Once upon a time, a few months before America's pre-assassination exuberance ended, the newly opened Mount Morris General Hospital had been hailed as state-of-the-art, a beacon of affordable and efficient care to the low-income neighbourhood in which it had been built. Every room and hallway gleamed in the old American Hospitals pictorial Frank had browsed a few years ago; door handles and equipment all sparkled. Pictures of cartoon characters familiar to the time lent cheer everywhere: George or Jane Jetson on washroom doors, Yogi Bear by the cafeteria, Pebbles Flintstone at the entrance to Maternity, Huckleberry Hound at Lost and Found, Quick Draw McGraw at Security.
Six decades in general and post-2019 upheavals in particular had taken their toll. The once-bright International Style architecture was faded and grimy. Part of the lobby was blocked off because of a leak on the floor above. Here and there, brown stains on the ceiling spoke of past leaks. The walls had scattered blisters and cracks. The cartoon characters were long gone.
And of course, the hospital didn't let anyone roam inside without a mask.
After Reception, the next stop for Frank's party was Security. It looked like that post had been contracted out to the lowest bidder. Uniforms were cheap and, in at least two cases, ill-fitting. The blue box was half full of donut containers, and the chief dunked his donut in a mug of coffee from time to time. He was, however, affable, and he agreed to let Atlanta work with Haroun and Mabinty in a vacant office. He offered an unopened box of donuts to the three and when they said no thanks he called them a smart team.
At the ER, Frank and Kevin found that both girls were being prepped for emergency surgery under the leadership of Dr. Valerie Cowan. They had extensive bleeding in their bellies and the younger also had blood on her brain. However, the older girl was much worse — all signs indicated that her brain had been deprived of oxygen for too long.
Both also had broken ribs - potentially very uncomfortable if they came to but the least of their problems - consistent with overly hard chest compressions.
The coal-black, dreadlocked Cowan was tall, thin and probably near Atlanta's age but more baggy-eyed. She added, "The older, I think she'll either die or be PVS."
Frank and Kevin had been around enough to know what PVS meant: Persistent Vegetative State.
"She has a plate on her left femur, and our imaging got its serial number. It's from Switzerland."
"I wondered about that scar," Frank said. "Have you contacted their Consulate General?" His belly felt sullen in anticipation of an international furor.
"Yes, and we're awaiting a reply."
"What about the younger?" Kevin asked.
"Not gravely bad, considering that subdural hematoma and ruptured spleen. Fixable problems. Going for both girls is how fit they are — probably star athletes at school."
Frank gave his card to the doctor and said, "Please send that plate number soon as you can." In the next instant, his smartphone buzzed.
Atlanta's text mentioned Mabinty's observation of a mole on the back of the perp's neck. To nursing student Mabinty, the mole looked like a malignant melanoma. Atlanta had also forwarded Abel's text, which noted fresh tripod marks. Abel's unit suspected that the perp had recorded his crimes.
"More places to look," Frank said with renewed anger in his eyes. "Social media, and the dark web."
27th Precinct, 10:16 pm
Detective Dani Vertiz slumped forward at her station and stroked her forehead. On the monitor screen to her left were five images: two of each "Swiss" girl's face: bruised, and retouched to simulate a normal, unmarked state. The fifth showed Mabinty's sketch of the suspect's head from the rear, with the mole prominently noted. On Dani's right, a monitor displayed a list of names, addresses and thumbnail pictures. These were people, mostly men, who'd been fired from security jobs over the past two years and might still have uniforms. Many of the names had been provided by Atlanta, who was back at SVU HQ after taking Mabinty Kargbo and Haroun Ganda home. Atlanta had also told of her encounter with Royston Kinbasket, who in 1999 used the uniform that was no longer rightfully his to "arrest" prey. The record of him had since been pulled from the 2-7's archive and was on Frank's desk.
The center monitor was the headache-inducer. It had a list of porn sites with newly acquired material. While some of the images showed happy-looking subjects in clean settings, many were grimy and disgusting. There was, in particular, no getting used to the growth of poop porn. Kevin had suggested that someday they would shoot porn in a cholera ward and Frank had told him to stop tempting the gods.
So far there was no sign of porn involving their two girls.
Kate Dixon stepped over to Dani and said, "I think you need this more than I do," offering her a mug of tea. As Dani took it, Kate's phone buzzed. She pulled it out and looked at its screen.
"Text from Mount Morris," Kate said. "The older girl died five minutes ago."
Frank lowered his head. He had tried so hard and still ached from the effort.
