“And that’s what the attending physician put on the report.”
Megan scowled. “The attending physician was Dr. Henry Plunkett. He was on short time. Less than three months to go before retirement. He’d been military all his life. Putting Gerry’s story down as Gerry relayed it was the path of least resistance. He didn’t want to rock the boat.” She paused. “And truth to tell, I didn’t push him hard.”
“Why?”
“At that point, I didn’t have enough history with the family to make a charge stick.” Megan took a breath and tried to keep the frustration at bay. The effort was harder than normal because her encounter with Trimble kept coloring her thinking. “In a domestic situation like this, you have to be careful how you handle things. If you push too early with not enough information, you can wreck the case forever and always.”
“Because the defendant can prove a case for prejudice on the part of the counselor.”
“Exactly.” Megan was surprised, and it must have showed.
Benbow gave her a small smile. “A situation like this wasn’t exactly something we covered in law school. I’ve been doing my homework.”
“Yes, it seems that you have,” Megan commented. She felt a little better. Lieutenant Doug Benbow was new to Fort Benning and new to his legal profession, but he seemed surprisingly thorough.
“But on June sixteenth you didn’t believe Gerry’s story about falling was the truth.”
“Helen Cordell—”
“The night-shift supervisor of the counseling center?”
“Yes. She was.” Helen and her husband had vanished in the disappearances. Megan’s friendship with the woman had been deep and had spanned several years. She missed Helen terribly.
“She’s gone. One of the vanished.”
Megan felt a stab of pain at how casually those words rolled off Benbow’s tongue. That was how so many people who had been left behind had categorized those who had disappeared. The vanished. Like it was some kind of terminal illness the rest of them were lucky not to have gotten infected with.
If they only knew the truth.
For a moment, Megan wondered what it would have been like to arrive in heaven with Chris. He would have been so full of wonder, the way he was when they went to the zoo or the park or the mall. Almost any place. His eyes had constantly made the world new to her. She almost felt his small hand in hers, and her hand clutched at his reflexively. Only he wasn’t there. Tears burned the back of her eyes.
“Are you all right?” Benbow asked. Worry creased his forehead.
“I’m fine.” Megan’s voice sounded tight. “Like you said, last night was a long night.”
Benbow nodded, but he didn’t look overly certain. “Maybe we could postpone this to another time.”
“I can’t guarantee when that time would be.”
“All right.” The lieutenant referred to his notes again. “Helen Cordell told you something about the bruising on Gerry’s ribs the first time he was admitted to the emergency room here at the fort hospital.”
“She told me that she didn’t believe Gerry had gotten hurt during a fall down a flight of stairs.”
“Why?”
“Because the injury looked like the result of multiple impacts—and the bruising wasn’t consistent with impact with stairs.”
“What do you mean?”
“Helen believed after observing the injury that the bruising was caused by repeated punches. Unfortunately, the bruising was old enough and so heavily massed that knuckle imprints didn’t show up.”
Benbow’s brows drew together and he didn’t look happy.
“Doug,” Megan said, “Gerry’s life was hard in some respects.”
“Yeah. I know that from your reports, and from what you’ve told me there were problems.”
“The reports don’t tell the whole truth. His problem was that his father has an anger-management issue. Whenever Boyd Fletcher got mad at the army or at his wife—whom he suspected of being unfaithful—or came home in a bad mood, Gerry was the one who paid the price.”
“It’s hard for me to imagine a full-grown man beating up a kid.”
“I don’t have to imagine it. Over the years I’ve counseled kids who have had problems like that. Gerry Fletcher’s situation wasn’t unique.”
“But you didn’t have enough evidence to act.”
“No,” Megan confirmed. “Not then.”
“Gerry wouldn’t admit that his father hit him?”
“No.”
Benbow shifted, bringing out a pen and making notes on the index cards. “You followed up with the family?”
“No.”
Benbow looked at her.
“There was no just cause,” Megan explained. “No real proof. Only suspicion, and you’ve got to have a lot more than that to perform in any manner that might suggest accusation. I suggested that I see Gerry again. Just as a follow-up because he seemed apprehensive. I said that maybe the move to Fort Benning wasn’t agreeing with him. But when I tried to set up a time later, Boyd Fletcher declined.”
“And he could do that?”
“Yes. He’s Gerry’s father, and no charges had been filed.”
“You couldn’t do anything about that?”
“No.”
Benbow referred to his notes. “Gerry came into the hospital on three other occasions.”
“Before his arm was broken, yes.”
“We’ll get to the broken arm. I want to discuss the other visits where similar instances of bruising were reported.”
“All of those visits weren’t for medical attention for his injuries. They occurred when Gerry went in for routine medical care—for a vaccination or a flu shot or a round of antibiotics for a cold. On those three occasions you’re talking about, the attending physician made notes that Gerry had ‘suspicious bruising.’”
“Suspicious bruising?”
“Yes.”
“Did you view the bruises?”
“No. I couldn’t. The physicians didn’t ask me to. I only found out about them later. There are all kinds of privacy issues to consider in a case like this.”
“What did you do when you found out about this suspicious bruising?”
“I was able to schedule counseling time with Gerry.”
“Did you see the bruising then?”
“No.”
“Then how were you able to schedule time? Especially if his parents didn’t agree to counseling sessions. Which, I’m guessing, Boyd Fletcher didn’t.”
“He didn’t. I had to go over his head. I suggested to the physician each time that we might want to interview Gerry for possible depressive episodes that might trigger repeated self-inflicted injuries.”
Benbow pursed his lips.
