Pieces of the Puzzle
Mark had spent at least one weary hour waiting outside the operating theatre. He had been told that there had been some complications, but the messenger had left it at that. This news had made Mark even more anxious.
"Come on," Mark muttered. "It's been four hours!" He looked at his watch, and saw that it was now close to five o'clock. What could they be doing in there, he wondered.
A few minutes later, the gurney was rolled out of the theatre. Mark watched his friend roll by, and then talked to the doctor in the surgery.
"What were the complications?" Mark asked the instant he saw the doctor.
"I am not authorised to tell you," the doctor replied. "I think you should ask Dr. Green."
After ten minutes of searching, Mark found Dr. Green in his office.
"Mark," the doctor greeted, looking up from his desk. "Have a seat. I assume you are here about Doctor Travis?"
"Indeed, I am," Mark replied, sitting himself down in one of the two leather chairs in Dr. Green's office. "I was told there were complications."
"Ah," Dr. Green sighed.
"What?" Mark asked. "Come on, Robert. What gives?"
"Well," the doctor began, "we took some scans of Jesse's cranium."
"And?"
"From the results of the tests, there is the possibility that not everything will be right when Jesse wakes up," Dr. Green sighed.
Mark's eyes opened wide. "Brain damage?"
"There is a fifty-fifty chance," Robert replied.
Mark tried to hope for the better fifty in the chance. "How about his ribs?"
"They are fine," Robert replied. "Taped up, and without the punctured lung."
At least that's something, Mark thought.
His colleague saw the look on Mark's face. "I can't do anything until Jesse wakes up. I wish there was something I could do now. I'm sorry, Mark."
Mark turned to leave. "Thanks," was all he could say. He shut the door behind him. Then he opened it again. "Is it okay to go and see him now?"
"Sure," Robert replied. "Just don't expect him to be awake yet. It could be a while."
Mark nodded. "I know." Then, for the second time, he left Dr. Green's office.
Mark walked into Jesse's room. Monitors and machines were operating, and an array of wires was attached to the young man.
Mark sat in a nearby chair. He stared down at the figure before him. One side, the side closest to Mark, was tightly bandaged. Jesse's shoulder had a dressing on, and blood was beginning to stain the top layer.
Jesse's head was also bandaged, only on the right side of his forehead. The rest of him was bruised, grazed and scratched. Mark winced as he realised how much pain Jesse would be in when he woke up, and that was with pain relievers.
"Hey, Jess," Mark whispered. "I know you can't hear me, but I'm gonna say it all anyway."
"After all the stuff that's happened today, it's difficult to believe that under a week ago, I shouted at you, and for a moment, I couldn't have cared less about what happened to you. I'm glad that we sorted it out before today."
"You showed something special today. Actually, you showed two special things. You showed selflessness, and you showed courage. Other people in your position would have just ran out of Bob's today, and not cared about anyone else in there. You stayed, and today you saved countless lives, not caring about your own. THAT is something special."
"What happened to you today. You didn't deserve that. You saved so many lives today, and what do you get? You get a whole tonne of rubble fall down on top of you. I don't find that fair. Maybe you knew that the ceiling was going to collapse, but you still carried on regardless. You know what that makes you? A hero, I guess."
"We are going to get whoever did this. You don't need to worry about that. You concentrate on getting better. I'll see you later." Mark got up to leave; glad that although Jesse was oblivious to Mark having just poured his heart out to him, he had done it and made himself feel a bit better.
Mark ran into Steve in a corridor of the hospital.
"Hey, Dad!" Steve exclaimed with a big grin on his face. Mark knew that only one thing would make Steve grin that much.
"Please tell me you have good news," Mark said, knowing full well that Steve definitely did have good news.
"Will do," Steve said. "A good friend of mine just found us a reasonable bit of evidence."
"What would that be?" Mark asked.
"A wedding ring, inscribed, with prints," Steve proclaimed. "It said, `Beverly, love always, Frank.' Pretty good, huh?"
