Murder at Saint Mary's

Chapter 13

13.1

The phone in Ironside's office rang. Eve looked up from the chief's desk where she was going over more police department faxes regarding their killer. She reached for the phone on her boss' desk, picked it up and greeted the caller. "Chief Ironside's office.

"Eve, it's Duffy. A call just came through from the officer protecting Todd Prentis. Eve, he got to him. Prentis is dead."

Eve drew in a breath. "The chief is not going to be happy about this. Did you tell him?"

"No way! That's your job. Besides, I did not want to blow his cover. He is supposed to be in serious condition, remember? Only his closest family would be allowed to see him and you, Mark and Ed would be the closest thing he has to it in San Francisco besides his Aunt Victoria."

"Oh my gosh... his Aunt Victoria and his brother from Los Angeles. Neither of them have been called and told what is going on here. They will be worried sick when the papers come out this morning. I better call them," Eve said with worry.

"Do you want me to call Ed or let homicide handle it? Carl just arrived at the hospital."

"I'll call Ed. Are you at the hospital right now?"

"Yes," Duffy answered, not liking where this was going.

"Check with Dr. Peter Witt. Have him get you in to see the chief. He needs to know what is going on," Eve said.

"Oh come on Eve, you know how the chief hates bad news. I don't want to be the one to tell him."

"How do you think he will like it if he finds out you knew and did not tell him?"

"Eve... "

"That is an order, Officer." Eve understood no one wanted to deliver bad news to the chief but she did not have time to argue with him.

"Alright I will tell him."

"Thank you, Officer Duffy," Eve replied and hung up the phone. She picked it back up and dialed Ed's cell phone number.

"Sergeant Brown."

"Ed, it's Eve. Duffy just called Todd Prentis has been shot and killed."

"Oh boy, the chief going to love this. Where did the shooting take place?"

"At Prentis' home. He was just pulling into the driveway when it happened. Sounds like a pro."

"I better get over there. Has the chief been informed?"

"Duffy's taking care of that."

"I don't envy him. I'll talk to you later."

Eve hung up the phone and then picked it back up. She dialed the phone number for Ironside's brother in Los Angeles.

13.2

Robert Duvalier looked at the fax in front of him. The man in the sketch looked familiar or was it just his imagination? Could it be that he wanted to help his father so bad that in his mind, he wanted the man to be familiar?

He has been concentrating so intensely on the sketch that he did not hear Frank come up behind. " Who is that?"

"My father sent it over. This is the man that has been doing the killing at Saint Mary's Hospital. Eve said that my he believes that he is a professional hitman."

Frank looked at the sketch. "He does not even look the least bit familiar."

Robert look at it again. "I have seen this man before. I know I have."

"Do you think he might have been a member of the underground movement?" Frank took another look at the sketch.

"It doesn't make sense. Why would a man who makes his living killing people bother with the revolution?"

"I don't know, Robert. If you think that there is a possibility that you can identify this man for Chief Ironside, then go ahead and work on it."

Robert looked up surprised. "But what aboout the cases you have already assigned me?"

"I will put someone else on them until you identify this man. After all, who am I to stand in the way of you impressing your father?" Frank smiled at the the young man.

Robert smiled back. "What make you think I am trying to impress him?"

"Come on, your father is only the most famous detective in the world. What son would not to impress him with his detective skills?"

"Alright, I admit it... but only a little."

Frank laughed. "Then go ahead... impress him."

Robert go up and head to files on the revolution.

13.3

One down, two more to go. Haynes sat alone in the doctor's kitchen. Never before had any police department ever been able to identify him. He knew that was over now. Ironside had seen his face. At least that aid of his was killed when he shot him. Then again, maybe he wasn't.

Once before Sanger's death had been announced in the San Francisco newspapers. It had been faked to keep the people trying to kill him from knowingbthat he was still alive. Could Ironside be doing that very thing again? What about Ironside himself? How could he have hit the detective? When the bullet entered his chest, Haynes was sure he had jerked resulting in Sanger being killed... if he was indeed dead at all.

Morgan Haynes shook his head. He felt like he was in a fog. His chest hurt. Nausea threatened to overtake him and his strength had been completely drained away in his outing to eliminate Todd Prentis. Now added to his injuries, was a rather larger gash in his right knee. It was a good thing he had learned to sew stitches because it had required seven of them to close the wound.

If that had not been bad enough, he had lost control of the rifle which had landed somewhere in the bushes that lined the entire length of the garage. He had been forced to leave it behind. Now that damn Ironside would have his fingerprints. He would not be able to match them up with anything but if Ironside were to capture him, he would be able to tie him to Todd Prentis' murder. The murders at the hospital had just become irrelevant. All it would take would be one murder to get the death penalty. Ironside would not need to tie him to the murders at the hospital.

He would have to go back in hopes the police had not found it. It would have been concealed in the bushes. They may have overlooked it. It was entirely possible.

