“In my opinion, no,” Julie said. “William Colchester had one goal and one goal only: convict Brandon Stahl for the murder of his son. He bribed Sherri to get her testimony, and then offered another bribe to the judge so he’d deny the request to exhume his son’s body. I’m figuring Colchester’s the one who planted the morphine in Brandon’s apartment. That’s what I believe.”
Spence said, “And you think William Colchester killed Sherri and blamed it on a Brandon Stahl supporter because she was going to confess to the bribe?”
“Yes.”
“So this cetuximab stuff is really what killed his son, Donald, by causing that weird heart thing?” Capshaw looked proud of himself for following, and even better, contributing to the conversation.
Julie nodded. “Yes, what we thought was a condition called takotsubo cardiomyopathy was all along Kounis syndrome, an allergic cardiac event triggered by a massive overdose of cetuximab in a person who was alpha-gal allergic.”
“Alpha-gal allergic because of a mysterious tick bite.”
“Or not a tick bite,” Julie clarified. “Like I said, I don’t know how the victims got the allergy. But I do know anyone who had the sensitivity and was later infused with a high dose of cetuximab would suffer a massive and fatal coronary that would look exactly like takotsubo to any pathologist. Wouldn’t matter if the person’s heart was sick or healthy, it was going to develop a ballooned left ventricle before it stopped beating.”
Capshaw said, “And so your big plan is to get this guy to confess.”
“That’s right.”
“Why would he?” Spence sounded dubious.
“This individual tried to have me killed, Detectives. We know that’s true, or you would have me in handcuffs right now. I’ll show him the evidence from Albert Cunningham’s tissue sample. Then I’ll tell him I’ll bury it, in exchange for him guaranteeing my safety and the safety of my son. Something happens to either of us and my lawyer brings the evidence to you. I think he’ll believe me. I’m counting on it.”
Capshaw said, “Why is your suspect even doing this? What’s the motive?”
“Think about the victims. They were all very ill, severely incapacitated, or at the end of their lives,” Julie said. “I think the killer was taking a patient’s right to choose death and removing the patient from the equation.”
“Angel of Mercy kind of thing, is that it?”
“Yes, he’s picking the victims for that reason. That’s my belief.”
Actually, it was one possible theory-enough to convince the detectives to help, Julie hoped-but she had another theory, one she kept to herself. Lucy had coached her to think of this conversation like a chess match: “Always stay three moves ahead,” she’d said. So far, Julie had played it well.
“Since you and he share some of the same beliefs on death with dignity, he might just believe your offer to keep tight-lipped about it,” Capshaw said, thinking aloud.
“This all sounds very dramatic,” Spence said, “but in real life people can get really hurt.”
“And in real life people are being murdered at my hospital. I need to do something to stop it.”
“You’re sure of this guy?” Capshaw did not look convinced.
“Absolutely,” Julie said.
Spence and Capshaw exchanged glances, and some sort of understanding passed between them. It made Julie think of Jordan and the night they became partners at his apartment.
“If we get a green light-not saying we will, but if we do-you’d have to wear a wire,” Spence said.
Julie shook her head. “No. No. I can’t do that. I know him. He’ll suspect me going in. I’ll be searched, and then we won’t get anything.”
“We’ll be there. We’ll have your back.” Spence acted so sure of himself.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Then this conversation is over. You go home and we’ll talk about charges when we come to arrest you,” Spence said.
Julie hated being in this position, but she had put herself there. She knew going in they might demand she wear a wire, but what choice did she have? Jordan depended on her, Brandon too. And she faced jail or another attempt on her life if she did nothing. The only way to set things right, and bring the hammer down on those responsible, including William Colchester, was to get the police involved.
“Look, maybe you could try something else. Bug the office or something. There’s this technology called TrueSpy, my son found it on my phone. I think Lincoln Cole put it there. It secretly records phone conversations. Your team could use that, couldn’t they?”
The detectives’ expressionless gaze said no.
“I’ve done this rodeo plenty of times now,” Capshaw said. “Our tech guys have a way of doing things. We can’t just throw in something new, something we haven’t heard of or used before, and think it’s going to work. We have a process, and that’s the process we have to use. Now, I hear you, Julie. I get your concern, I really do, but these devices are so small nobody is going to notice them. I promise. You’ll be fine.”
Julie agonized. “May I make a phone call? I’d like to talk it over with my friend.”
“Sure. Call away.”
“In private,” Julie said.
Capshaw shut off the recorder and he and Spence left the room without protest.
Julie phoned Lucy on her new cell phone. The two talked at length until a decision was made. Julie invited Spence and Capshaw back into the room.
“If you can make it happen,” Julie said, “you’ve got yourselves a deal. But on one condition.”
Capshaw sighed. “We’re listening.”
“My friend Lucy is allowed to be with you as an observer.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to be scared out of my mind and, no offense, you two aren’t exactly a comforting presence.”
Again with the glances, and again the detectives reached a nonverbal agreement.
“Fine,” Spence said. “She’ll be in the equation. But we need the name of the guy we’re taking down.”
Julie said, “His name is Dr. Gerald Coffey.”
CHAPTER 51
Thin clouds stretched across a slate gray sky and snow was in the forecast for this first day of December. Lucy had dressed for the weather in her warmest sweater, though the back of the surveillance van was plenty warm thanks to all the body heat. The full-size white cargo van had a decal on the outside panels advertising a company called JP Pest, but inside the van was crammed with high-tech surveillance equipment unlike anything Lucy had ever seen. There were wireless transmitters, sound recorders, sound amplifiers, a mixing board, cameras, various wires, even a working periscope and controller. It was all highly sophisticated, and when Lucy saw it she understood why they could not use new technology that had not been properly vetted and field-tested.
Detective Spence was in the back of the van, along with Lucy and two technicians from the Boston PD who knew how to operate the equipment. To increase usable space, the van’s seats had been removed and replaced with benches bolted to the floor. Detective Capshaw was seated up front, reading a copy of the Boston Herald and looking a lot like a guy from JP Pest enjoying his lunch break. Scattered around the hospital campus were a number of other undercover police officers, but Lucy did not know where they were positioned or how they had been disguised.
Detective Spence had made it clear that Lucy’s job was to keep Julie calm. Other than that, he expected her to stay out of the way. His prickly demeanor did not ruffle Lucy in the least. She respected it, in fact. This was his domain, his job, his operation to run, and his neck on the line if things went south. And things were going to head south. Lucy was sure of it.
Getting Julie inside White was not a problem, because she had Lucy’s badge. “The badge switch worked before, it can work again,” Julie had said during a late-night planning meeting with the lead detectives. All the warrants, including those for the wiretap, were in place, and steps had been taken to ensure Dr. Coffey would be at his desk. In fact, he was scheduled to meet with Lucy-only it would be Julie who walked through his office door.