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34

Tuesday, June 6, 2006 – 8:01 p.m.

Aspen Memorial Hospital – Room 511

 

            Chandini was hanging up her lab coat preparing to leave for the night when she heard a noise coming from the supply room.  Intrigued as to its’ source, she deftly let go of her coat as it dropped onto the hook and then stealthily walked across the lab to the door that led to the supply room from the lab side.  Another door led from the supply room directly into the hallway.  Reaching the door, she cautiously put her ear to it and heard movement coming from within.  Thinking that maybe someone was rummaging through the supplies without authorization, she carefully put her hand to the doorknob.  Turning it very slowly, she cracked open the door just enough to allow a beam of light to burst forth from the room.  Pushing the door open an inch at a time, Chandini heard further noises coming from within the room and behind the door she was opening.  Once she had it opened far enough to stick her head through, she carefully moved until her left eye was just beginning to peak around the edge of the door.  At first, she didn’t see anything but an empty room.  Then, without warning, a hand flew out from behind the farthest corner of the door and grabbed Chandini by the arm jerking her into the room. 

            Before Chandini could get a look at her assailant, the lights went out and she found herself in total darkness.  A hand quickly covered her mouth and a gag was inserted before Chandini could even scream for help.  Her hands were pulled behind her back and tied tightly.  Her feet were also bound and the gag was secured behind her head.  She was shoved into the corner behind the door and dropped onto the floor.  Still alert, but immobile, Chandini heard someone rummaging through the desk drawers next to her.  A small flashlight was visible bobbing up, down and around as the intruder continued looking for something.  The click of a lock inside the desk and the quiet sound of discovery emanating from the intruder echoed inside Chandini’s ears.  She listened as the desk was shut and then watched as the beam of the flashlight moved eerily through the air seemingly on its own.  In her minds eye, she could picture the intruder walking between the rows of supplies that lined the room and that led to the outer door and into the hallway.  Just before the door opened and the intruder left, the intercom crackled to life.

              Dr. Slaterbaugh to room 511 stat!  Ken Slaterbaugh, room 511 stat! 

            The door opened and a brief flood of light filled the room where Chandini lay.  She couldn’t see the door or the intruder, but she could make out the rows of shelves in the brief instant of illumination just before everything went dark again.  Then all was silent.

           

                                                                                               ***

 

            Shutting the door carefully behind him, Slick looked both directions down the hallway.  Then, with a suave and confident gait, he headed for the elevators.  He needed to talk to Ken and he knew where to find him thanks to the intercom announcement.  Before hitting the elevator button, however, Slick decided to stop and use the bathroom.  He figured Ken would be in the room upstairs for a few minutes, so he had time to relieve himself.  Besides, he didn’t want to look like he was trying to run Ken down.  He wanted to make it look like he just happened to bump into him. 

            Entering the men’s room, Slick’s shoes echoed off the tiled walls.  This time of night, very few people were around.  The restroom was empty.  Walking up to the urinal, Slick began to think.  Pondering the days’ activities, he had to smile to himself.  Everything had worked out well so far.  Although he’d had some unexpected intrusions, he’d been able to handle them with speed and efficiency.  Ailsa and Spike were locked in the year 1792 and Chandini was tied up down the hall.  The only reason he’d tied her up was that he didn’t want her to see him to identify him later when questions arose.  As it stood now, she didn’t know who her assailant had been.  Eventually, someone would find her.  Slick zipped up his pants and flushed the urinal.  Walking to the sink to wash his hands, he thought about the next few days of activity.  He’d decided he was going to take a few days off and present his new “drug” to the government officials with whom he’d been working all along.  Then, he’d be paid, collect what he wanted and travel away to another time and place.  Drying his hands, he smiled again thinking about his perfect future.  A few more days and all his work would finally pay off.

            Leaving the restroom, Slick walked down the hall and pushed the up button on the elevator.  The doors opened almost immediately and he climbed aboard.  Riding the three floors to Neurology, Slick exited and almost walked into Ken.

             “Slick.  What are you doing here?  Chandini said you’d left.”

            “I had exited the premises, but I came back for some books I’d left behind.  Chandini told me about the outcome of those tests she ran for you on the syringes and IV bags.  I thought it only prudent that I come and talk to you immediately.” 

