October 13, 1997
Port Charles, NY
Detective Alex Garcia took a deep breath as he merged onto the interstate in darkness. It should take them a little more than three hours to get to Chandler Enterprises in Pine Valley, PA so leaving at six o'clock in the morning made sense but that didn't mean he was happy about it. "I'm sorry to drag you along on this," he offered to his partner, Allison Jordan.
Allison shrugged her shoulders in the passenger seat. "It's ok, it's part of the job," she said.
Alex knew that was the right answer but he heard the apprehension in his partner's voice. It had to be hard to be a widowed single mom to an infant.
XXXXXXXX
"Has she woken up at all?" Dr. Alan Quartermaine asked as he stepped into Katherine Bell's room in the SICU.
"I just got here a few minutes ago but in report I was told that she opens eyes spontaneously and localizes pain but doesn't follow commands. I'm supposed to take her down for a repeat Head CT, do I need to leave the chest tube to suction?" Beth Maynard RN asked.
Alan concentrated on not revealing frustration in his face. Unfortunately, there were some nurses who would always try to do what was easiest or most convenient for them even if it wasn't really appropriate for the patient. Ironically those were usually the same nurses who really bought into the concept that nurses were the real heroes who kept physicians from killing patients. "The Chest Tube does need to remain to suction but you should be able to bring a portable suction device with you without issue," he said.
Beth Maynard rolled her eyes. "You say that because you don't have to bring the patient down to radiology. I swear this is the last time I'm letting someone float me to SICU," she said.
Alan decided it would be bad for him to express how glad he would be if she would stay out of the SICU as well. Instead he just stepped over to the bed, pulled out his stethoscope and started to auscultate.
XXXXXXXX
Ned Ashton took a final look at his sleeping wife before he crept from the master bedroom suite and started down the stairs. Even after his appeal to Monica the night before, he felt uncomfortable leaving Carly. It had been different when he had been married to Lois, both because she had traveled for work a lot more than he did and because she had always been so independent. Carly seemed so much more vulnerable.
XXXXXXXX
Abigail Donely Quartermaine stumbled into her own kitchen and grabbed desperately for a coffee mug. Only after she had poured the precious brown liquid and taken her first few swallows did she fully open her eyes. There were some advantages to having a husband that still went for his morning run just before the break of dawn, just as he had at seventeen when he was a Port Charles Police Department Cadet. Before leaving the house he always ran a scoop of beans through the grinder and started the drip percolator.
Abbie sat down on the kitchen window seat with her coffee as the sun began to rise over the Potomac. Technically it was a federal holiday, albeit one that carried more than a little baggage; but she was in the middle of trial preparations and really needed to go into the office for at least a half day. Then there was the issue that her nephew was supposed to be arriving at Reagan International Airport around ten o'clock. Since John had the day off; hopefully he could take the boys to soccer camp and then go collect Ned via the Metro. She smiled a little when she thought about how aghast her father in law would be to hear that his son and grandson were taking public transit. She remembered how she had nearly given the poor man a coronary event by suggesting that she could just take a cab. Apparently Quartermaines didn't take cabs. Who knew? Definitely not her.
She and John were from different worlds. She had overlooked that at first, initially because it hadn't really occurred to her that they could be. He had been a Port Charles Police Lieutenant when they met. She had grown up in Beacon Hill. Her father was a federal judge. Even at Harvard, she had never felt poor but, at least by Quartermaine standards, she supposed she was. Even when she had accepted that she had wanted to believe it didn't matter, it wouldn't matter. Most days she still agreed with that thought. But only most days.
"Good Morning," John said as he came into the kitchen after his run. He grabbed his own mug and started to fix his own cup of coffee.
"With every sip of coffee, I'm getting closer to that, I suppose." Abbie said.
John smiled. "I had to open the last pound of the mocha hazelnut this morning but Ned is supposed to be bringing replenishments from Uncommon Grounds when he comes," he said.
Uncommon Grounds was a coffee shop on Lexington Avenue in the Lilac Park neighborhood of Port Charles. ELQ's Venture Capital Division had provided some of their initial investment capital and still retained some ownership. It had opened in early 1993, only a few months before she and John had moved from Port Charles so he could attend law school at Georgetown University. She had really come to appreciate the place when she had been back in Port Charles prosecuting Damian Smith for the murder of her late colleague US Attorney, Bradley Ward Jr. They had great coffee and had been in walking distance of the Quartermaine Mansion for those times she needed to go for a walk before she said something she would regret. Basically, she had gone there daily during that time.
"In that case, maybe I'll have a second cup. I need to go into the office this morning and work on the Javier Perez trial. The boys have that soccer day camp which starts at nine. Can you drop them off before you go to collect Ned from the airport?"
"I can do that. Is this an all-day camp or do I pick them up after lunch?"
