Backfire
Page 97
Molly said, “Why would Xu murder the doctor who’d saved his life, a doctor he knew?”
“We’re thinking Chu found out what Xu had done at the Fairmont. Virginia said there’d been a call from his number to the police department asking to speak to someone about the Fairmont fire, but the caller hung up. We’re thinking Xu overheard Dr. Chu dialing the cops, and that’s why he killed him.”
Ramsey said from behind them, “Do you think Xu is out of control, Savich?”
Savich and Molly walked back to Ramsey’s bedside. Savich said, “No, I don’t. I think he did what he believed he had to do to save himself. I think all Xu wants is to get out of Dodge, and he’s doing whatever he has to do to accomplish that. He’s not insane or going on some sort of mad killing spree. Not that it matters to Dr. Chu or his family.”
Savich looked over at Officer Lamar Marks, who looked like he’d been punched in the face. Savich knew exactly how he felt, since he’d felt the same way when Delion had first told him. Officer Marks said, “Xu better hope all he needs is this one doctor visit.”
True enough, Savich thought.
Officer Marks said, “He could still end up in an emergency room somewhere.”
Ramsey said, “Lamar’s right. If he’s that bad off, then he’ll need more medical attention.”
Molly said, “Even if he can weather through it, Xu could still be stuck in bed for another week, Dillon.” She brightened. “Maybe he could die.”
“He’s certainly lost enough blood. Dr. Chu couldn’t have transfused him in his office.”
Officer Marks said, “No one saw him at the doctor’s office? No other staff, patients, passersby?”
“We have nothing so far. We do know Xu went to Dr. Chu’s clinic within an hour of his getting shot. The ME estimated Dr. Chu was dead within a couple of hours after that.”
“I wonder where Xu is holed up now?” Officer Marks said.
Savich heard some voices in the corridor behind him and quickly turned. He expected Sherlock, but it was a couple of orderlies. Where was Sherlock?
Savich bolted from the room and ran to the nurses’ station.
Sherlock was tapping her fingers. Why in heaven did everything take so long in a hospital? Well, okay, so she’d been sitting here in the patient waiting area only about ten minutes, but still. Where was a nurse, or the tech to wheel her in and get this business over and done?
She didn’t even need another brain scan. She sincerely hoped it wouldn’t include an injection. Her head was aching again, a slow series of dull thuds. She wanted to get out of here; she wanted to be able to kiss Dillon silly and hug Sean to her, have him pat her shoulder and ask her to play a computer game with him that it would be her responsibility to lose with dignity and guile.
Deputy Ray Rozan stood near the radiology waiting room door, his eyes always on the move, studying anyone for the slightest interest in coming within six feet of her. He was on edge, all the guards were, what with two maniacs out there. But it wasn’t Xu, it was the other unknown man that scared him. They had only a sketch and a description of him: slender build, an American, maybe older, but no one was really sure. Whatever his age, he’d been capable of that mad spree in the elevator on Saturday.
Ray looked over at Sherlock, knew she wanted nothing more than to go home. He watched her pull her cell phone out of the pocket of a dark blue bathrobe with lots of dog hair on it that Savich had brought in for her along with her cell. He’d heard Savich had returned the previous night to sleep on a cot not two feet from her hospital bed. Rozan wondered if he’d told her why he’d been called away. He probably hadn’t, since she didn’t look upset, only a bit anxious. And hurting a little, too, from the fixed expression in her eyes. Her hair looked better without the blood—a soft riot of curls now, so thick it nearly covered the small bandage over the head wound. It was hard to imagine the person in that bathrobe tackling Xu and bringing him down.
“You want me to go see what’s holding up these yahoos, Sherlock?”
She glanced down at her watch. “We can give them another couple of minutes. We’ll make it fifteen minutes, tops. I think I’ll call Dillon, see what’s happened.”
Rozan said it aloud: “Xu killed a physician, the one who treated him.”
She nodded. “Yes, I was told.” She closed her eyes against the stark knowledge of it. She’d been so close, she thought. She’d had Xu flat on his face against the sidewalk. If only she’d had time to get the other cuff on him. If only.