     Slick knew Chandini had said nothing to him.  It was only the page over the intercom that had alerted him to Ken’s whereabouts and his own experimentation that had affected the three patients to the extent that it had.  Having access to the network, and having hacked into the patient’s records, Slick had been keeping track of the results of the introduction of his cocktail into the three patients in neurology.  He knew exactly what was happening, but by suggesting that Chandini had told him, it removed any possible motive from him.  Besides, when he mentioned to Ken that Spike was guilty and the subsequent disappearance of Spike, it would seal his story as factual and bulletproof. 

            Ken asked, “Oh, and why is that?”

Slick responded to Ken’s question in a smooth and polite manner. 

            “Well,” Slick paused in deep thought, his body language graceful and relaxed, and “I believe I know who may be behind this horribly inhumane treatment of our dear patients.  What kind of sick mind could even think of such a thing?” 

            “That’s what I’d like to know.  So you think you know who it is?”  Ken asked raising his eyebrows in surprise. 

            “I do.”  Slick waited for Ken to take the bait.

            “And who might that be?”

            Slick allowed a few seconds of silence to build the anticipation level surrounding them.  Then he said in a controlled, confident voice, “Spike.”

            “Spike!  What do you mean Spike?”

            “That’s what I said, Spike.”

            “But why, what purpose would it serve?”

            “Does anyone ever know?  Do we really understand why Ted Bundy killed those women?  Do we know what went through the mind of Jeffrey Dahmer as he cannibalized his victims?  Do we understand the mentality behind Jack the Ripper?  Ken, no one ever knows exactly why.”

            “But, he seems like such a decent guy, I mean, other than his strange sense of fashion and his weird Gothic interest.”

            “Exactly Ken.  He appears decent on the outside.  However, the mind, that’s where it all takes place.  Think about the mind.  As a neurologist, you should know that the mind is the least understood of all human physiology.”

            “Well, of course I do.  But I’m no psychiatrist or psychologist.  I don’t read the mind or understand everything about it.  The mind is really quite different from the actual physical substance known as the brain.  They are two very different things.”

            “I understand that completely.”  Slick gave a kind nod to a passing nurse.  “Good evening ma’am,” he said to her.

            “Hello,” the nurse replied, caught off balance by the kindness bestowed upon her.  She continued down the hall and Slick picked up his conversation where he’d left off.

            “As I said, Spike appears to be a kind guy.  But inside his skull no one knows what he’s thinking.  Have you ever noticed anything unusual about him, anything that didn’t quite sit right with you?”

            Ken thought for a few minutes.  “Well, on occasion.  Nothing major, just weird.”

            “But there was something there, wasn’t there?”

            Ken had to agree that sometimes he didn’t understand Spike or had even at times feared him a little because of his strange view on life and the way he acted. 

            “So, where is he now?  Isn’t he supposed to be here, working?”

            “He is, but I don’t know where he is.  I sent him to the morgue to check on Benita’s body.  I was looking for the used cannula I’d had inserted into her arm because I wanted to test it.  When I went down to look for him, I found Benita’s face mutilated and no sign of Spike.”

            Slick gave a sigh of disgust and shook his head.  “He mutilated Benita’s face?  Was she the girl I heard died this morning?”

            “Yes.  That’s the one.  She just started having fits and seizures, all the monitors went wild, and then her heart stopped.  There was nothing I or anyone else could do.  She was dead.”

            “How sad,” Slick responded.  “So why would Spike mutilate her face?”

            “I don’t know.  That’s what I can’t figure out.”

            “Have you told security or called the police?”

            “Not yet.  I was hoping Spike would show up.  I was going to have him paged.  I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt before I blamed him.”

            “But who else could it be?”

            “That’s just it, I don’t know.”

            “Ken.”

            “Yes?”

            “Have you ever been around Spike when he was reading or had a chance to glance in his backpack?”

            “Well, no.  I try not to go around looking at other people’s personal things.  Why?”

            “Let me show you something.  Obviously, he’s not coming back, so I want to give you a glimpse into the mind of Spike, the decent guy.”  Slick emphasized decent as if to make a point to Ken that he didn’t know much about how to read people.

