“I get that,” Lula said. “Sometimes I think about doing some pretty bad shit for those Little Debbies.”
I was working my way through a jelly donut when my cellphone buzzed.
“You gotta help me,” Briggs said. “You gotta get over here. I can’t believe this friggin’ happened. I mean, what are the chances? I finally get a halfway decent job and it turns to doodie right in front of my eyes.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I friggin’ lost another one!”
“Another patient is missing?”
“You got it. Disappeared in the middle of the night just like Cubbin. Nobody knows nothing about it.”
“Did you look at the video?”
“Yeah. Nada. Nothing. Zip. Zero. And I’ve personally gone over every inch of that floor. I’ve looked in every closet, under every bed, in all the bathrooms.”
“He didn’t go home?”
“No. The police looked. His wife says she hasn’t seen him. Not that she cares. They were in the middle of a divorce.”
“And you want me to come to the hospital
“To keep me from blowin’ my brains out.”
“It’s not the end of the world, Randy.”
“Easy for you to say. Just get over here. I could use some help. I had cops crawling all over the hospital. And now I’ve got a pack of reporters camped out in the lobby.”
Seemed like a lot of fuss for someone who was only missing for a few hours. “Who did you lose?”
“Elwood Pitch.”
Oh boy. Elwood Pitch was a state legislator who’s been arrested for human trafficking. He was caught driving a U-Haul crammed with girls ages nine to fourteen. The girls had been smuggled in from Mexico via Port Newark and were told they’d be working as prostitutes. Pitch claimed he thought the truck was full of bananas. What he expected to do with the bananas was never made clear. Like Cubbin, Pitch was awaiting trial.
“Did Pitch get his appendix removed?” I asked Briggs.
“He didn’t get anything removed. He was admitted with stomach pains and kept overnight for observation.”
This was too weird. Two guys out on bail disappear in exactly the same way. Hard to pass it off as a bizarre coincidence.
“I’m on my way,” I told him.
“Where we going?” Lula wanted to know.
“Central Hospital. Elwood Pitch checked in with stomach pains last night. They kept him for observation and he mysteriously disappeared.”
“Get the heck out,” Lula said. “What is this, Lose a Slime-bag Month at that hospital?”
“Briggs wants me to hold his hand,” I said to Lula. “He’s having a meltdown.”
“That don’t sound like a lot of fun to me,” Lula said. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m gonna stay here with the box of donuts. I might even do some filing.”
“Did Vinnie bond out Pitch?” I asked Connie.
“Yes. And it was a really high bond.”
I parked in the hospital lot a half hour later, and I remembered that Tiki was in the backseat. Chances were slim that Logan would find me here, but I thought better safe than sorry, so I locked Tiki in the trunk. I reached the hospital entrance and felt terrible. I’d been locked in a trunk once and it wasn’t good. And now I’d put Tiki in the trunk.
He’s a piece of wood, I told myself. He doesn’t have feelings.
“It’s about time,” Briggs said when he saw me. “What have you got under your arm?”
“Tiki. I didn’t want to leave him in the car.”
“Why?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“I bet.”
We were in Briggs’s office when Morelli strolled in. He was wearing a blue collared shirt, jeans, and running shoes. Other plainclothes cops wore dress slacks and dress shoes and sometimes a suit. When Morelli dressed like that he looked like a casino pit boss, so he had special permission to go casual. He pulled a chair out and slouched into it.
“What have you got?” Morelli said to Briggs.
“Nothing,” Briggs said.
“Are you working missing persons?” I said to Morelli.
“Pitch was my collar. I worked with ICE to bring him down and I don’t like that he’s disappeared. I pulled four nine-year-old girls out of that truck. They were terrified and dehydrated and one of them was unconscious. They were smuggled into the country in a cargo container and then locked in that truck for ten hours. This is personal for me.”
“Me too,” Briggs said. “I look like an idiot. Security at this hospital sucks.”
“Count me in,” I said. “Vinnie bonded Pitch.”
“Walk me through it,” Morelli said. “What do I need to know?”
“There were two nurses on duty,” Briggs said. “Norma Kruger and Julie Marconni.”
“The same nurses that were on duty when Cubbin disappeared,” I said.
Briggs nodded. “Yeah. And the times were the same too. Kruger checked on Pitch at two in the morning and he was sleeping. And then when she went in just before going off shift at seven he was gone.”
“I was on the floor,” Morelli said. “There are security cameras covering all exits.”
“I watched the video,” Briggs said. “I didn’t see Pitch leaving.”
Morelli looked like he’d had heartburn. If he had had Briggs downtown, locked in a little room, he’d have run over him like a four-ton dump truck. Sitting in Briggs’s office on the first floor of Central Hospital required more diplomacy, and diplomacy wasn’t Morelli’s strongest attribute. I suspected Morelli wanted to grab Briggs and shake him like a rag doll until Briggs remembered seeing Pitch leave the building.
“I’d like to see the videos,” I said to Briggs. “Maybe if we all look at them together something will pop out at one of us.”
“Yeah, sure,” Briggs said. “Good idea. I can pull them up on my computer.”
Morelli shot me a look of gratitude that promised a back rub next time we were alone together, and we scooted our chairs around so we could see the screen.
Briggs brought four camera views up at once. Two cameras on the fourth floor and two cameras that covered the exits. He ran the videos at high speed. When they were done we all sat there in silence for a full minute.
“Well?” Briggs asked. “Did you see anything?”
Morelli and I shook our heads. No one had left the floor. It was a snooze fest. Dim light. Nothing happening. Nurses occasionally walking around in uniforms that looked like they were designed by Disney. Very casual and cheerful. What ever happened to the starched white look with the hats? The only time you saw those uniforms anymore was in porno films.
Morelli turned to me. “Is there anything else I should be looking at here?”
“You should talk to the two night nurses. I never interviewed Julie Marconni, and it wouldn’t hurt for you to grill Norma Kruger. I’m pretty sure Kruger is involved somehow.”
“Who works security here on the night shift?” Morelli asked Briggs.
“Mickey Zigler. He’s worked the night shift here forever. He comes on at six and goes off at six. We both do twelve-hour shifts.”
“We’ll be back at six to talk to him,” Morelli said.
I glanced over at Morelli. “We?”
“We’re in this together, Cupcake.”
I thought Morelli was sexy as heck. And I was almost positive I loved him. Whether I could live with him was still up in the air. Whether I could work with him was highly unlikely. We’d tried to work together before and it hadn’t turned out wonderful.
