24 The Hours before Dawn
Steve stood up and strode out of the doctors' lounge, second guessing Jesse and reaching the elevator at the same time as his shorter friend.
"Jess, wait up!" He put his hand over the call buttons and carefully stepped in front of the obviously distraught man and blocked his path.
"No, I have to get back, let me pass!" He pushed on Steve, trying to move him out of the way but failing miserably. "Steve, please, let me pass."
"Not on your own I won't, but I'll come with you, if you'll let me?" Seeing Jesse nod his head mutely Steve stepped back. "I'll tell Jo, will you stay here a minute?" Again Jesse nodded, suddenly not wanting to make the return journey to the ICU alone.
It was only as he made his way back towards his wife that Steve realised how pale she was, how tired looking and he quickly sat back in the chair next to her, pulling her into his arms. "Honey, go home, let me call Juan, you need to be in bed not sitting here in a hard chair."
"Steve, I can't, she's my best friend, what if … if … Jesse's right? I want to get a chance to see her an' say goodbye." The tears began again, still being so close to the surface after Alex's explanation that it seemed to her that they hadn't actually stopped at all.
"Jo, let me drive you. If you explain to Jesse he'll let you see her, or better still wait until the morning and then, when you're rested and more able to cope, you could spend some time with her." Alex had already begun to worry about Jo, and was pleased to be able to offer to run her home.
"I don't know what to do." Her voice was so soft and quiet that Steve's heart broke for her. He pulled her a little closer and, ignoring the vision it presented to him, stroked her hair, murmuring in her ear as he did so.
"Shhh, no one does, not in this situation. But you just had a major operation yourself, I promise you, if anything happens, good or bad, I'll call, ok?" He felt her nod her head against his cheek and he moved slightly to gently kiss her lips.
"Go with Alex, and I'll see you in an hour or so."
"You'll come home?" Jo looked into his eyes, hope sounding in her voice.
"Yes, I'm not family, I can't stay with her and I have to go to the station tomorrow, I can't let Cheryl handle all this alone." Again she nodded at him, but he could see a difference, an acceptance of what he was saying, as long as he joined her soon.
Alex moved over then and carefully they helped her to her feet. "Why don't I get a chair, I can wheel you out to the car, just for tonight?"
"No, no, let me walk, I need to, a little way, so I don't seize up altogether."
Steve kissed Jo again, this time with a little more fervour and then watched as she, Alex and Shannon made their way to one elevator and he returned to where he could see his friend standing, a young nurse talking with him, in almost the same position as when he had left him.
Just for a moment he wished that there was someone to take over his responsibilities, someone to send him off home to bed and worry for him. There was his dad, of course, but he was already asleep, and just as involved as he was himself. Shaking his head Steve almost laughed, he was getting fanciful and too affected by what was happening. He had time for neither emotion, not until no one else needed him to be there for them.
"Ok?" He touched Jesse's shoulder, removing his hand almost immediately.
"Yeah, let's go." He was pressing the button on the control panel as he spoke, over and over again, as if the constant action would cause the elevator to get to its destination quicker than if just left to its own devices. Steve said nothing, knowing that Jesse needed to be doing something, anything; even if it was just the repetitive movement he could see.
Finally, agonisingly slowly, it seemed, the doors opened and both men stepped inside. The journey was silent until they stepped out into the hushed, definitely tenser atmosphere of the ICU and then, as they reached the room next to Rae's, Jesse paused and Steve turned and looked at him.
"Steve, she … I know you saw her when she … when she fell, but … it's, well, it's worse now." Jesse didn't think he would ever forget the sight of his wife when he had seen her in her room for the first time. Her face swollen almost beyond recognition, her body so still, so pale, in comparison to the livid bruises already coming out, so silent apart from the machines breathing for her, and he knew that it would affect his friend just as much as it had him. Jesse saw Steve take a deep breath before making a small step forward, and then together they walked into her room.
ooo
Martin had struggled with his words and emotions, and Cheryl knew that it was only going to get worse. He was upset enough just with the fact that Rae had been attacked in the street, and in anyone else's life that would probably be the worst thing that happened to them, but their friend seemed to attract trouble and the news she had to tell him later would be even worse for him than the information he had given to her.