            Walking to the staff area behind the admittance desk, Slick, ever the gentleman, opened the door and held it for Ken.  Ken walked through passing Gretchen on the way in.  Slick continued to hold the door open as the mobile raisin passed.  Gretchen gave an hmmph as she passed Slick.  She never showed any signs of appreciation or emotion.  Slick walked into the lounge as the door shut behind him. 

            “Here’s Spike’s locker.  Let’s take a look.”

            “I don’t think that’s a good idea.  It is personal property.”

            “Like I said, he hasn’t showed up yet, what makes you think he will now?”

            Ken figured he had a point; still, he didn’t like the idea of snooping through Spike’s possessions.

            Opening Spike’s locker that was not locked, Slick removed the padlock that hung loosely from the door.  Reaching inside, he removed Spike’s backpack and set it on the table.  Unzipping the top, Slick tipped the backpack upside-down and spilled the contents across the table.  Inside was an array of unusual and common items.  Spike’s lunch in a paper bag, two medical books, pens and pencils, an old candy bar wrapper, a portable CD player with headphones and four CD’s, all Gothic based, a cell phone, an extra shirt, a sandwich baggie filled with various small snacks, a book and two magazines.  The book and magazine were what Slick was looking for.

            “Okay Ken, look at this.”  Picking up the book, Ken read the title.  Extraordinary Encounters: Encyclopedia of Extraterrestrials and Otherworldly Beings by Jerome Clark. 

            “Okay.  So what.  Spike was interested in alien encounters.  A lot of people are but that doesn’t make them murderers or psychos.”

            “True.  But given his lifestyle, his Gothic interests, his fascination with aliens, doesn’t that all kind of add up?  Yet, that’s not all my friend.  Take a look at these.”  Slick picked up the magazines and handed them to Ken.  Looking at the titles, Ken’s stomach tightened.  Maybe Slick was right Ken thought.  The first magazine was entitled Wild World – Aliens, Nature and You.  Ken had heard of this magazine before.  It contained a lot of information on drugs, extraterrestrials and how the two interacted with modern society.  The second one was called Mushrooms for the Mind.  This one piqued Ken’s interest.  Setting down Wild World Ken began to thumb through the second magazine.  Slick stood quietly by allowing Ken to absorb the enormity of what Spike had done, or of what he wanted Ken to believe Spike had done. 

            Flipping through pages, Ken stumbled across an article entitled Mushies, Happies, Sillies and Shrooms – Psilocybin Mushrooms in Today’s Society.  Ken began to scan the article.  Slick walked over to the candy machine and purchased a Snickers.  Ken’s eyes caught the word tryptamines embedded in several paragraphs.  Beginning to read with more interest, Ken realized he was reading exactly the same things that he’d researched earlier that afternoon.  The description of the affects of tryptamines on the brain, the hallucinogenic properties, the extreme nightmares and increase in temperature and heart rate, all of these rang out loudly in his mind. 

            “So, what do you think?”

            Slick’s sudden interruption startled Ken.

            “What?”

            “I said ‘What do you think?’”

            “I don’t know what to think.  Has Spike really been behind this all along?”

            “I’d say so.  You have plenty of evidence to suggest he’s the one.  If I were you, I’d call the authorities before Spike gets too far away.  Otherwise, you may never find him.”  Slick chuckled to himself thinking of what he’d just said.  Too bad Ken.  You never will find him and I go free.  Did this work out well or what?

            “Maybe you’re right.  But,” Ken paused, trying to think of how to word his thoughts, “something doesn’t seem right.  It all seems to fit too perfectly.  I’ve know Spike for some time now, and he’s never done or said anything to suggest this mentality.”

            “Remember Gary Ridgway?”

            “Who”

            “Gary Ridgway.  The Green River Killer.  He confessed back in 2003.  When you saw pictures of him on the news or listened to him talk, did he seem like the type to have killed over 50 different women, without remorse, in sick fashion, possessing a demented mind?”

            “Well, no.  Not really.”

            “Then what makes Spike any different.  Most killers seem to be like everyone else.  I mean, for all you know, I could be a murderer.”

            Ken laughed.  “Right!  Mr. Suave, Always in Control and Perfectly Mannered Slick?  That’s a laugh.”

