Duty Is Color Blind
Disclaimer: I do not own The A Team movie or television series or any of the delightful characters found on The A Team.
Chapter 29 Dr. Richter
Dr. Richter answered the rap on the glass of his office door. He was curious ever since receiving the phone call from the man driving in from Desert Hot Springs. Of course, anything that would help him with Captain H. M. Murdock's treatment was welcome, and especially now.
"Dr. Richter? My name is Langston Bartholomew. I was a gunner assigned to H. M. Murdock's crew in Viet Nam." The black man at the door was short and thin. His businesslike tone indicated this was a man who invested his time and energy toward things that mattered. Dr. Richter sensed this appointment was more a business call than a friendly visit.
They shook hands and the psychiatrist gestured for Bart to sit down. Richter took his place behind his desk.
"I have to tell you up front that I may have to turn down your request to see Captain Murdock for the present. We were making progress with him until after his latest disappearance. When he came back to us after his stay at Desert Regional Medical Center, much of the most recent progress was undone. A visit with him may not be safe for you or for him." Dr. Richter laced his fingers together on top of his desk.
He sensed this man knew about Murdock's hospital stay and possibly the reasons for the injuries and setback. Perhaps he even knew about the mysterious fugitive A team which Richter suspected kept in contact with Murdock. He decided to be careful with what he said.
"Dr. Richter, without violating patient confidentiality, has the Captain told you how he got injured?" Bartholomew kept his eyes on the doctor, gauging his reaction to the question.
So Bartholomew is as cautious of me as I am of him. One of us has to play our cards so everything possible can be done for my patient.
"What if you tell me what you know? Then I can confirm things without betraying my patient's trust and privacy. How did you know he was here? You've never been on the Captain's visitor list. I checked."
Bartholomew smiled at the relatively easy opening question. Doctoring the truth as he was coached to do might not be as difficult as he thought it would be.
"My son was in the same hospital as Captain Murdock and I happened to be there when he came into the emergency. I recognized him and made sure I found out where he was transferred when he left the hospital." Most of that's the truth, he thought to himself.
"Okay, how did Captain Murdock come to be in the vicinity of Palm Springs when he doesn't drive? We know he escaped sometime during the night over a week ago but how did he get over 120 miles from here?"
Bartholomew smiled again. "Maybe he has friends on the outside who drove him there?"
Richter narrowed his eyes. "Do you know how the Captain got injured?"
The ex-gunner thought for a moment and answered. "Didn't I ask you the same question at the beginning of this interview?"
"No, you asked me if the Captain told me how he was injured. Those are two very different questions." The doctor tried to push down his rising impatience.
"I understood he fell somewhere on a ridge hiking trail in Mt. San Jacinto State Park and hit his head on a rock outcropping. Somewhere he confronted someone who was armed and that was how he got shot." Bartholomew raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Next question?"
"I read the newspapers and saw that there's been a police department shakedown and a major drug smuggling ring busted in your area. Know anything about that?"
I suspect that's somehow related to Captain Murdock, maybe even the A team. Wonder if this man will tell me anything straight. The doctor leaned forward at his desk and stared intensely at the man before him.
"Listen, Doctor Richter. A lot of good kids were getting messed up by Mr. Whitman and his smuggling operation. The persons who nailed him, his associates and the corrupt officers who were protecting him should be commended for what they did." The black man's eyes flashed with anger and Richter knew he had hit a sore spot.
The doctor sighed in frustration. "Look, you're not making this very easy. Maybe I should ask you exactly what your intentions are for visiting Captain Murdock. Can you answer that without being evasive or mysterious?"
"Something I said to him when we found time to talk may have caused the breakdown I understand he suffered. I want to clear some of that up with him and with you." There was no mistaking the sincerity in Bartholomew's voice. This was one topic he would not be evasive about.
"Okay. Tell me first what you said and then we can talk about what you want to say to him." Richter unlaced his fingers and leaned back in his chair cupping his chin with one hand.
"Like I said, I was a gunner on Captain Murdock's crew over in Nam. I don't know if he ever told you about the incident with Jerry Connors and his three men."
"He has. He almost got killed here on the hospital grounds by Connors because of the massacre he saw back then." Richter straightened in his seat. "Wait a minute. Were you a witness to the same incident?"
Bartholomew stared down at the floor and nodded. "What he didn't remember was what happened after we witnessed that."
"Go on."
"One of Connors' bullets found its mark. It lodged in the Captain's thigh, same general area where he was wounded this time. The peter pilot Jase Hammett got shot in the shoulder. Neither of them were in the type of condition to fly the chopper very well to limp it back to base camp."
"Hold it. Jase Hammett. Is he another witness?"
"Was, Doctor Richter. Was. He committed suicide this last June. Anyway, the Captain was delirious with the shock of what he saw and the shot he took. At least, that's what I think. He was having a tough time getting us back to base camp. When he did, it was like he thought it was a VC outpost. He was yelling in Vietnamese all the way back and then I figure he passed out as he was landing. The chopper accelerated and crashed nose first into a Medivac chopper with a crew of four." Bartholomew stopped and rubbed his eyes with one hand.
"What happened then?"
"The four Medivac crew members died. Jase and Captain Murdock were in critical condition. The Captain came back to fly after an extended time in the hospital. Jase didn't. He returned stateside."
"And you told Captain Murdock all of this?"
Richter was surprised to see the beginnings of tears in the black man's eyes. " He asked if I would help him testify against Connors. He was having flashbacks and nightmares. I thought he needed to know the truth of what happened, help him figure out some of the things he couldn't understand about his dreams. He agreed, thought you could help him better if he knew. After the crash, he didn't remember much of anything about the mission. Not until Connors showed up here. But he still didn't know all of it until he and I saw each other again."
Richter and Bartholomew sat in silence for a few seconds. Then Richter responded. "Well, that explains a lot of what he's been saying since he came back. He's blaming himself for the deaths of those four men."
"Something else. I have to be able to clear a private matter with him without anyone listening." Bartholomew narrowed his eyes at the psychiatrist.
"I can't let you do that without knowing the content of what you're going to say." Richter crossed his arms.
The ex-gunner thought for a few moments. "Okay. He wondered why I was hostile toward him when I first saw him. I don't deny I was. I didn't realize he had lost the memory of everything from that recon mission we were on. When he came back from the hospital, it was like he didn't know me at all. He didn't put in a request for me to be a member of his new crew. For me, during those times when all the civil rights issues were being debated and protested over here and over there, that was like the kiss of death. I didn't get promoted past Corporal First Class and I had a tough time getting on another crew. I always figured it was because I disobeyed a command to shoot Connors and his friends and more so because I was a black man and he was a Southerner looking for a reason to dump me. I hated him because of that for more than ten years."
"You think that is going to help him heal?" Doctor Richter stared at the man in disbelief. "Or is it for you?" The doctor shook his head. "I can't let you talk about that with him at this point. Maybe sometime in the future. Right now, he needs to accept the fact that those deaths were an accident. He has to stop blaming himself."
"Can I help with that?" Bartholomew's eyes pleaded with the doctor.
"Maybe. But I have to be there when you talk to him. Come with me." Doctor Richter escorted Bartholomew from his office.