"Technically it goes all day but you should definitely pick Riley up after lunch. He will need a nap!" Abbie said. Their younger son had only turned four in February. She had intentionally selected a preschool program which included an afternoon nap.
"No problem, I don't really think Ned planned this trip as much of a social tour. I'm sure he can find something to work on before his FDA hearing tomorrow morning," John said.
XXXXXXXX
Incessant knocking pulled Alexis Davis from sleep. Groggily she forced herself upright and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It was almost seven but, in her opinion, still far too early to be conscious. "Just a minute," she called before she slid her legs over the side of the bed and stumbled over to the door of her suite.
"I am so sorry to awaken you Miss Alexis, but Master Nikolas never returned home last night. I can't reach Mr. Cassadine and I surmise he would not want me to involve the police regardless," Ms. Lansbury blurted out as soon as Alexis opened the door.
Many thoughts tumbled through Alexis's head. From the stories she had heard Audrey Hardy was anything but the prim and proper prude she tried to pass herself off as. In spite of the hypocrisy, she highly doubted that Audrey would allow her sixteen-year-old granddaughter to have overnight guests of the opposite sex. So, had Nikolas lied about his plans with Sarah? Or had something happened to him on the way home? Or perhaps the way there?
"No, Stefan would definitely not want you to involve our ignorant and inept local police. Anyway, there is no reason for alarm. I am sure that Nikolas just decided to stay in the family suite on the mainland. I will make sure he knows how much he has worried you and that an apology for that is expected forthwith."
Mrs. Lansbury's face became crimson and she wrung her hands. "Oh, Ma'am, no, that is hardly necessary. As long as Master Nikolas is alright, no apology is necessary," she said. She turned quickly and then hurried down the corridor.
Unfortunately, Alexis didn't really believe a word that she had just said. Well, except for the PCPD being inept. That was definitely true!
XXXXXXXX
Port Charles Police Department Detective Curtis Vanburen slammed his hand on his desk after detective roll call. "You have got to be kidding me! This is crap!" he ranted.
His partner, Detective Frank Scanlon, shook his head. Another day, another tantrum, he thought. "What is the problem now?" he asked.
"Apparently you didn't notice we're supposed to pick up the Katherine Bell assault case. Now seriously, other than providing an opportunity for you to see your girlfriend, exactly why couldn't this case have been picked up by last night's on call Detective?" he asked.
Frank shrugged his shoulders. If he had been allowed to select a partner, he would have chosen anyone but Curtis Vanburen. Unfortunately, when Detective Taggert had been suspended for inhumane treatment of a detainee, after he turned an interrogation room into a sauna in March it had started a chain of disruption. First, Commissioner Scorpio had assigned the new Detective transferring in from Boston PD to partner with Garcia, Taggert's former partner. Then, when Taggert's suspension ended, he was paired with Andy Capelli. That had left Frank stuck with Capelli's old partner.
"Apparently, the reporting physician wasn't sure that an assault actually took place and felt the potential victim wouldn't be up to giving a statement until the morning so dispatch put it at the bottom of the queue. I would imagine things were kind of crazy last night anyway after that congressman got shot at the Croydon Hotel," Frank said.
"And once again some dispatch officer attempts to rub together their only two brain cells and still fails to make the right call. I mean seriously, if you aren't able to get a patrol spot out of the academy maybe you should grasp that not everyone is cut out to be a cop and do everyone a favor and peace out!" Curtis continued his tantrum.
Frank just shook his head again. He had been briefly paired with wonderboy, Mark Lavery, while his partner Ross Janelle was on medical leave. At the time he had been a bit wary to be paired with the grandson of a retired PCPD Captain and the son of a current PCPD lieutenant. Then, he had been grateful that Ross's knee replacement had gone great and he had returned to full duty in about three months. Now, he would pretty much give anything to go back to being paired with Mark Lavery.
"Can I see both of you in my office?" Lieutenant Joe Kelly asked as he walked by them.
Frank was quite certain their lieutenant had heard most of, if not all of, their conversation. Somehow Curtis didn't even have the common sense to appear a bit ashamed about that.
Once they had filed into his office, Joe Kelly closed the door and then stepped around his desk so he was facing them. "I understand you have questions about today's assignment?" he asked.
Curtis laughed. "It's ok, Lieu, I know you're new but FYI dispatch has a tendency to screw the pooch on the regular," he said.
Frank watched his Lieutenant's face carefully. Technically Curtis was correct at least in one sense, but only in one sense. Although Joe Kelly had only been a PCPD Lieutenant since June, he had begun his career in the PCPD and been a commended detective when he transferred into the state police system. There he had ascended to the rank of Major.
"Detective Vanburen, if you have a complaint about how dispatch triaged the case, I want to hear that so it can be effectively addressed. What I don't think is particularly helpful is when we just lob derogatory comments around about our colleagues. With that said, can you explain what you disagree with regarding dispatch's actions" Lieutenant Kelly asked.