            Ken and Slick both chuckled.  Ken, because he thought it was ludicrous, Slick, because he knew it was true.

            Slick continued.  “Well, you do what you think is in the best interests of all here at the hospital.  I’ve got some prior engagements that I need to attend to.  I did, however, want you to be aware of my suspicions.  I’d feel so guilty if down the road something else happened and I hadn’t informed you of my suspicions about Spike.”

            “Thank you Slick.  I do appreciate your input.  It does all seem to point to Spike though.”  Ken paused, still looking at Wild World.  Looking Slick in the eyes, he said, “I will get to the bottom of this, believe me.”

            “Good luck,” Slick said in a positive and supportive tone.  “I hope you find the guilty party shortly.  I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

            “Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  Ken reached out and shook Slick’s hand.  As usual, Slick was a total gentleman.  Opening the door, Slick and Ken stepped out into the admitting area.  Darcy was sitting at the desk doing some paperwork. 

      Looking up she said, “Hi Slick.  What are you doing here?”

     “I had to pick up a couple of things I’d forgotten and chat with the fine Dr.Slaterbaugh here. 

     “Oh.  So now you’re leaving?”

     “Yes ma’am.”

     “Well, have a good evening.”

     “And you as well.”  Bowing slightly, Slick smiled at Darcy as he walked toward the elevators.  Standing in front of the elevator doors, Slick nodded and smiled kindly at a passing visitor.  She smiled back, even looking back a couple of times at Slick after passing.  Slick smiled too, pleased with himself and with the way things were turning out in his favor.  

            Ken watched as the elevator doors shut.  Walking over to the phone, he picked it up and dialed the extension for the intercom.

            “Spike Michels to Neurology, stat.  Spike Michels to Neurology, stat.”

            Ken figured if Spike were anywhere in the building, he’d come running by the addition of ‘stat’ to the request.  Turning back toward Darcy, Ken said, “How’s Hank and Maisie doing?”

            “Maisie has settled down.  I checked on her while you were talking with Slick.  She’s comfortably sleeping and her vitals are all normal.  Nothing like a little bit ago.”

            “And Hank?”

            “He seems to be okay too.  He’s still not waking up, but his vitals and brain wave activity seem to be fine.  I haven’t noticed any changes since I started my shift.”

            “How is he for fluids?”

            “Okay right now.  Since you had the IV’s removed this afternoon, no new ones have been administered.”

            “Okay.  Let me run down to the lab.  We have an emergency shipment of new bags coming in tonight.  I’ll check and see if they’ve come in yet.  I notified the other departments that the IV bags might be contaminated, so they stopped using them.  No other departments have reported the symptoms that we had here on our floor, but still, just to be sure…”

            “I’ll be here,” Darcy said with a smile.

            “I might be,” Gretchen said as she passed behind Darcy catching the end of the conversation. 

            Ken and Darcy looked at each other and rolled their eyes. 

            “Do you think she’s ever been happy about anything?” Darcy asked.

            “Maybe about going home and getting away from people.  Other than that, I don’t know.  I’ll be back in a bit.”

            “See you then.”

            Ken turned and pushed the down button on the elevator.  The doors opened and he climbed aboard.  The doors shut and Ken descended 30 feet to the second floor.  Exiting the elevator, he walked to the lab.  Glancing at his watch, it read 8:23 p.m.  Chandini should have gone home by now.  Opening the door, Ken walked in.  Looking around, he saw no one.  The room was quiet.  A few magazines lay scattered on the waiting table and few toys sat in a box in the corner for the kids that might have to come into the lab.  He rang the small bell on the counter.  No response.  Leaning over the counter, he looked into the lab.  He rang the bell again.  Still no response.  That’s strange.  Someone should be on the night shift Ken thought.  Turning toward the door to the lab, Ken noticed a sheet of paper on the floor.  Picking it up he turned it over.  It read Back in 10 minutes.  As per usual, Ken must have just missed the person on night shift.  Whoever was on should be back any second.  Ken decided to wait.  Turning, he sat down in the waiting room and picked up the latest edition of Newsweek. The cover had some article about famous scientists and their discoveries over the past 200 years.  Ken flipped through it scanning the contents but not really reading any of it. 

