?" Amanda asked gently.
Joan Ryland, drew her attention back from her husband. "Yes," she admitted, "Mary was quite quiet for the last few weeks and she'd started getting into trouble at school. We put it down to all the tension at home. John was facing bankruptcy if we couldn't turn things around."
"Better to have gone bankrupt than this," John Ryland said bitterly. He felt an overwhelming guilt that he had pushed his daughter away in the last few weeks of her life and would never get the chance to make it up to her. It was part of what had driven him into such a frenzy when he had spotted Steve at the hospital, taking his own guilt out on the person he thought had caused his daughter's death.
Joan Ryland put her other hand supportively on his arm. "We thought she was better for being out of the house, the atmosphere was always so tense."
Mark had heard enough to know that the Ryland's did not have the answers they sought. Prolonging this discussion would only cause them further distress, something they clearly did not need. "I'm sure that you were trying to do what was best for her." he said, beginning to stand. "Look, thank you, you've been very helpful at what is a difficult time."
"Is that all," Joan said, slightly surprised that they did not want to ask more questions.
"Yes," Mark replied, as Amanda followed his lead.
Joan Ryland stood, her husband did not move apart from to let go of her hand. "I'll show you out," she said.
Mark paused at the front door, there were a couple of things he still needed to ask but hadn't wanted to say them in front of Mr. Ryland. "There's just one thing. Is there anyone at school who Mary might have confided in? Anyone she might have told if there was something wrong?"
"Her best friend was a girl called Samantha Nairn. They were inseparable." Joan said only realising the connotations of the word after it had left her lips.
Mark watched as the woman in front of him once more tried to get used to the idea of talking about her daughter in the past tense. It was something that was going to take a very long time. He knew that he had intruded on her grief for long enough but the doctor in him wouldn't allow him to leave without asking one last question.
"Forgive me for asking, but has your husband seen a doctor."
Joan Ryland shook her head. "He refuses to, says he doesn't need one."
Mark looked at her and took a card out of his pocket, "Try to persuade him, if you call this number they'll give you a referral straight away."
Joan Ryland looked down at the card. "I'll try, thanks."
--
"We get all of the exciting jobs," Jesse said as he tried to feed the microfiche sheet into the machine. The sling on his injured arm made the task extremely awkward. "and since these records are only a few years old why haven't they been transferred to a computer database somewhere." He pointed at the aging reader, "This is hardly state of the art technology."
Steve shook his head. "Computer files are still too easy to corrupt, besides it could be worse, we could be trying to search through boxes and filing cabinets, at least this way we get to sit down."
Jesse nodded. "I guess, but these things give me a headache."
Steve placed the list of files that had been destroyed by the fire at the records office on the desk between them and began scanning for the correct reference code. It was ten minutes before either of them found anything. It was Steve who let out a gasp.
"Find something," Jesse asked unnecessarily.
"Oh, yes," Steve said, barely containing the anger in his voice as he analysed the information he had just read, his mind rapidly putting the pieces together. No wonder someone had tried to erase these files. Jesse moved over to read over his shoulder and let out a long slow breath. The two men looked at each other, no need for words the implications were in front of them. "OK, I guess now we know what we're looking for." Steve said.
Jesse nodded and returned to his screen with renewed enthusiasm.
--
Byron watched with some satisfaction as everyone left the house. It was just what he had been waiting for. Still, he was extremely cautious in his approach, the police guard had gone with Steve but that did not mean that there would not be regular patrols past the house.
He went in through Steve's apartment. Picking locks was a skill he had acquired at an early age but he rarely used it, he did not care for subtlety, preferring to announce his presence when he did something, but he was intelligent enough to know how to use it when it was needed and he was determined to enjoy this particular job. Peter had been so right when he said the Sloan's deserved to pay. He was only just beginning to realise what he had lost when Steve had killed Robert, possibly the only person that he had ever been genuinely close to, or cared anything about, inasmuch as he could care about anyone. The incident at the clinic had been his little brother's initiation into what was going to be the family business and now he was gone, leaving him with only pathetic wimps like Peter for company.
He was careful not to leave any trace that he had been there as he moved cautiously through the house, he had had plenty of time to plan this and this time nothing would go wrong.
It took him around half an hour to complete his work and plant the materials he had brought with him. He took one last look around to ensure that he hadn't left any traces of his activities before leaving the house, a satisfied smile on his face.