Mark's eyes lit up. "I think I can save you the trouble of going through records and looking for anyone called Frank or Beverly," Mark told him.
"You can?" Steve asked with wonderment.
"Frank Huddersfield," Mark stated. "I remember it well. Come into the Doctor's Lounge, Steve."
Mark and Steve settled down at a table with a coffee. "Okay, Dad," Steve said. "Who is Frank Huddersfield?"
"It happened a year ago," Mark recalled. "There was a big car crash in town. You might remember it."
"I remember," Steve said. "I wasn't directly involved, but they were short of officers that night, so I went along to help out."
"Well," Mark continued. "There were three cars involved. One belonged to the Huddersfield family, and another belonged to the Conan family. The two members of the Conan family were Tim and Lucy. Lucy was Frank's sister, and Tim was Frank's brother-in-law."
"Go on," Steve said.
"In the Huddersfield car was Frank, and Frank's wife, Beverly. Also, in the back-seat, were the two Huddersfield children, Joshua and Stacy."
"Let me guess," Steve cut in. "I think that everyone except for Frank died on impact."
"Not quite," Mark explained. "Tim, Lucy, Joshua and Stacy died on impact. Beverly didn't. She was paralysed from the neck downwards, for nine months, before she got so ill that she was too weak to go on. She had a stroke, and died."
"Guess he was pretty annoyed," Steve murmured.
"You could say that. You could also say that he was pretty annoyed when he was given zero insurance."
"Whoa boy," Steve muttered under his breath.
"Whoa boy is right," Mark agreed.
"Okay, so this guy bombs every insurance company in LA? How many are there?"
"I had got no idea," Mark said. "Dozens, I'd say."
"Exactly."
"But, I have a feeling that's not the way he's going. I mean, he hasn't got anyone else to dedicate his bombings to now, has he?"
"So, he'll just stop there?"
"I doubt that he'll carry it on," Mark said. "He's one of these people who quits while he's ahead."
"Right," Steve said, getting to his feet. "All I need now is an address for him."
"I'll be back with the file," Mark said. Steve went with him.
"Have you seen Jesse yet?" Steve asked as they walked to where the files were kept.
"Yes, I have," was all that Mark said.
"And?"
"And what?"
"And what?" Steve asked in astonishment. "What do you mean, and what? How is he?"
"The surgery went well," Mark told him. "The ribs were dealt with, and they managed it without collapsing the lung. The procedure has been around for a while, but there is always a chance that the lung will be punctured, especially with the amount ribs that were damaged."
"So he's got the all-clear?" Steve asked, not particularly wanting a lecture about modern medicines and all the things that could go wrong.
"Not exactly," Mark said.
"So, what else is wrong?"
"We'll have to see when he wakes up," Mark told him, flipping through the files, looking for one belonging to the Huddersfield family. "You know, Frank may have moved. He lived in a big house before, and he probably wanted to leave and move somewhere smaller."
"Dad, you're hiding something," Steve said. "What's the problem?"
Mark turned around, having found the file. "Here it is," he declared. "I'll find a piece of paper and a pen, and you can go and get this guy."
"I'll do that," Steve began. "AFTER you tell me what's eating you."
Mark sighed. "All right," he said. "I don't know if you saw, but there was some trauma to Jesse's skull."
"Yeah," Steve said.
"Well, Dr. Green says that there is a fifty-fifty chance of things not being quite right when Jesse wakes up."
"You mean...?" Steve asked, not being able to finish the sentence.
"I'm afraid so," Mark said. "I don't like it anymore than you do. But, you do know that if it happens, and I repeat, IF it happens, then we have to be there for Jesse. It will hit everyone hard, but we have to do everything we can to help Jesse through this."
Steve nodded. Mark handed him the piece of paper. "Right, well," Steve began, remembering what the paper was for. "I've got a bomber to catch. I'll see you later."
"You too," Mark said. "And, be careful."
