As to age: four were sixteen, two were seventeen, three were fifteen, one eighteen.
Was it neighborhood?
No.
Clubs or extracurricular activities?
No.
Gang affiliations?
Hardly.
What was it?
Ask and ye shall receive, Jessica thought. The answer was right in front of them.
It was the hospital.
St.Joseph's was what they had in common.
'Look at this,' Jessica said.
On the day they had tried to kill themselves, the five girls treated at St. Joseph's were Nicole Taylor, Tessa Wells, Bethany Price, Kristi Hamilton, and Lauren Semanski.
The rest were treated elsewhere, at five different hospitals.
'My God,' Byrne said. 'That's it.'
It was the break they were looking for.
But the fact that all of these girls were treated at one hospital was not what made Jessica shaky. The fact that they all tried to commit suicide wasn't it, either.
The fact that made the room lose all of its air was this:
The same doctor had treated them all: Dr. Patrick Farrell.
64
FRIDAY, 6:15 PM
Patrick sat in Interview Room A. Eric Chavez and John Shepherd handled the interview while Byrne and Jessica observed. The interview was being videotaped.
As far as Patrick knew, he was merely a material witness in the case.
He had a recent scratch on his right hand.
When they could, they would scrape beneath Lauren Semanski's fingernails, looking for DNA evidence. Unfortunately, according to the CSU, it probably wouldn't yield much. Lauren was lucky to even have fingernails.
They had gone over Patrick's schedule for the previous week, and, to Jessica's chagrin, they had learned that there wasn't a single day that would have prevented Patrick from abducting the victims, nor dumping their bodies.
The thought made Jessica physically ill. Was she really considering the notion that Patrick had something to do with these murders? With each passing minute, the answer was getting closer to yes. The next minute dissuaded her. She really didn't know what to think.
Nick Palladino and Tony Park were on their way to the Wilhelm Kreuz crime scene with a photograph of Patrick. It was unlikely that old Agnes Pinsky would remember him-even if she did pick him out of a photo lineup, her credibility would be torn to shreds by even a public defender. Nick and Tony would canvass up and down the street nonetheless. 'I hadn't been keeping up with the news, I'm afraid,' Patrick said.
'I can understand that,' Shepherd replied. He was sitting on the edge of the battered metal table. Eric Chavez leaned against the door. 'I'm sure you see enough of the ugly side of life where you work.'
'We have our triumphs,' Patrick said.
'So, you're saying that you were not aware that any of these girls had at one time been a patient of yours?'
'An ER physician, especially in an inner-city trauma center, works triage, Detective. The patient needing the most immediate care is treated first. After patients are patched up and sent home, or admitted, they are always referred to their primary care physician. The concept of patient doesn't really apply. People who come to an emergency room may only be a patient of any given doctor for an hour. Sometimes less. Quite often less. Thousands of people pass through St. Joseph's ER every year.'
Shepherd listened, nodding at all the appropriate cues, absently straightening the already perfect creases in his pants. Explaining the concept of triage to a veteran homicide detective was wholly unnecessary. Everyone in Interview Room A knew that.
'That doesn't really answer my question, though, Dr. Farrell.'
'It seemed that I knew the name Tessa Wells when I heard it on the news. I didn't, however, make any immediate connection to whether or not St. Joseph's had provided her with emergency care.'
Bullshit, Jessica thought, her anger growing. They had discussed Tessa Wells the night they had a drink at Finnigan's Wake.
'You say St. Joseph's as if it was the institution that treated her that day,' Shepherd said. 'It'syour name on the file.'
Shepherd held up the file for Patrick to see.
'The record doesn't lie, Detective,' Patrick said. 'I must have treated her.'
Shepherd held up a second file. 'And you treated Nicole Taylor.'
'Again, I really don't recall.'
A third file. 'And Bethany Price.'
Patrick stared.
Two more files in his face now. 'Kristi Hamilton spent four hours in your care. Lauren Semanski five.'
'I defer to the record, Detective,' Patrick said.
'All five of these girls were abducted and four of them were brutally murdered this week, Doctor. This week. Five female, teenaged victims who just happened to pass through your office within the past ten months.'
Patrick shrugged.
John Shepherd asked, 'You can certainly understand our interest in you at this point, can't you?'
'Oh, absolutely,' Patrick said. 'As long as your interest in me is in the nature of material witness. As long as that's the case, I'll be happy to help in any way I can.'
'By the way, how did you get that scratch on your hand?'
It was clear that Patrick had an answer well prepared for this. He wasn't, however, going to blurt anything out. 'It's a long story.'
Shepherd looked at his watch. 'I've got all night.' He looked at Chavez. 'How about you, Detective?'
'I cleared my schedule just in case.'
They both turned their attention back to Patrick.
'Let's just say that one should always beware of a wet cat,' Patrick said. Jessica saw the charm shine through. Unfortunately for Patrick, these two detectives were immune.At the moment, so was Jessica.
Shepherd and Chavez exchanged a glance. 'Have truer words ever been spoken?' Chavez asked.
'You're saying a cat did that?' Shepherd asked.
'Yes,' Patrick replied. 'She was outside all day in the rain. When I got home tonight, I saw her shivering in the bushes. I tried to pick her up. Bad idea.'
'What's her name?'
It was an old interrogation trick. Someone mentions an alibi-related person, you slam them immediately with a question regarding the name. This time, it was a pet. Patrick was not prepared.
'Her name?' he asked.
It was a stall. Shepherd had him. Shepherd then got closer, looking at the scratch. 'What is it, a pet bobcat?'
Excuse me?
Shepherd stood up, leaned against the wall. Friendly, now. 'See, Dr. Farrell, I have four daughters. They