Why had he gotten involved in such an Mickey Mouse scheme? He was a professional and he had allowed that damn doctor to talk him into it. There was nothing the good doctor could know about him that could have hurt him. He could just as easily taken the doctor out.

Maybe it was the thrill of going right past all of those people and posing as one of them... killing the victims and walking out of that hospital untouched and unknown. Could it be that he was so good as an assassin that it had become boring? Maybe it was thrill of possibly being caught. It certainly made the killings more interesting.

No, he knew it was none of that. His interest had only been stirred to the surface when he found out Sister Agatha had a very important friend... Chief Robert T. Ironside. Morgan knew it was the sole reason for entering into the doctor's little game.

He had to admit it had been profitable. With every killing the insurane had paid off handsomely. It had been thrilling and exhilarating. What he hoped happened had. The nosy nun had gone running to Ironside with her suspicions and he had come running... well, rolling would be more the word. Haynes chuckled.

Now he was in a war of wits and nerves with the famous detective and he had gotten the best of him... at least until now.

Ironside may not know his name but he knew his face. Morgan tried to think if there as anyone, anywhere that could identify him. For, if there were, Robert Ironside was the man that could find them. Now he might have the rifle. What a mess. How could he call himself a professional after all of the amateur mistakes he had made? Had Ironside forced him to make mistakes? No, he was giving him too much credit. He should have checked out the roof ahead of time. He would have known how slippery it was going down. He still did not understand why he had no trouble going up and coming down had been such a disaster.

He had to find out if Mark Sanger was alive or not. He also had to kill Ironside but before he could do that, he had to find out for sure whether Ironside was setting a trap. The detective had underestimated him if he thought he was going to willingly fall into that trap. He would not make any further mistakes.

But how could he do all this when he could barely stand up? Maybe he would have to lay low for a few days until the antibiotics took hold. No, he did not have time to do that. Who knew when that damn nun would come out of the coma and she certainly would. He had to remove all witness that saw him. There was nothing he could do about the police sketch he was sure Ironside had had drawn. It was out there and he would have to live with the idea that police enforcement the world over would now see his face and classify him as a paid assassin. Haynes swore under his breath. Damn Ironside! He would have to retire from the business. There was no way he would be able to continue.

Morgan wanted Ironside. He wanted to be the one to take him out. When he did, he would let the police world know who finally bested the renowned detective. First thing, first… he would check on Sanger.

Haynes reached for the phone and dialed Saint Mary's hospital. When the receptionist answered, he told her, "I would like Mark Sanger's room."

"One moment while I check for his room number for you." There was silence on the other end for a moment until receptionist came back on the line. "I am sorry sir, but we have no one admitted to the hospital by that name."

Morgan did not believe it. He was sure Sanger had been shot. He pulled a light sweater over his head, put his arms through the sleeves and pulled on. Haynes grabbed the keys from the table and struggled towards the door.

13.4

Sgt. Ed Brown stopped his Ford at the end of Dr. Prentis' driveway. He shut off the engine and walked up the driveway. "Hello, Harry. What do you have?"

"There was no way I could stop it, Sergeant. As soon as Prentis pulled up here, I heard one shot fired. It went right through his windshield and hit him right beween the eyes. He was dead instantly," Harry informed him.

"That answers the question as to whether you were able to get a statement regarding the shooter from him," Ed sighed.

"Not a chance, Ed. He was dead as soon…"

"I know, I know. Ed stared at the scene in frustration. Were they ever going to get a break in this case? "The chief was right about the shooter though; the man was a professional. Clean hit… one rifle shot right through the windshield." He looked around and then turned back to the officer. "The shot had to have come from the top of the garage directly in front of the driveway."

"I figured the same thing. I went up there myself. Nothing there. The man did not leave anything behind. We are dusting for print but you know the score. This was a professional hit."

"You won't find any prints." Ed walked over to Todd Prentis' vehicle. Ed opened the door to the car and looked at Prentis. Harry was right. There was no doubt it was a professional job. He looked back at Harry and inquired, "Didn't you see the man come down off the roof of the garage?"

"No, but then I was running full out to get to Prentis. If there had been any chance that he was alive…"

"Alright. I am going up on the roof and see if I can spot anything," Ed said.

"You won't find a thing. Like I said it was a pro hit."

Ed nodded and turned around. He would see for himself. He had no doubt the chief would asked him if he checked. Brown went around to the side of the garage. A large garbage dumpster the city provide for daily trash and recyclable cans and bottles woud serve as a vehicle to the roof. Ed climbed up on it. Reaching up, he grabbed the edge of the of the roof and pulled his long, lankly body upward. Omce he achieved access, he was careful to respect the slope of the roof. The last thing he wanted was to end up in a hospital bed alongside the chief.

