Chapter Twenty-Two
"Don't try to cover for your friends, Goldman," Trudeau snapped.
"That would be foolish," Oscar acknowledged. "I'm telling you the truth."
"Alright – we'll play along. The floor is yours." Trudeau crossed his arms and glared skeptically across the table.
"Rudy Wells managed to get something of a confession out of Marchetti," Oscar began.
"We know that."
"Personally, I didn't think there was enough on that tape to charge him. I wanted to make sure he never saw the light of day again – that he was locked away for good, either in that asylum or the worst hell-hole of a prison we could find for him. So I went to see him yesterday, to try and get him to talk about what he did...on the record," Oscar explained.
"And did he?" Hansen queried.
"No. In fact, the only thing he said to me was that he wanted to see his wife. I reminded him that she was still in the hospital – and that he had put her there – but for some reason, he was convinced that Jaime was coming to see him..."
- - -
"How long do you think she'll be asleep?" Steve queried.
Rudy poured two mugs of coffee and handed one to Steve. "You'll have time for a couple of these."
"Thanks. I – uh – didn't really get much sleep."
Rudy hesitated, but just had to ask. "Steve...how was it that you found me last night?"
"Right place, right time?"
"Maybe," Rudy allowed, "but what were you doing out there, in the middle of nowhere – in Maryland?"
"Sight-seeing?"
"Steve..."
"Let me talk to Jaime first, okay?"
"If you're planning to talk about yesterday, that might be a little difficult," Rudy told him. Steve raised an eyebrow in reply. "Jaime took a couple of nasty blows to her head."
"Really? How...bad?"
"Bad enough that she doesn't remember what happened. If you know -"
"I had no idea she was really hurt. She didn't tell me – I mean...I didn't know."
"Did you see Jaime yesterday?" Rudy demanded. (Was this the final puzzle piece?) "Steve, she's my patient. I need to know what happened to her."
"You're right," Steve admitted. "You do. Please....just let me see Jaime first, alright? I need to talk to her...alone."
- - -
Steve closed the door to Jaime's room and took the chair next to the bed. "Jaime....?" he said, very softly. At first, there was no response then slowly, she began to stir, wincing in pain as she rolled onto her side before she was fully awake. Her eyes fluttered open and she seemed startled that she wasn't alone. "It's only me," he told her gently. She panicked as though waking from a nightmare – or waking into one. "We need to talk," Steve whispered. "About last night...."
- - -
"...So that's really all I can tell you," Oscar concluded. "I saw Michael at 5:00, left him around 5:45 – and he was most definitely still alive. I spent a little time talking with Security and then I left."
"What did you discuss with hospital Security?" Hansen demanded.
"I wanted to make sure that any statements Marchetti might have made were properly documented – and that I was to be made aware of any visitors he might have had."
"Were you notified of any such visitors last night?"
"No, I was not." Oscar looked across the table at both men. "I'd like to continue in this investigation, but if you feel the need to pull me out -"
"I don't believe that's necessary," Hansen replied. "Once the Security guard in question verifies your arrival and departure times, we'll be able to clear you – no problem."
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