--
Steve pulled up in the cab outside the news station. He had dismissed the police guard, given what he had found out the young officer's presence wasn't making him feel any safer. He had managed to persuade Jesse to finish checking through the files and printing off the information they would need, but his own growing anger and sense of betrayal, made it increasingly difficult for him to concentrate. He had needed to get out and do something, so had decided to come and confirm his suspicions, although there was a part of him that just wanted to deny that the whole thing was possible.
He made his way into the building and over to the reception desk, where a young woman barely glanced up at him. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, I'd like to see a reporter named Kate McHale."
"Is she expecting you?"
"No, but I'm sure she would want to talk to me, my name is Steve Sloan, Lieutenant Steve Sloan."
The young woman recognised the name instantly, it had after all featured in their lead story for most of the week. She cursed herself for not looking at the man more closely. Now that she did, she recognised him, she had seen his picture often enough. The bored tone was dropped. She gestured to some chairs off to one side. "Please take a seat, I'm sure she'll be right down."
Less than a minute later a pretty young woman almost ran into the room, stopping at the reception desk where she was pointed in Steve's direction. She headed over to where he was sitting plastering a bright smile on her face. She held out her hand as he stood. "Lt. Sloan," she said slightly breathlessly. "I have to say I'm surprised, but honoured to see you here. I've been trying to get to talk to you all week." Her mind was working rapidly, if she could get an exclusive interview with Steve Sloan it could make her career.
"I need your help," Steve said, without preamble and not giving the reporter a chance to ask him any questions. "You broke the story about my presence in the clinic and about the breach of procedure."
"Yes," she replied, curiously.
"I need to know who gave you the information?"
"I'm afraid I can't help you. I never reveal my sources."
"Oh, but it would be in your best interests to do so on this occasion. I promise you there is a much bigger story here and if you help me I'll make sure you get an exclusive on it." At that moment Steve felt like he was making deals with the devil. This woman had after all helped to start the rumours that had almost got him killed, and had caused him and his father untold anguish, and yet he knew she was just a pawn in a much bigger game."
The reporter thought about his offer. "OK," she replied, "I'll tell you."
--
It had taken a great deal of persuasion but Mark and Amanda finally sat in the school guidance counselor's office opposite Samantha Nairn. The counselor sat to one side of her. Samantha's mother had given permission for them to talk to her daughter as long as the counselor was there with them.
Mark had started gently, asking her what she thought about school and how was she enjoying being in the seventh grade. He had then steered in to ask her about her friends before finally, once he felt he had the young girl's trust, getting round to asking the questions he really wanted answered.
"I understand Mary Ryland was one of your friends?" He asked.
Samantha nodded. "She was my best friend," she replied quietly.
"You know that we're here because we're trying to find out, why this happened to her."
The young girl nodded again, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.
"Mary was at the doctor's on Saturday night, do you know if she had been feeling ill?" Mark asked.
Samantha shifted in her chair, "No," she replied.
"But there was something wrong?"
Samantha thought about it for a few moments, she looked up at Mark. "She made me promise not to tell."
"I'm sure that given the circumstances, she wouldn't mind," Mark said softly, "I think she'd want people to know what happened."
Samantha thought again, the three adults waited patiently for her to speak. When she did her voice was barely audible. She looked down at the floor again. "She didn't tell me everything but I know she was afraid, she didn't want to go to her uncle's house. She said he was... he was.." She tried hard to put her friend's confidence into words but found that she couldn't. "She didn't want to tell her parents, she said they had too many problems. I told her she had to tell someone." She looked at the counselor and then back at Mark. "She said that she would. I think she was going to tell her aunt Jennifer." She was looking more and more distressed as she spoke. Again her eyes went to the counselor and back to Mark again. "I told her she should tell someone." She repeated, needing reassurance that she had done the right thing.
"It's all right," the counselor said reassuringly.
Samantha looked at her. "But it's not. She's dead," she stated as the tears began to fall.
Mark was shocked by what he had just heard but realised that he was not surprised, a part of his mind had already considered this as a possibility after his conversation with the Ryland's. His instincts had told him that Mary Ryland was at the root of the massacre and, if what Samantha had just implied were true, than it would give David Thorson the motive to kill both her and his wife if she had threatened to expose him. He was certainly now their prime suspect, but how had he managed to get Dr. Evans and so many others to assist him in the set up and the cover up that followed? Mark knew that they still needed more information.
They spent a few more minutes talking to Samantha, reassuring her before they left her in the capable hands of the guidance counselor. Once they were back in Amanda's car, Mark dialed Steve's cell phone but it was turned off so he tried Jesse's instead.
"Hi Jess, did you find out anything?" Mark asked when his young friend answered.