    Setting down the magazine, Ken closed his eyes.  He was beat from the mentally and physically exhausting day.  Lying with his head against the back of the chair, Ken began to relax.  Then, the muffled sound of something thumping caught his ear.  Opening one eye, Ken glanced around the room expecting to see the lab technician entering.  The room remained empty.  He shut his eyes again.  A few seconds later, there was another thump.  Ken opened his eyes again, this time fully.  Straining to hear, he looked around the room.  He didn’t see or hear anything.  Sitting back in his chair, Ken began to relax again when he heard the thump for the third time.  Standing up, Ken stood perfectly still and strained to hear the slightest sound of anything in the room.  After a few seconds, he heard it again.  It sounded like it was coming from behind the wall.  Walking over to the wall, Ken stood quietly waiting.  Again, the thump, but louder.  Curious what was going on, Ken walked over and tried to open the lab door.  It was locked.  He stood there for a moment and then turned around backward and hopped up onto the countertop between the waiting room and the lab.  Swinging his feet over the top, Ken dropped off the backside and onto the floor.

    To his left was the supply room.  Ken walked over to the door, but it also was locked.  Standing quietly, he put his ear to the door.  After a few minutes, he heard the thumping again.  This time it sounded more like something struggling and banging against the wall.  Ken called out, “Hello.  Is somebody in there?”  It was quiet for a few seconds and then the thumping started again, this time louder and more violently.  “Hello.  Is someone in there?”  Immediately, the thumping increased and Ken thought he could hear the sounds of someone’s muffled voice.  In desperation, Ken grabbed the doorknob again and tried to turn it.  It was still locked.  Using his shoulder as a battering ram, Ken tried to break the door open.  It wouldn’t budge. 

    “Excuse me, but what are you doing?”

    Startled, Ken turned to look Slick in the face.

    “Slick, man am I glad to see you.  It sounds like someone’s stuck in the supply room.  Maybe they fell and got hurt.  I can’t get the door open though.  Bring your key here and open.  We’ll see who it is.”

Slick stood for a moment fingering the syringe in his coat pocket. 

    “Slick, what are you waiting for?”

    Snapped back to reality, Slick said, “Ken.  No one’s in there.  Chandini left when I left to come find you.  Both doors were locked.  The night techs rarely go in there unless there’s something they need that can’t wait until the morning.”

    “Well, that may be so, but someone or something is thumping around inside the door.”

    “Don’t worry about that.  That’s the heating pipes in the wall.  They thump around and make noise all the time while I’m working.”

    “Let’s just open the door to make sure.  It would ease my mind knowing that I checked.  I could have sworn that the sound was that of a person moaning and mumbling.”

    “I don’t think that’s a good idea Ken.”  Slick wrapped his fingers around the syringe in preparation for use.

    “Why not?  I just want to check.  What’s wrong with that?”

    “Nothing, really.  It’s just…”

    “Slick buddy, you’re here late tonight.”

    Whirling around, Slick’s eyes met Dalmar, the tall, black night technician. 

    “Give me five.”  Dalmar put his hand up in the traditional high-five pose.  Slick, although always a gentleman and always appearing controlled, seemed to always drop that façade when he was around Dalmar.  Dalmar’s cool demeanor, his friendly disposition and his exuberance seemed to bring out the relaxed side of everyone he met.  Standing six feet one and well built, he made Slick’s physique appear weak. 

    “Dalmar!  How’s it going?”  Letting go of the syringe in his pocket, Slick reached up and completed the high-five gesture.

    “So, why are you here man?”

    “I came back to grab a couple of things I’d forgotten.  I had been talking to Ken here upstairs and then on my way out remembered why I dropped by.”

    “Cool.  It’s good to see you.”

    “Guys,” Ken interrupted; “we need to open this door.”

    “What’s goin’ on?” Dalmar asked.

    “I think someone is trapped in this room or something.  Have you been in there tonight?”

    “Not yet.  I didn’t have any reason to be.”

    “Well, let’s open it and see.”