"Ok, if we presume that dispatch is operating with an IQ above sixty and that is generous for them I know then shouldn't they realize that when a physician opts to cover their butt by reporting a fall as a crime we can just screen that out and move on. Again, you're new so you can try to explain that to them but I can tell you it won't help."
Frank supposed that Curtis might have a point; about a year earlier New York state had passed a law essentially making it a criminal matter for physicians who failed to report any possible criminal activity. Although there had been prior laws requiring reporting of child and elder abuse, and crimes with weapons like guns and knives the new law was needlessly broad and, in the six months it had been in effect, had resulted in a lot of needless reports. In Frank's opinion, sometimes accidents truly did happen and they didn't all need to be criminal matters until proven otherwise. But with the way the law was currently worded he could understand why emergency medicine physicians and trauma surgeons were reporting out of fear.
"I am not going to say that I was in favor of Senate Bill 242 and I actually testified to that at the senate hearing. Regardless, once the bill passed and was signed by Governor Drake, it became a law. Physicians are now legally obligated to report much more and we need to follow through with the investigation. As law enforcement we don't get to choose which laws we enforce. Or who we enforce laws against. So, I disagree that dispatch should have even considered doing anything other than assigning the investigation to a detective team. If I was going to fault anything, I would argue that this should have been assigned to someone overnight to do the initial crime scene securing and processing. It doesn't appear that happened so I made sure the forensic unit went out there before roll call and I will definitely discuss the importance of timely scene securing and processing with all of our officers who work dispatch shifts," Lieutenant Kelly said.
Curtis rolled his eyes. "Anyway, who says that Katherine Bell will be up to giving a statement today anyway? Why can't we just assign this to whoever is the on call detective tonight?" he asked.
"That is why I would suggest that you and Detective Scanlon start at the potential crime scene," Lieutenant Kelly said.
That sounded reasonable to Frank. "That sounds like a plan and then I can call over to GH and check on Ms. Bell's condition," he offered.
Unfortunately, Curtis was not deterred. "Again, I have to ask, what crime scene? Doesn't there need to be a crime to have a crime scene?"
"Dispatch managed to pull the EMS report, Katherine Bell was found on the Locke Street Pier. The original 911 call was placed by Nikolas Cassadine. You could be right that she merely fell as a result of self-induced intoxication. I understand it wouldn't be the first time this happened. But, until we have something to support that, I think we have to investigate. So, listen to your partner, go out to the Locke Street Pier, arrange to get statements from Nikolas Cassadine and Dr. Alan Quartermaine and see where that all takes you," Lieutenant Kelly said.
"Got it Lieutenant," Frank said before he opened the door and practically dragged his partner out it.
XXXXXXXX
Alexis Davis's heart dropped when she saw the crime scene techs on the Locke Street Pier as the launch pulled into Lock 10 and navigated to Pier 10. Stefan would never forgive her if something had happened to Nikolas. She would never forgive herself!
Alexis gulped and took a shaky deep breath as she attempted to disembark the boat. Her legs felt like jelly and it was all she could do to step onto the slip. She gasped and struggled as the slip seemed to give way beneath her feet.
"Is everything alright Ms. Davis?" Cyrus asked as he stepped in to steady her.
Alexis was quite certain nothing was alright but she wasn't ready to admit that to the launch captain. "I'm fine, I just lost my footing for a minute. Are we even able to dock here it looks like they've cordoned off the area?" she asked.
"I can inquire," Cyrus offered.
Alexis caught her breath as Cyrus walked swiftly toward the inlet Locke Street Pier where several people in PCPD or Crime Scene windbreakers were milling about. What if he confirmed her worst fears? What if Nikolas was dead?
"They say they're just about done, Ms. Davis so we can dock but they are going to leave the steps up to Locke Street barricaded but you can take the elevator. I guess someone fell or was pushed here last night and they may need to do scene reconstruction," Cyrus said.
Alexis wasn't sure how to interpret the information she had been given. At least no one had been shot perhaps that was encouraging, perhaps….
XXXXXXXX
Nikolas Cassadine kneaded at the back of his neck. The chairs in the waiting area outside the PCGH Surgical ICU were not meant for sleeping. Yet, he had felt he had no recourse than to do just that. The only information he had been able to receive about Katherine was that she had been admitted to the Surgical ICU. Any other information would only be given to her nearest of kin. He had contemplated calling his uncle but for some reason he had been unable to bring himself to place that call. So, he had done the only thing possible and waited outside the Surgical ICU.
XXXXXXXX
Alexis Davis attempted to steel her emotions as she pulled up the PCGH patient list and started to scan for Nikolas's name. She didn't find it, but another name leapt out at her. Apparently, Katherine Bell had been admitted to the Surgical ICU with a head injury. Had she been the person who had fallen on the Locke Street Pier?