"Plenty," Jesse said, "I think we know how this whole thing was set up and who is involved, we just don't have the why."
"Well I think we can supply that," Mark glanced across at Amanda as he spoke. "Where's Steve?"
"He's down at the police station and that's where I'm headed now." Jesse replied.
"We'll meet you there then." Mark said hitting the disconnect. He had been about to ask lots of questions but the fact that Steve had gone to the station threw him. He turned to Amanda and told her of their change in destination.
--
Detective Jason Walters walked into the locker room and headed straight for his locker. It had been a long day and all he wanted was to get cleaned up and head home. He opened the door not really paying any attention to anyone else in the room but, as he emptied something out of his top pocket, he suddenly had the feeling that he was being watched. He looked past the locker door and saw that there was someone leaning against the wall staring at him. It took a moment for him to recognise Steve Sloan but as he did so an icy chill gripped his spine. He pushed his locker door closed and forced an air of joviality.
"Hey Steve," he said, smiling, "I didn't know you were back, didn't think they'd let you out of the hospital yet." He took a step forward.
Steve did not reply he just continued to stare, his face an impassive mask.
Jason took another step forwards forcing his tone to remain light. "So, is this just a visit or are you back with us?" He asked. Still Steve did not reply. "Hey what's the matter buddy? Cat got your tongue?"
Steve shifted as Jason came slightly closer. "Why?" he said, his voice tight, "Just tell me why?"
"Why, what," Jason asked, forcing himself to continue acting, despite the way Steve was behaving towards him. The only logical conclusion was that Steve knew about him, but he didn't want to believe that so he kept up the pretense. "I don't understand, what do you want to know?"
Steve pushed himself off the wall, he could no longer reign in the emotions completely and the hostility bristled from him. "You're a good detective, you have..you had a good career. Why get involved."
Jason turned away as he attempted to control his own facial expression. Sloan knew all right but how much? He tried to continue the denial. "Get involved in what? I don't know what you're talking about."
It was Steve's turn to step closer. "You fed me to the press Saturday night, told them I was there, told them I'd broken with procedure, told them I was responsible for the shootings starting You even told them what I said that night before I collapsed." Steve said, his voice bitter with betrayal. "And then you filed a false report about it." He paused letting the accusation hang for a few moments before continuing. "You also knew that Robert Hughes had a half brother called Byron Cooper, you arrested them together and spent best part of a month investigating before the charges were dropped. In fact a lot of the cases you file get dropped, particularly if you file them with two particular prosecutors, although one of them is an assistant DA now. I know, I've been checking. You do know that your percentage for cases not making it to court is twice the average." He paused again, Jason still had his back to him. "So do you want to know what I think you've been doing? I think you've been conspiring to let cases that should go to court drop. In short I think you're on the take and that what happened Saturday involved one of your fellow conspirators so you helped set me up to take the fall. So go on deny it."
Still Jason did not turn to face him, did not move, did not speak.
Steve stepped forward again, grabbing Jason's shoulder and forcing him round to face him. "I said, deny it." His voice carried the anger and betrayal that he felt. One look at Jason's face was all he needed, the guilt clearly written across it. Steve stepped back the anger draining from him to be replaced by repulsion. "Why?" He asked again quietly, "Just tell me why."
If anyone else had asked him he might have tried to continue the denial and hope that they couldn't find enough proof that he had done anything wrong, after all the beauty of the setup had been that all those involved could cover for each other, but Steve Sloan had been a friend of his, and he was thoroughly ashamed of himself for what he had done in the last week. Horrified at what had happened at the clinic, he had realised that he was too involved not to take part in the cover up and had justified it to himself by rationalising that he could not do anything to bring back the people who were already dead. If he'd known about it beforehand he would have done something to stop it, but he hadn't.
When he'd first got involved it had all been low key petty stuff, usually the rich or those with professions where they couldn't afford to have a criminal record, paying to have the charges dropped. To avoid further investigations, the officers involved would file them with the prosecutor who would tell them which pieces of evidence or statements to lose. They would than be dropped because of insufficient evidence to proceed.
All of this information poured out as Jason attempted to justify his own actions, explaining that he was already too involved to get out by the time they started to offer the service to thugs like Byron Cooper and his brother.
Steve listened and tried to contain his emotions, scarcely able to believe that someone he had worked with and trusted could be capable of what he was confessing to.
"It was only three or four times a year, mostly petty stuff," Jason tried again to justify what he had done. "I never wanted to get involved in anything bigger. This whole business with the clinic has been a nightmare for me."