He headed toward the area that was the most logical for the killer to have fired the shot. Harry seemed to be correct. After careful investigation of the area, Ed came up empty-handed. Suddenly Brown slipped and slid down the side of the roof. As he reached the edge of garage roof, Ed grabbed the flagpole that was attached. Sliding over the edge, Ed heard the pole crack but it did not give way. He let go of the pole, jumped the height of the garage to the grounds and rolled in order to prevent injury. Brown stood up uninjured.

Harry came running over to him. "Ed, are you all right?"

"Yes. Nothing broken. I guess I did not realize how slippery that roof was. It didn't seem that way going up."

Harry smiled. "If it makes you feel any better I did the exact same thing."

Ed turned and looked at him. "What did you say?"

"I said I did the same thing… why?"

"If we both slid down the side of the garage roof, then what are the chances the killer did the same thing?"

Harry shrugged. "I would guess the chances are pretty good. What's your point?"

"The point is, assuming we were not carrying anything in our hands and the killer had a rifle, he might not have fared as well as we did."

"Yea, so?"

"So just maybe he hurt himself," Ed said with a grin.

"Again… so?"

"So, if he fell and hit the ground, he might have either broken something or better yet, split his skin somewhere and left blood," Ed explained. He walked back over to the cement beside the garage. "Let's find out."

Harry joined Ed as the two men began looking around on the ground. "Ed, over here!" shouted Harry. Ed joined him as Harry pointed to the ground. "You guess right. Look… blood."

"Guessed? You don't guess when you work for Robert Ironside. You deduce, deduct…"

"And decide. Yea, I have heard that from him before," Harry said, cutting Ed off.

"I want a sample of that blood, Harry."

"You got it, Ed. Anything else?"

Ed looked over at the bushes and look up at the roof of the garage. "You don't suppose…?"

"Suppose what?"

"We could not be that lucky," Ed said, shaking his head.

"Lucky? What the hell are you talking about?"

"The bushes. We can be pretty sure the killer fell off the garage. What are the chances he could not hold on to the rifle? And… if he couldn't… he might not have had time to retrieve it."

Harry watched Ed as he looked from one end of the garage to the other. "You think there is a chance he dropped it? Ed, take a look around, do you see a rifle around here?"

"No, but maybe you are not looking in the right place." Ed walked over the bushes. He glanced up to see where he had slid down the roof. Entering the bushes where he had come down from the roof, he began searching for what he hoped would be a rifle. "Come on, Harry, give me a hand."

Harry entered the bushes and joined the search. With a few minutes, Ed had located the rifle. "Well, look what we have here." He pulled a handkerchief out of his suit coat and picked the rifle up. Bring it out of the bushes, he handed it to Harry. "You know what to do."

"I'll call you as soon as I know anything."

13.5

Sweat poured down Morgan Haynes's face. It might as well be a hundred degrees. Haynes knew he was running a fever. He would have to see the doctor. He could not afford to get sick. He had too much to do.

He looked across the street at Police Headquarters. He knew Mark Sanger would be visiting Ironside… if Mark Sanger were not in the hospital. He watched as Ironside's van pulled out of the police garage. It sat blocking the entrance. Four police officers came out of the building. They looked around and then one of them walked over to the door of the building and opened it. Out stepped Mark Stanger… or was it Mark Sanger? From where he was sitting, it certainly looked like him. He was Sanger's height and build.

Haynes reached into the glove compartment of the car and pulled out a pair of opera glasses. He put them up to his eyes and directed them at the young black man who was heading toward the driver's door of the van. Haynes studied the man and smiled. Nice try, Ironside but that is not Sanger. So, he was still alive. The smile disappeared from his face. That would mean that he was likely in the same hospital as Ironside. How was he going to get into that hospital and kill three people who would all have police protection? The odds of success were certainly not in his favor.

He decided he could take out Sanger at any time as soon as he was released from the hospital. The nun would just as easy. He could get into Police Headquarters and remove the rifle from the evidence room. That was the most damaging piece of evidence against him. It was the biggest threat against him along with Ironside. Even if he got the rifle, Ironside would never give up. He would keep coming after him. He had to remove him as a threat. Sanger and the nun could wait. He had to go to the hospital and eliminate Ironside.

As soon as the Ironside's van pulled away, Morgan Haynes went into the police garage. He spotted a uniform officer. Parking the car, he headed for the officer. Haynes pulled his silenced gun out of his jacket pocket and put his gun hand behind his back. Picking up speed, he gained on the police officer. When he had gotten close enough, he called out, "Officer, can you help me with directions to Ironside's office?" As soon as the officer turned around, Haynes fired a shot directly into his forehead.

Haynes dragged him in behind a car. He glanced around and then undressed the dead officer. Within a few minutes, he emerged from behind the car dress in the dead officer's uniform. Haynes picked the lock on the nearest car trunk, dumped the officer inside and slammed it shut.