It was clear that Martin had been thinking about things for a good while. A tablet of paper was on the table and he had suddenly remembered it half way through his conversation, getting up and retrieving it so that he could use it to help him.
Although Martin had been slowed considerably by his accident, his main senses, hearing, sight, smell were still fine. He knew he had seen Wayne before, had definitely heard him and he said the aftershave the man wore was distinctive and he had smelt it in the air a couple of times.
This information was worrying to Cheryl, she knew that the ultimate target wasn't Rae at all, nor Anneya who had also been attacked, but Jo Sloan and she wondered whether there was any connection between this man, the wife of her ex-partner and the murder of their accountant. It was a long shot, but she was paid to look at long shots. Cheryl knew that Jo would be at the hospital with Steve, but Daniel would be home, as well as the butler and so, fearing for their safety, she put a call through to the local police department, introducing herself as she did so.
ooo
The cell itself was dark, the only light shining on the sleeping area enabling anyone outside to see who was where during the night. He was alone, but the man in the next cell, apparently a drug pusher from Barstow, could be heard loud and clear, snoring and grunting. Every time he moved or turned over the entire bed would shift and rattle breaking the silence or merging with his snorts. Matthew didn't think he'd ever felt so alone. Dominic had disappeared inside of him, unable to face the failure of being discovered, of being caught. They had let Nicholas take over when they were questioned, not that they'd had any choice in the matter, but now, as he sat cold and tired but unable to sleep, Matthew had to endure the jailhouse unaided.
The murders had disturbed him, he hadn't been strong enough to stop or prevent the urges, hadn't been able to force his way to the front and become the dominant character when they were on a date, and now he was paying for his failure.
The second interview of the day had scared him. The female detective, so pretty, so tough, hadn't come back alone; she had been accompanied by a tall, black man in a dark suit. He looked menacing, and Matthew had felt very intimidated, retreating further back into himself along with Dominic, letting a more than willing Nicholas take the lead once again.
For a while Matthew sat in the dark, wondering whether to lie down and attempt to sleep or maybe walk around for a while, try and imagine he was back in his apartment with his treasures and memories. Even though he didn't get to his feet the rooms swam into view in his mind, the two bedrooms where he and Dominic slept, and the third one, the room where his special things were kept. The kitchen, the lounge where he had sat watching the news reports of his escapades, the fire escape. He shuddered as he thought of what had happened there that morning.
The tall American cop, the lieutenant, had always bugged Dominic. He was so sure of himself, so confident that he would catch the person they had called the Red Rose Killer, and Matthew knew that, although he would never admit it, for the first time Dominic had been just a little afraid. The female cop, who was English and well known, had excited Dominic who recognised her from the newspapers, remembered seeing her face on TV in the past and he had risen to the challenge of defeating her. The test there had been to beat someone who was famous, someone who was, supposedly, an excellent police officer on both sides of the Atlantic, but to try and kill her, Matthew still couldn't believe they had done that.
They, he could no longer blame it on Dominic, or even Nicholas, who spent most of the time hiding away, guiding things from the background, it was all of them, a combination of all of them who had killed those women, and Matthew knew that if they ever got the chance they would do it again.
If they were free they would get the chance, all those women, flaunting themselves, letting their long hair flow free, long thick curtains of blond hair, shining, almost shimmering as they walked, and just asking for someone like them to take control. Sometimes the hair had been held up in a braid, or with barrettes, and Susan had curled hers, it had fallen onto her shoulders and back bouncing gently as she walked. She had escaped him, taking a route where he was more likely to be discovered, and Dominic had let himself be seduced by her. Followed her into an area where people worked around the clock, where there would be doctors and nurses walking the paths, noticing what was happening, almost all the time. He knew why he had gone along with it of course; it was all down to The One. The One whose hair he didn't have, had wanted so desperately, had tried to find for years, and had finally discovered on Susan. If The One hadn't cut her hair, hadn't planned to leave him, then he wouldn't be here right now, sitting in a jail house, they would have stayed together, and he would have been happy.