It was all Steve could do to avoid hitting him for that last comment. "My heart bleeds for you," he said sarcastically. Suddenly feeling sick, the need for some fresh air became overwhelming. He began to walk towards the door.
"Wait," Jason called after him. "What now?"
Steve didn't turn round he just pulled open his shirt and ripped off the wire he had been wearing. He dropped it to the floor by the entrance to the locker room. "I imagine IA will be in touch." he said and left the room.
--
There was very little conversation in Amanda's car as she drove them all back to the beach house. Lieutenant Stiles had played them the recording of Jason Walter's confession, and Jesse had given them the files to read on all of the cases that Sandra Gray and David Thorson had dropped, including a case against Dr. Michael Evans. Mark and Amanda had found it most difficult to report on their findings but had passed on the information that they had discovered. By the time they left the station warrants had been issued for the arrest of David Thorson, Sandra Gray, Jason Walters and several other officers who seemed to have been implicated.
--
The following morning was bright and sunny with a light breeze blowing off the ocean, so Amanda set the breakfast things out on the deck. Despite the fact that they appeared to have finally solved the case, the mood of the previous evening had been subdued as the more disturbing aspects of what they had discovered sank in, and Amanda was determined to brighten the mood a little. They were expecting Nathan to arrive with news on the previous evenings' interrogations and so no one was surprised when the doorbell went at around nine o'clock.
They were surprised, however, when Amanda returned with Captain Newman in tow. "Detective Turner has gone to initiate two more arrests based on what we discovered last night," he explained as he took the offered seat. "So I said I'd come out and fill you all in. David Thorson still hasn't cracked but we've got enough from the others involved, none of whom are too happy about his getting them involved in murder, to nail him." He turned to look at Mark. "You were right, he set the whole massacre in the clinic up so that he could have his wife and niece killed without anyone looking in his direction for a motive. As far as we can tell, and this mainly comes from Ms Gray, apparently David Thorson confided in her once the whole scheme went awry, her part was in trying to engineer damage limitation. Anyway, the niece told her aunt about the abuse but she was reluctant to believe it. She made the appointment with Dr. Evans and told him that if he found any physical evidence to back up the girl's claims then she would expose her husband, unfortunately she didn't know of their previous dealings with each other. Thorson had dropped quite a serious drugs charge on him in exchange for a share in the profits from the newly opened clinic. When Evan's told Thorson about his wife he got in touch with some other old acquaintances and, well you know what happened after that."
"So everyone who was involved in the original bribery scheme was forced to help in the cover up or be exposed." Jesse stated.
Newman nodded, "But once we had detective Walters' statement the whole thing fell apart like a house of cards. It's now the turn of the DA's office and the LAPD to try to run some sort of damage limitation but there could be literally hundreds of cases going back years which need reinvestigating. The Mayor's office are setting up a task force." He shifted in his chair. "Which brings me to my other reason for coming out here this morning. I'm afraid that this was rather forgotten in the turmoil of the last few days." He looked across at Steve. "You were officially reinstated two days ago so I wanted to bring these back to you personally." He removed Steve's badge and gun from his pocket and pushed them across the table to him.
Since his talk with Jesse on the beach Steve had been focussed on other things and hadn't really had time to sit back and analyse how he was handling his feelings about what had happened in the clinic. The whole of the previous day he had been focused on bringing the people responsible to justice, he'd spent very little time on considering his own feelings. Had he wanted a powerful reminder that he had not yet recovered from the emotional trauma of those events, he could not have been given a stronger one than the one that had now been pushed across the table to him.
The sight of his own gun that he had last held in his hand in the clinic was a shock, looking at it brought back images of pain and death, feelings of helplessness and hopelessness as he had tried to lift it to stop the gunman and failed. It took all his self control not to throw up, as the myriad of emotions assaulted his senses. He pushed his chair back from the table and stood. "Excuse me," he said, "there's something I need to get."
Once he was inside the house he took several deep breaths to calm himself, the strength of his own reaction to an inanimate object surprised him and he knew he still had a way to go before he could consider himself recovered. It had however, confirmed his resolve to do something that he had decided days earlier. He went to the desk and retrieved the letter that was waiting there. If he couldn't even look at a gun then he would be no good as a police officer. He looked down at the letter of resignation and considered it one last time. It was the right thing to do. He headed back for the deck.
He emerged through the door intending to hand the letter straight to his Captain, but he never got the chance, at that moment the interior of the house exploded behind him. The last thing he saw was the shards of debris flying out across the deck as the shockwave from the blast picked him and everything else in it's path up and tossed them forward.