“We’re thinking Chu found out what Xu had done at the Fairmont. Virginia said there’d been a call from his number to the police department asking to speak to someone about the Fairmont fire, but the caller hung up. We’re thinking Xu overheard Dr. Chu dialing the cops, and that’s why he killed him.”
Ramsey said from behind them, “Do you think Xu is out of control, Savich?”
Savich and Molly walked back to Ramsey’s bedside. Savich said, “No, I don’t. I think he did what he believed he had to do to save himself. I think all Xu wants is to get out of Dodge, and he’s doing whatever he has to do to accomplish that. He’s not insane or going on some sort of mad killing spree. Not that it matters to Dr. Chu or his family.”
Savich looked over at Officer Lamar Marks, who looked like he’d been punched in the face. Savich knew exactly how he felt, since he’d felt the same way when Delion had first told him. Officer Marks said, “Xu better hope all he needs is this one doctor visit.”
True enough, Savich thought.
Officer Marks said, “He could still end up in an emergency room somewhere.”
Ramsey said, “Lamar’s right. If he’s that bad off, then he’ll need more medical attention.”
Molly said, “Even if he can weather through it, Xu could still be stuck in bed for another week, Dillon.” She brightened. “Maybe he could die.”
“He’s certainly lost enough blood. Dr. Chu couldn’t have transfused him in his office.”
Officer Marks said, “No one saw him at the doctor’s office? No other staff, patients, passersby?”
“We have nothing so far. We do know Xu went to Dr. Chu’s clinic within an hour of his getting shot. The ME estimated Dr. Chu was dead within a couple of hours after that.”
“I wonder where Xu is holed up now?” Officer Marks said.
Savich heard some voices in the corridor behind him and quickly turned. He expected Sherlock, but it was a couple of orderlies. Where was Sherlock?
Savich bolted from the room and ran to the nurses’ station.
Sherlock was tapping her fingers. Why in heaven did everything take so long in a hospital? Well, okay, so she’d been sitting here in the patient waiting area only about ten minutes, but still. Where was a nurse, or the tech to wheel her in and get this business over and done?
She didn’t even need another brain scan. She sincerely hoped it wouldn’t include an injection. Her head was aching again, a slow series of dull thuds. She wanted to get out of here; she wanted to be able to kiss Dillon silly and hug Sean to her, have him pat her shoulder and ask her to play a computer game with him that it would be her responsibility to lose with dignity and guile.
Deputy Ray Rozan stood near the radiology waiting room door, his eyes always on the move, studying anyone for the slightest interest in coming within six feet of her. He was on edge, all the guards were, what with two maniacs out there. But it wasn’t Xu, it was the other unknown man that scared him. They had only a sketch and a description of him: slender build, an American, maybe older, but no one was really sure. Whatever his age, he’d been capable of that mad spree in the elevator on Saturday.
Ray looked over at Sherlock, knew she wanted nothing more than to go home. He watched her pull her cell phone out of the pocket of a dark blue bathrobe with lots of dog hair on it that Savich had brought in for her along with her cell. He’d heard Savich had returned the previous night to sleep on a cot not two feet from her hospital bed. Rozan wondered if he’d told her why he’d been called away. He probably hadn’t, since she didn’t look upset, only a bit anxious. And hurting a little, too, from the fixed expression in her eyes. Her hair looked better without the blood—a soft riot of curls now, so thick it nearly covered the small bandage over the head wound. It was hard to imagine the person in that bathrobe tackling Xu and bringing him down.
“You want me to go see what’s holding up these yahoos, Sherlock?”
She glanced down at her watch. “We can give them another couple of minutes. We’ll make it fifteen minutes, tops. I think I’ll call Dillon, see what’s happened.”
Rozan said it aloud: “Xu killed a physician, the one who treated him.”
She nodded. “Yes, I was told.” She closed her eyes against the stark knowledge of it. She’d been so close, she thought. She’d had Xu flat on his face against the sidewalk. If only she’d had time to get the other cuff on him. If only.