All he had ever wanted was for them to be together. She'd said that he was possessive, wouldn't let her live her own life, but that wasn't true. At least it wasn't true when he was the dominant one. The dominant one, who was he kidding? He did come to the front, was allowed to be an individual, like he was now, but there was always a reason for it, just as there was a reason that it was Dominic who arranged and went on the dates, or Nicholas who organized and kept the third room going, spoke to the cops, dealt with things quietly, and, Matthew knew, made his own thoughts, dreams and needs come true through Dominic, and his basic requirements happen through him.
A light suddenly became brighter in the hallway outside his cell, he heard footsteps and then a tall, burly man stopped outside the bars to his small cage.
"So you're the Red Rose Killer, huh? The man who murdered all those women and pushed a cop off a fire escape. I ought to kill you right here and now. But you know what? I won't, because I want to see you squirm, I want to see your sorry butt in a courtroom and then on a closed-circuit TV screen as they pump that lethal liquid into your veins, Boy. I am gonna see you die!"
The light went out again; Matthew retreated inside, hid in the recesses of his mind, and, as no one volunteered to come forward, the figure sitting on the bunk slid to the floor, no longer aware of his location or circumstances.
ooo
He had been warned, told that the way she looked would shock him but still he was unprepared. Steve had put his hand over his mouth, trying to cover the sounds and look of horror so that he wouldn't upset Jesse any more than he already was, but he knew he hadn't succeeded and finally, incapable of looking any longer, he had to turn away and place his forehead against the cold glass of the window, not strong enough to take in what he was seeing apart from the fact that it was more awful than anyone could ever have warned him about.
Jesse didn't go to him; he let him gather himself sufficiently until he felt able to cope alone. Knowing, even in his own distress, that Steve would need the time but not the assistance. Finally, he saw the big shoulders heave one last time and then his friend turned, his face haunted, distraught, and came closer again.
"Tell me." Steve knew that Jesse would have checked the charts, looked at the monitors while he was gathering himself together and he needed the most up-to-date information he could get.
"Things are still the same. It's gonna be a long road, but I meant what I said, Steve. If it comes to that point then I will let go." Although he was strong in his conviction Jesse spoke carefully, walking outside the door as he did so, knowing that there was a chance his wife could hear him.
"If that happens I'll support you, you know that, but you need to remember it will affect a lot of people. If it's a case of turning machines off you are bound to meet some resistance." Steve couldn't believe he was saying these words, but he knew that he had to try and get his point across.
"She's an influential person in so many lives, not just yours and the girls, her other children, even though she doesn't see them very often, she's still their mom, Jo, Dad, Amanda, Alex, Martin, they love her, they will find this very hard, to know that someone is going to flip a switch and condemn her to death will be tough for them to take." And me, Steve didn't include himself in his vocalized list, but the thought of Rae no longer being around wasn't something he could deal with, not yet anyway.
"Yeah, I know, but she's fought so long and so hard, overcoming so many things, but this time, this time is the worst ever. She will never recover from this." Jesse let his eyes stray to Rae's face and suddenly couldn't talk any longer.
"Don't underestimate her, and don't do what I just said, don't condemn her, not yet. This is the first day, sure it might get worse, but it will get better eventually, you have to believe that, wait, get over your own shock, and then analyse the situation again, ok?"
Mutely he nodded, but then, his emotions on a rollercoaster, tears filled his eyes. "I don't want to lose her, I won't kill her, pull the plug, whatever, not unless I know there's no hope. She wouldn't want any less of me. Oh, God, Steve, how can we be talking about this?" Jesse pressed his face into his hands and then felt the reassuring strength of his friend beside him. "It's just … I've seen these types of case before, seen what the person, the family has gone through, and then the patient has died anyway. Never gotten past the stage that Rae is at now. I want to be positive, to think of the cases where things did get better, but I can't, all I can see is the wrong conclusion, how can I think like that?"
"Jess, you're a doctor, of course you know the downs as well as the ups. Do you think Dad hasn't felt that way with me? You are so open, so clear in what you're thinking, saying, that it doesn't occur to you to keep this type of thing hidden from your friends. But, I promise you, as far as I am concerned, this conversation never happened, ok? I have no intention of sharing it with anyone, you had to let it out, discuss it with someone, that's done now. Go sit with your wife, and then, in the morning, one of us will come and take over and you can go home and get some rest, and try to put things into a different perspective."
