“Mark, we have to tell someone.”
Mark thought as he moved to lock the operating room door.
“Maybe you should just leave. I don’t know what the hell I am going to do or even what I should do, but there’s no reason for you to get involved in whatever I come up with.”
“And then what? Leave and pretend that nothing happened? Pretend that the baby died like it should have and that my chief of medicine isn’t hiding a living body somewhere in Chicago? What the hell, Mark? I can’t leave like this.”
“I need time to think.”
“We don’t have time, Mark.”
“Call Henry. Tell him to get up here and to say nothing to anyone.”
“Okay, but any second now the cleaning crew is going to try to do their job in this room, and finding the door locked and two doctors in the room will raise some eyebrows.”
“I need time to think,” Mark said as he plowed his hands through his thinning, grey hair. “I need time to come up with something.”
Both doctors heard the mumblings of men approaching the locked door. Their attempts to open the door prompted their knock and call.
“Anyone in there?” one of the men said. “Cleaning crew. Anyone in there?”
“We’re not finished,” Mark replied. “Come back in fifteen.”
“Who is that?” the voice behind the locked door demanded.
“Doctor Mark Rinaldo, Chief of Medicine. Now either go away or start looking for another place to work where you can piss more people off. Understood?”
There was no reply, only the faint sounds of feet moving away from the door.
“Well, I’m sure that won’t make anyone suspicious,” Stanley said.
“They’re gone, and that’s all I wanted. Now please call Henry. Remember, tell him to say nothing.”
Henry Zudak announced his arrival a few minutes after being called by Stanley by a loud knock on the locked door.
“Mark? Stanley? It’s Henry.”
Mark nodded towards Stanley who then unlocked and opened the door.
“Anyone follow you?” Stanley asked.
“Follow me? What the hell are you talking about? No, no one followed me.”
Mark locked eyes with Henry, revealing his confusion, worry, and fear.
“What’s going on in here?” Henry asked.
Mark removed his gaze and looked down at the baby lying on the gurney. The white sheet, bloodied in patches, was wadded up at the feet of a baby that stared at Henry with eyes lifeless and cold. “What is that baby doing here?”
“Henry, we have a situation.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Doctor William Straus was waiting for something like this to happen for him. Something that would get his name listed at the top of the medical journals around the world. He knew that all he needed was the right chance to show the world just how damn good of a psychiatrist that he was.
When his friend from college, Doctor Peter Adams called him yesterday, William knew that his chance had arrived.
“Will, I really need to make sure that you understand the delicate nature of this situation and can assure us that absolute privacy and confidentiality will and can be maintained,” Peter Adams said.
Doctor Peter Adams was an employee of Saint Stevens Memorial Hospital, where he offered counseling services to patients and their families, as well as to Saint Stevens employees. Mark Rinaldo had called Peter into a private meeting, during which he, Henry and Stanley explained the events and circumstances of the O’Connell’s twins.
“You’re telling me that the baby has no heart and no lungs, yet is still moving around? Peter asked.
“All of us, Henry, Mark and I, examined that baby over so many times and ways that there is no way we missed a heart,” Stanley said. “No way. There is just no heart inside that baby.”
“I’m not questioning any of you, but I am confused about my role in this,” Peter asked.
“I have a plan and need your help making it work.”
“Okay, Mark. Let’s hear it.”
Mark Rinaldo explained the events of the day. He told him that he marked up the chest of a stillborn baby that was marked to be “destroyed” to look like what the O’Connells would expect that their baby would have looked like. He told Peter that he had the heartless baby hidden in his office. He told him that he needed his assistance in getting the baby out of the hospital as quickly as possible and implored Peter to keep everything completely confidential.
“I know you have a friend who runs a psychiatric hospital out on Long Island,” Mark said to Peter.
“Are you suggesting that I smuggle the baby across State lines, involve my good friend in this highly illegal scheme of yours and get nothing in return?”
“Are you suggesting that I bribe you?”
“Not a bribe,” Peter said. “Just some assurances that if and when this thing explodes that my name is never mentioned.”
“Agreed. Anything else?” Mark asked.
“I have been thinking about a long vacation. A very long vacation.”
William Straus had everything prepared. He was thankful for his authoritative manner of running Hilburn when he instructed the staff that “Ward C will have a new patient, and no one is allowed to enter Ward C without approval.”
Ward C had been closed for the last three years. When it was in use, it housed some of the most dangerous patients assigned to Hilburn. The staff at the time called the ward “the mind-bending rooms.”
Straus was well known as a strict disciplinarian, who demanded that anyone under his supervision adhere to the “highest work ethic and extreme confidentiality.” Any employee, whether a tenured doctor or a recently hired cafeteria worker, was terminated if Straus caught wind of “excessive work breaks or discussing hospital matters outside of work.”