    Slick stepped aside as Dalmar inserted his key into the lock.  Opening the door and turning on the lights, Dalmar stepped in followed by Ken and Slick.  Ken looked around the room and then behind the door.  There, lying on the floor was Chandini, bound and gagged.

    “Chandini!  What happened?” Ken asked in a frantic voice.

    Untying her gag, she gasped for air tried to talk.

    “Calm down.  Get some air first.”

    Chandini took several breathes of air and started to relax. 

    “So, what happened?” Dalmar asked. 

    “I don’t know.  I was getting ready to leave when I heard some noises in here.  I came in to see what it was and someone grabbed me and shut off the lights.  They tied me up and gagged me so I couldn’t scream and then left.”  Chandini started to sob. 

    “It’s okay now.  We’re here.”  Slick hugged Chandini in a tender and compassionate embrace.  “Let’s get these ropes off of you.”  Letting go of Chandini, Ken, Dalmar and Slick went about untying her bonds. 

    “Thank you all.  I didn’t know how long I would be here.”

    “When did this happen?” Slick asked.

    “Just as I was leaving, so around 8:00 p.m.”

            Dalmar looked at the gold watch on his massive forearm.  “It’s now 8:33 p.m.  You’ve been in here about a half an hour or so.”

            Slick looked at Ken with a look of affirmation.  “Spike.”

            “What?”

            “Spike.  Doesn’t this just add weight to what we talked about a few minutes ago?  He disappears, the IV bags are tainted, Benita’s face, it all ties together.  He was probably in here sabotaging more bags when Chandini came in.  So, what’s he do?  He ties her up, hides his identity and disappears.  I tell you, he’s one sick puppy.”

            Ken’s wall of support for Spike’s innocence was beginning to crumble.  Slick was right.  Everything seemed to point to Spike.  Ken really didn’t have any choice in the matter. 

            “You think you know who’s responsible for this?” Dalmar asked incredulously. 

            “We may have a suspect,” Ken said.

            “We do have a suspect,” Slick said matter-of-factly.

            “We don’t know that for sure although the evidence does seem to support that.”

            “Ken.  Ken.  When will you accept the fact that Spike’s to blame?  You have the proof.  What else do you need?”

            “I need the police to investigate.  That’s their job and they know what to look for.”

            “Great!  Let’s give them a call.”  Slick walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver.  Dialing 911, he briefly explained the situation.  After a few minutes, he hung up.  “Well, they said they’d be here shortly.  They’ll want to talk to you and anyone who knows Spike.  I told them to have the front desk page you when they arrive.”

            “Fine.  I won’t be going anywhere tonight.”

            “How are you doing?”  Slick put his arm around Chandini in a gesture of comfort.

            “Okay.  I’m still a little shaken though.  I didn’t know what was going to happen.  Thanks for being there for me.”

            “Anytime.  I wouldn’t want anything to happen to such a lovely lady.”

            Chandini blushed and turned away from Slick. 

            “I need to sit and get myself composed before the police show up,” Chandini remarked.

            “That’s a good idea,” Dalmar said.  “I’ll be right here so you don’t have anything to worry about.  If anybody comes back for you, they’ll be sorry.”

            “Thanks Dalmar.  I appreciate it.”

            “I’m going to take care of some paperwork until the police arrive.  Why don’t we all meet them here when they page for us,” Ken said.

            “Sounds good to me,” Dalmar said.

            “Me too,” Chandini replied.

            “Slick, you’ll meet us here as well?”

            “That would be fine.  I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

            “Okay.  I’ll see you all then.”

            Ken turned and left.  Slick nodded to Dalmar and Chandini and exited the waiting area.

            The sudden lack of commotion and noise was almost frightening for Chandini.  Dalmar put an arm around her.

            “You’ll be fine.  Why don’t you come over and have a seat next to me.  Just relax until the police arrive.”

            “Thanks.  You’re a good friend.”

            Ken walked over to the elevators for what seemed the millionth time that day.  Stepping aboard, he rode up to the fifth floor, exited and went to his office to work.  Meanwhile, Slick had also climbed to the fifth floor, but by using the stairs.  Slowly opening the door, he looked both directions to make sure he wouldn’t be seen.  Then, cautiously and on full alert, he headed for Hank’s room, his hand in his pocket wrapped around a syringe. 

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