"Thanks, Steve." His face, Steve thought, was a little less anxious, his eyes a little less haunted and, hoping that he had helped, he watched as Jesse walked back into the room and sat beside Rae.
"Jess," he waited until they made eye contact, "tell her I love her and I'm rooting for her, ok?" This time there was a small smile and a nod and then Steve turned away, not knowing what to do next, but realising that he wasn't ready to go home himself, not for a while at least.
ooo
The NICU was quiet and dark, occasionally one of the mobiles above a sleeping baby would glint in the soft lights or the lamp across the nurse's desk. Belinda was sitting, a hot coffee between her hands, wishing that she didn't have to do one set of nights every two months.
She had worked too long in the unit to lose her professionalism, but she did get attached to the babies in her care. As she looked around she could see that the four small bundles that were hers right now were all sleeping soundly, their monitors blinking in the regulatory and reassuring way that they should, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
A noise caught her attention, she knew what it was, but certainly didn't expect to hear it at this late hour. Quietly getting to her feet she made her way out into the room so that she could see the entrance way and scrub area where parents made themselves clean enough to touch their own children.
The tall figure was easily identifiable, even with his back to her and, although surprised, she smiled. Maybe he had just finished a late duty and wanted to see his son before heading home, or maybe he was about to start an early one and planned to begin his day with Jayden. Whatever it was it would be nice to have some other adult company for a little while, even if it wasn't her he had come to see.
When he turned toward her though all those thoughts fled her mind, he was suffering, there was no doubt and so she stepped back into the dimness of a corner letting him pass her without saying a word.
Steve sat at Jayden's crib and let out a huge sigh. Two people in his world, two of the most important, were both fighting for their lives, neither one of them knowing how much everyone was fighting with them. He knew that once she was conscious Rae would know, or would she? It had taken her a while to recover when she had been attacked by an animal rights extremist, but she'd done it. Two assaults on her brain, serious violent assaults, could well be one too many, and he had no idea if she could recover again, she may never know, just as Jayden may never know, how much people were praying for her.
His son moved his left arm slightly, splaying his fingers out and then clenching them again, it was just a tiny movement, just a little action, but it was the one that took Steve over the edge. It was something that any baby would do, a normal reaction to not being quite comfy, and it broke his heart.
Belinda heard the gulp of air, recognised the pain and tears that it contained and moved closer to where Steve was sitting.
"Steve? Is there anything I can get you?" Stupid question, but she didn't want to alarm or upset him any more than he already was.
"Belinda?" He looked shocked, but then immensely relieved, he seemed to almost slump in his chair and alarmed she reached out and touched him.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"Yes, oh, yes, please." Although he didn't think he sounded desperate he knew he was, but he also knew that finally he could unburden himself, without adding to any of his friends' or family's worries.
"We have a quiet room for parents, there isn't anyone occupying it right now, why don't we go and sit awhile?" She watched as he got to his feet and then felt his presence as he followed her towards a door at the back of the unit. She unlocked it and let him enter in front of her. Then, switching the sign to say 'in use', she spoke again.
"I just need to get me a replacement for a little while and I'll be back. Steve, get rid of the mask, sit, relax, I won't be more than five minutes." There was no reply but she wasn't surprised, right now Belinda had a feeling that words were beyond the capabilities of Steve Sloan.
ooo
The detective who had come out from Beverly Hills police station had been called Burt McKinley. About fifty years old, he had worn a hat, been more than a little overweight, drank his coffee strong and black and whistled appreciatively at both the house and Cheryl when he arrived. All in all, she thought, he was just the type of officer not to make it onto the recruitment posters.
Before going into the living room, where Martin was sitting on the sofa trying to fill in a crossword in one of the books Rae had bought him, Cheryl told Detective McKinley not to mention what had happened to Detective Yeager, who was a close personal friend, that she would deal with it herself later. She also asked him to take everything slowly, explaining a little of what had happened to her boyfriend, not to make excuses for his behaviour but hopefully to save him pain and embarrassment.
