It had been too much, so he fled the hospital for the morgue. His patients were already dead, so he couldn't kill them there. He had his control back.
Then Shane Casey took it all away from him. Just so he could clear the name of his brother-who turned out to be exactly as guilty as the jury had found him.
It was all for nothing.
Sometimes, Hawkes thought that was the worst part of it all. Casey's loyalty to his brother was touching but misplaced.
And all it cost was a little piece of Sheldon Hawkes's soul.
He hadn't gone running since that night. It wasn't that he was afraid to, exactly, he just didn't want to risk reliving it.
That was a sort of fear, wasn't it?
Maybe he did have things to discuss with the shrink.
However, that could wait until after this case was put down. Peyton had said when he left for the day that she had to check a few things against Washburne's medical records at RHCF before she would release the autopsy report. She was also being cagey about her findings, not even filing a prelim. At the time, she had said it was because, with Gerrard breathing down her neck, she didn't want to jump to any conclusions, and that excuse certainly had the ring of believability about it.
But Hawkes had been an ME too long not to know the signs. Peyton had found something that didn't make sense, and she didn't want to tell anyone about it until she had an answer or had proven to herself that an answer was not to be found.
He hoped it was the former.
Hawkes performed all his morning ablutions and rituals, then hopped the R train uptown to work.
Stella was waiting in the elevator bank when he arrived. "Morning, Stella."
"Hey, Sheldon. How's your prison riot going?"
"One's a dunker-guy confessed, evidence matched up. Unfortunately, the other one's Washburne. We've got a suspect, but I'm still waiting for Peyton's report."
She smiled. "I envy you. I've got a suspect, too, and Sid's done his report, but it's all way too circumstantial."
Unable to miss the fact that Stella wasn't making eye contact, Hawkes stared straight at her and said, "You okay?"
Finally, she met his gaze.
Hawkes recognized the haunted look in her eyes. It was the same one he saw in the mirror after waking up from that damn dream.
"Bad dreams?" he asked.
"How'd you guess?" She didn't actually sound that surprised.
"Experience. Wanna get a drink after the shift's over and compare night terrors?"
She smiled. "You're on, Doc."
With a telltale ding, the elevator arrived. They both got on, went to their floor, and disembarked.
As soon as they got off, Stella's Treo rang. She looked down at the display, said, "Angell," then put the phone to her ear. "What's up, Jen? Really? Okay. I've got a meeting, but I'll send Lindsay up to meet you."
"What is it?" Hawkes asked.
She gave him a grin. "The proverbial break in the case. Our vic was missing a necklace, and Angell said it just turned up. I gotta go find Lindsay. I'll see you later, Sheldon."
Stella peeled off and went in search of Lindsay. Hawkes continued toward the break room to get some coffee, only to find Peyton Driscoll waiting for him. She was holding what looked very much like an autopsy report in her hand.
"I'm afraid I have some disturbing news," she said by way of greeting.
"I had a feeling."
She frowned. "Are you becoming a psychic, Sheldon?"
"No, but when you don't file a prelim, I know something's up," Hawkes said. "Give it to me straight, Doc, I can take it."
"I have a cause of death for Malik Washburne, nй Gregory Washburne, and it is most assuredly not blunt force trauma to the head. Rather, it was asphyxiation due to the closing of the throat as a result of an allergic reaction."
Eyes wide, Hawkes took the report from Peyton and started flipping through it. "Allergic to what?"
"That," she said with a sigh, "is the question. I haven't the foggiest."
He looked at her, then led the way out of the break room toward Mac's office. "C'mon, we'd better talk to Mac. And, if we're really unlucky, to Gerrard, too."
14
TAYVON OLIVERA WAS REALLY looking forward to putting the beat-down on Jorge Melendez.
Truth be told, he wanted a piece of Jack Mulroney, too. But Mulroney had half the COs in RHCF all over him, and he'd probably be arrested soon for knifing Vance Barker. The bastard would get to see the outside just long enough to go through the cop house again. Then maybe he'd get sent to some max-security place like Sing Sing.
They were hard-core there. Mulroney would get his, Tayvon was sure of that. He wouldn't last three seconds.
Tayvon just wished he could be the one to bring him down.
Meantime, he'd get his shot at that bastard Melendez.
In some ways, Tayvon was in RHCF because of Malik Washburne. But he figured he was still alive because of him, also. Back in the day, Tayvon was doping and getting into fights. He tried to box but got his ass thrown onto the street after the first time he peed in a cup.
Things got so bad, Tayvon ran out of money for his coke fix, so he started stealing. When he got caught, the judge ordered him to go to the Kinson Rehab Center.
That was where Tayvon met Malik Washburne. At first, Tayvon didn't want anything to do with a cop, even if he wasn't a cop anymore. But Malik kept at him, helping him through the rehab, sitting up with him while he went through the DTs.
Tayvon didn't really go for religion-it wasn't his thing-but after spending so much time with Malik, he did respect the Nation of Islam. In particular, he respected what they had done for the Original Man. He didn't really believe in it, but folks like Malik and Hakim el-Jabbar, he had mad respect for them and people like them who preached the word. Even if the words didn't really mean anything to Tayvon, they meant something to other people.
Black folks who listened to people like Hakim and Malik, they felt better about who they were. They weren't ashamed of the color of their skin. Tayvon was down with that.
Like Malik before him, Hakim respected Tayvon's lack of faith, because Tayvon didn't do bullshit. He didn't try to pretend to be faithful because it might do him some good. Nah, Tayvon just did his business, and he got caught. Yeah, he was off the coke, but he was still a big dude who was good at beat-downs. So he started working for folks he used to buy his dope from-as well as taking legit bouncer and bodyguard jobs. One time, he beat up somebody that actually filed a police report, and for the second time, Tayvon got nailed by the cops.
No rehab-he had to do his time, but that was cool. He'd be out in the street once he did his bit, and then it'd be back to business.
Until then, he was more than happy to put a beat-down on some fool who had earned it.
And Melendez had. That little punk-ass fool didn't believe in Allah or Mohammed or none of that other stuff any more than Tayvon did, but Melendez tried to make like he did. Even went to Malik's Koran class.
That was why Tayvon wasn't surprised when word came down from Hakim: Melendez killed Malik. Well, okay, he was a little surprised that a punk like Melendez had had the balls to do the deed. But after that throw-down they had in Malik's class, Tayvon figured Melendez had enough of a mad-on to take Malik out. Besides, he did it while everyone was watching Mulroney ice Vance.
And that was weak. Vance didn't do nothing wrong. Okay, so he slid hard, so the hell what? Tayvon saw somebody pull that on Derek Jeter just last week, and Jeter didn't go stabbing the guy with a razor.
Tayvon had no idea how Hakim knew that Melendez was the one who did in Malik, but Hakim was always knowing things he wasn't supposed to. His word was good enough for Tayvon.
The deed would be done in the shower that morning. He wouldn't have long, but the shower was the best time, especially since it could wash away blood. Besides, Tayvon had been doing push-ups on his knuckles for twenty years. As long as he punched with the first two knuckles, nobody would even know he'd punched anyone.