Mark had spent at least one weary hour waiting outside the operating theatre. He had been told that there had been some complications, but the messenger had left it at that. This news had made Mark even more anxious.
"Come on," Mark muttered. "It's been four hours!" He looked at his watch, and saw that it was now close to five o'clock. What could they be doing in there, he wondered.
A few minutes later, the gurney was rolled out of the theatre. Mark watched his friend roll by, and then talked to the doctor in the surgery.
"What were the complications?" Mark asked the instant he saw the doctor.
"I am not authorised to tell you," the doctor replied. "I think you should ask Dr. Green."
After ten minutes of searching, Mark found Dr. Green in his office.
"Mark," the doctor greeted, looking up from his desk. "Have a seat. I assume you are here about Doctor Travis?"
"Indeed, I am," Mark replied, sitting himself down in one of the two leather chairs in Dr. Green's office. "I was told there were complications."
"Ah," Dr. Green sighed.
"What?" Mark asked. "Come on, Robert. What gives?"
"Well," the doctor began, "we took some scans of Jesse's cranium."
"And?"
"From the results of the tests, there is the possibility that not everything will be right when Jesse wakes up," Dr. Green sighed.
Mark's eyes opened wide. "Brain damage?"
"There is a fifty-fifty chance," Robert replied.
Mark tried to hope for the better fifty in the chance. "How about his ribs?"
"They are fine," Robert replied. "Taped up, and without the punctured lung."
At least that's something, Mark thought.
His colleague saw the look on Mark's face. "I can't do anything until Jesse wakes up. I wish there was something I could do now. I'm sorry, Mark."
Mark turned to leave. "Thanks," was all he could say. He shut the door behind him. Then he opened it again. "Is it okay to go and see him now?"
"Sure," Robert replied. "Just don't expect him to be awake yet. It could be a while."
Mark nodded. "I know." Then, for the second time, he left Dr. Green's office.
Mark walked into Jesse's room. Monitors and machines were operating, and an array of wires was attached to the young man.
Mark sat in a nearby chair. He stared down at the figure before him. One side, the side closest to Mark, was tightly bandaged. Jesse's shoulder had a dressing on, and blood was beginning to stain the top layer.
Jesse's head was also bandaged, only on the right side of his forehead. The rest of him was bruised, grazed and scratched. Mark winced as he realised how much pain Jesse would be in when he woke up, and that was with pain relievers.
"Hey, Jess," Mark whispered. "I know you can't hear me, but I'm gonna say it all anyway."
"After all the stuff that's happened today, it's difficult to believe that under a week ago, I shouted at you, and for a moment, I couldn't have cared less about what happened to you. I'm glad that we sorted it out before today."
"You showed something special today. Actually, you showed two special things. You showed selflessness, and you showed courage. Other people in your position would have just ran out of Bob's today, and not cared about anyone else in there. You stayed, and today you saved countless lives, not caring about your own. THAT is something special."
"What happened to you today. You didn't deserve that. You saved so many lives today, and what do you get? You get a whole tonne of rubble fall down on top of you. I don't find that fair. Maybe you knew that the ceiling was going to collapse, but you still carried on regardless. You know what that makes you? A hero, I guess."
"We are going to get whoever did this. You don't need to worry about that. You concentrate on getting better. I'll see you later." Mark got up to leave; glad that although Jesse was oblivious to Mark having just poured his heart out to him, he had done it and made himself feel a bit better.
Mark ran into Steve in a corridor of the hospital.
"Hey, Dad!" Steve exclaimed with a big grin on his face. Mark knew that only one thing would make Steve grin that much.
"Please tell me you have good news," Mark said, knowing full well that Steve definitely did have good news.
"Will do," Steve said. "A good friend of mine just found us a reasonable bit of evidence."
"What would that be?" Mark asked.
"A wedding ring, inscribed, with prints," Steve proclaimed. "It said, `Beverly, love always, Frank.' Pretty good, huh?"