On the first score the cop came through, but she might as well have saved her breath on the second. McKinley had spoken in a slow and exaggerated manner, tapped his pencil on the table as he waited for answers, drank his coffee with an impatient air, even got to his feet and wandered the room, picking up a picture here, an ornament there, and all the time Martin had gotten more and more agitated until, in the end, he stood up as well.
"I was cop."
"Pardon?" Burt put down the display box with the badge inside that indicated just that fact and moved back across the room. "What did you say, Son?"
Slowly Martin repeated himself. "I said I was cop."
"I know that, I saw your badge over there? Guess you're not doing the job any more then?"
"I gardener, nice work, Rae my friend." The smile was still the same; still the old Martin and Cheryl loved to see it, now though it tore at her, making her angry that he was trying to ingratiate himself with this man.
"Don't see why that has anything to do with this. You saw a man; you think he attacked a friend and threatened another. It's taken us what, oooh, about twenty minutes to get this far."
The smile disappeared, and this time his voice was hard as he spoke. "I was good cop … hom … homicide. I interviewed. Sometimes people upset, sometimes like me … slow." He stopped, that was a lot of words, he had to gather himself before he could speak again. The older man just looked at him, wondering what was coming next.
"I was patient. You rude." There, he'd said it. Sitting back down Martin handed over his tablet of paper. "I embarrass you. Read this instead." Then, knowing that a slow walk from the room would kill the effect he rested his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes.
"Ok. Thanks, this is a help. We'll get on it right away. This Jo Sloan, she lives two doors away from you?" It had taken him ten minutes to note down the salient points from Robertson's slightly rambling words.
Burt had said nothing about Martin's outburst, but he had seen the flash of delight in the woman's eyes, and felt the niggle of guilt as he realised that he had let his impatience affect the way he behaved.
"Yeah, she does, but not now, Detective, maybe call in the morning instead." Cheryl knew that however much this needed to be sorted out, one o'clock in the morning wasn't the time. If she was honest it wasn't the time she would have chosen to have another cop call at the house, but Martin would have fretted and worried all night, and so she had decided to start things off at this ungodly hour.
"Ok, but I'll get a squad car to cruise past every twenty minutes or so." He paused a moment, knowing that he had a problem with what he'd read, but finally wanting to treat the young man with some respect. "I've been a cop in Beverly Hills a long time, Sir, Ma'am, I don't see how this guy was missed by other people if he was just watching and waiting. If it was a residential suburb then yeah, no problem, once it gets to ten in the morning most houses are empty or have just moms and babies in them. But here, where it isn't normal by any means, people are coming and going at all hours. Not just the residents, but servants, tradesmen, hairdressers, manicurists, whoever you can think of, to pamper and preen, deliver, and all the other things that rich folks get up to. Why wasn't he seen and mentioned before?"
"I have no idea, but from what was said to various people he's been watching for a while. Mrs Sloan is a wealthy woman; we need to catch this guy." Cheryl could see that Martin's tirade, whilst not angry by anyone else's standards but outright fury from him, had made its point. The detective was speaking to both of them, no longer shouting or enunciating overtly to Martin and she cheered for the positive response.
"I'll be in touch again tomorrow, or today I guess. I can reach you here, Sir? And you, Ma'am?" He wrote down the details, and then as he picked up his hat from the dining room table spoke again. "I owe you an apology, you were right, I was rude." Then without another word he showed himself out as Martin grinned from ear to ear.
ooo
He had no idea how long he had sat on his own, it could have been two minutes, could have been twenty, but Steve was glad of the time to try and regain his composure. If he looked at things rationally he guessed he was suffering a little from shock himself, and he hadn't had a worry free day since Jo had collapsed in the street and been rushed into the hospital. Finally, being honest with himself, he realised that he wasn't sure just how many more emergencies or traumas he could take right now.
"Steve?" The voice, one that made him smile because he associated it with his son, cut into the air and he looked up. A cup of coffee was put on the table next to him and then, to his surprise, a soft hand rested over the top of his.
"You look like you have some things you wanna let out. Anything you say to me in this room stays in this room. I promise you that."
Just nodding Steve picked up the mug. He took two deep draughts from it, concentrating on the feeling of heat as the liquid flowed down inside of him and then, for a moment once he had replaced it on the table, he closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry. I guess coming to see Jayden wasn't the right thing to do, but I … I didn't want to leave, not quite yet."
"Ok, well, in case you haven't seen, there is even a bed in here; you can rest on there for a while if you like before going home, if you need to that is."
He hadn't noticed, but now that she mentioned it his body almost cried out for relief, for a chance to shut out all the awfulness surrounding him, but he forced it back. "Thank you.
"You know I'm a cop, right?" He saw her nod, he had known she did, it was just a place to start. "My partner, Rae, she's been in here to see Jayden, once, I think." He paused, not wanting to say anything more but knowing that he had to explain, to get into the flow of things but felt relief wash over him as he discovered he didn't have to after all.
"She's the one who was so badly hurt today? Oh, my goodness, Steve, I had no idea, I'm sorry." Her hand had found its way back over his own, and he didn't move away. The warmth and softness was helping him to keep grounded.
"Yeah, I … I was there, I saw it. I could do nothing. Nothing!" He knew, even in his distress not to shout, but his hands clenched into fists, just for an instant before he consciously relaxed them again. "We've been together for seven years; she's one of the best partners' I've ever had, probably the best. My son is lying in there, he came early, and there was nothing I could do then either, nothing medicine could do to keep him where he should be. God, Belinda, I feel so helpless, so alone, I have no idea how to help my wife, my son, my friends … I have no idea how to help myself."
"Oh, Honey, shhh." The term of endearment sprang easily from her lips, she was a friendly, compassionate person, who always helped if she could and, as she saw a tear fall onto his cheek, Belinda put her arms around him and felt him lean into her as his shoulders heaved, and finally, she thought, he let things go.
The tears hadn't lasted long, he didn't cry easily and he was always aware of the need to stop when they did start. Belinda had said nothing to him as he sobbed, she had hardly moved, just holding on to him and letting him follow his own lead. Now though, as he looked up shame faced, she smiled and shook her head.
"There is no need to look like that; I think you needed to do that way more than even you realise. We can't be strong all of the time, even though we would like to be. Everyone feels helpless sometimes, but it takes a big man to admit it. You have to let things out every once in a while, everyone does."
"I know … but I've always been that way. Dad, Amanda, Jesse, they've all told me to let go, but they've needed me to be there for them too. And now …"
"Now you have two sons instead of one, you have a wife who is recovering from major surgery as well as the shock of having her baby in the NICU. You have your partner in Intensive Care and you're still trying to be the rock that everyone can lean on." She stopped as he looked at her, a rueful smile on his face, but soon spoke again.
"You know those little stones you see lying around all over the place?"
"Where?"
"Oh, everywhere you go, in the parking lot, at the park, on the beach."
He nodded, looking confused, "Well, they used to be part of big rocks too once. But they got chipped away at and chipped away at until the rock itself no longer existed. Each time you help someone, give of yourself you need to be kind to, and think of, Steve Sloan as well. Even if that means just sitting watching the sunset alone, or taking ten extra minutes in bed on a Sunday morning. You know that, don't you?"
"Yeah I do, although I've not thought of it in that way. What else I need is someone, now and then, to just talk to, someone not involved. This time you draw the short straw, I'm sorry, but thankful too."
"Those other straws must have been all the same length as the one I chose." Her smile was beautiful, it lit up her face and he was able to smile back.
"I know how you feel to a certain extent. I work with seriously ill babies; the stress sometimes is overwhelming especially when there is nothing we can do except ease their path through this life and into the next. I'm not the best at following my own advice, but I'm glad you came here, I'm glad you opened up a little bit. If you need to do it again, just give me a shout. Now, if I were you I'd lay me down for about thirty minutes and close my eyes. Especially as there is a ravishingly beautiful, dedicated and efficient nurse nearby who would be happy to come wake you and send you on your way."
Steve appreciated the lightening of the mood, he appreciated her, and wished he had the courage to tell her that yes, she was beautiful and he was glad he'd come to her as well. Instead though he carefully extricated himself from the blue gown, lay down on the neatly made bed and closed his eyes, knowing that he had found what he wanted, a safe place to let things go without hurting or upsetting anyone. And even with all the unhappiness that surrounded him right now he knew he was still a very lucky man.