Mark's eyes lit up. "I think I can save you the trouble of going through records and looking for anyone called Frank or Beverly," Mark told him.
"You can?" Steve asked with wonderment.
"Frank Huddersfield," Mark stated. "I remember it well. Come into the Doctor's Lounge, Steve."
Mark and Steve settled down at a table with a coffee. "Okay, Dad," Steve said. "Who is Frank Huddersfield?"
"It happened a year ago," Mark recalled. "There was a big car crash in town. You might remember it."
"I remember," Steve said. "I wasn't directly involved, but they were short of officers that night, so I went along to help out."
"Well," Mark continued. "There were three cars involved. One belonged to the Huddersfield family, and another belonged to the Conan family. The two members of the Conan family were Tim and Lucy. Lucy was Frank's sister, and Tim was Frank's brother-in-law."
"Go on," Steve said.
"In the Huddersfield car was Frank, and Frank's wife, Beverly. Also, in the back-seat, were the two Huddersfield children, Joshua and Stacy."
"Let me guess," Steve cut in. "I think that everyone except for Frank died on impact."
"Not quite," Mark explained. "Tim, Lucy, Joshua and Stacy died on impact. Beverly didn't. She was paralysed from the neck downwards, for nine months, before she got so ill that she was too weak to go on. She had a stroke, and died."
"Guess he was pretty annoyed," Steve murmured.
"You could say that. You could also say that he was pretty annoyed when he was given zero insurance."
"Whoa boy," Steve muttered under his breath.
"Whoa boy is right," Mark agreed.
"Okay, so this guy bombs every insurance company in LA? How many are there?"
"I had got no idea," Mark said. "Dozens, I'd say."
"Exactly."
"But, I have a feeling that's not the way he's going. I mean, he hasn't got anyone else to dedicate his bombings to now, has he?"
"So, he'll just stop there?"
"I doubt that he'll carry it on," Mark said. "He's one of these people who quits while he's ahead."
"Right," Steve said, getting to his feet. "All I need now is an address for him."
"I'll be back with the file," Mark said. Steve went with him.
"Have you seen Jesse yet?" Steve asked as they walked to where the files were kept.
"Yes, I have," was all that Mark said.
"And?"
"And what?"
"And what?" Steve asked in astonishment. "What do you mean, and what? How is he?"
"The surgery went well," Mark told him. "The ribs were dealt with, and they managed it without collapsing the lung. The procedure has been around for a while, but there is always a chance that the lung will be punctured, especially with the amount ribs that were damaged."
"So he's got the all-clear?" Steve asked, not particularly wanting a lecture about modern medicines and all the things that could go wrong.
"Not exactly," Mark said.
"So, what else is wrong?"
"We'll have to see when he wakes up," Mark told him, flipping through the files, looking for one belonging to the Huddersfield family. "You know, Frank may have moved. He lived in a big house before, and he probably wanted to leave and move somewhere smaller."
"Dad, you're hiding something," Steve said. "What's the problem?"
Mark turned around, having found the file. "Here it is," he declared. "I'll find a piece of paper and a pen, and you can go and get this guy."
"I'll do that," Steve began. "AFTER you tell me what's eating you."
Mark sighed. "All right," he said. "I don't know if you saw, but there was some trauma to Jesse's skull."
"Yeah," Steve said.
"Well, Dr. Green says that there is a fifty-fifty chance of things not being quite right when Jesse wakes up."
"You mean...?" Steve asked, not being able to finish the sentence.
"I'm afraid so," Mark said. "I don't like it anymore than you do. But, you do know that if it happens, and I repeat, IF it happens, then we have to be there for Jesse. It will hit everyone hard, but we have to do everything we can to help Jesse through this."
Steve nodded. Mark handed him the piece of paper. "Right, well," Steve began, remembering what the paper was for. "I've got a bomber to catch. I'll see you later."
"You too," Mark said. "And, be careful."