Posts by Laurel L. Russwurm

59

Blue hospital sign with an arrowat the side of the highwayThe transition to morning goes unnoticed by Val Thompson, Christie’s Night Security Chief. He leans against the wall inside the hospital waiting room doorway, radiating tension, unhappy to have a student attack on his watch.

Bad for business. Bad for the school. Having law enforcement wannabes like Connor as the rule rather than the exception doesn’t help. More retired cops like Vlad would be best.

Quentin paces in the waiting room, Jake sits stiffly on one of the hard plastic chairs. Liz shelters under Ethan’s arm with a kind of vacant look in her eyes.

Elsie pushes her way past Val and takes a position in the center of the room so she can address the student contingent. “Natasha’s still unconscious but all her vital signs are good. The doctor thinks she’ll probably be fine. But they won’t know for sure until she wakes up.”

“There was so much blood,” says Jake, “I was afraid that she might be, I thought she was … dead.”

“Scalp wounds bleed. The doctor said the blow to her head wasn’t so bad. They were worried about exposure, she was in the cold so long, but she’s warmed up, so that’s good.”

Liz looks up at Elsie and asks, “Was it, was she …?

Elsie nods, “Yes, she was raped. But she’s alive. It’s looking pretty good for her. If she’d been out there all night before anybody even looked for her, it might have been a lot different.”

Liz nods miserably and Ethan hugs her more tightly.

“There is also some brain swelling, so they’re considering inducing a coma if she starts waking up too soon.”

Ethan says, “That doesn’t sound too good Else.”

“It’s precautionary, to prevent brain damage. Anyway, the cops are talking to the doc, but they want to talk to us all before we go home.”

Quentin raises his hand, “Uh, can I go first? I haven’t been able to get through to my wife, she’s gonna be steamed.”

Val nods. “I don’t see why not.”

The door opens and a couple of uniformed officers come in. Val asks if they’ll speak to Quentin first. The officer nods and Quentin follows them out into the hall.

They all cram into a small office barely big enough to house a desk and three chairs. The younger officer says, “I’m P.C. McKay. Maybe you can tell me how you came to be involved in the search tonight Mr. Bradbury?”

Back in the waiting room Elsie puts some change in the drinks machine and pulls out a bottle of Gatorade.

Jake tells Val, “I’ve never been interviewed by cops.”

“You’ll be fine.” Val says. “Just answer their questions.”

Jake shrugs, “You know, what happened to Natasha was horrible, but in a sick way it’s kind of exciting too.”

“That’s normal.” smiles Val. “Look, Jake, can you and your friend make sure to come by security tomorrow? I guess technically today. I’d like to get your statements about Connor.”

“That guy’s a real creep.”

“True. But I can’t just fire him for being a creep. That’s why I need your statements about what happened tonight. The smart guys come to Christie for an education, so we’re left with a pretty shallow gene pool for guards. Still, I’d rather be short handed than keep Connor. So your help would be appreciated.”

“Oh sure. And I think Q will be happy to help too.”

“Thanks.” says Val.

Jake nods, and goes back to sit with Ethan and Liz. Val keeps his position by the door, and Elsie offers him a sip of her Gatorade.

Across the room, Ethan watches the way Elsie extends the bottle cautiously to the big man, almost like she’s afraid she’s gonna get bitten. Ethan wishes he had his camera since the combination of the gritty institutional room under fluorescents would make an excellent backdrop to the image the two cast. Kind of a beauty and the beast motif, with the guard’s bloated bodybuilder physique angled against Elsie’s delicate beauty. Still, Ethan has a pretty good idea which one is the beast.

“Do you think they’ll let us see Natasha?” Jake asks.

“Maybe tomorrow. I hope she’ll be OK.”

Ethan says “She’ll be okay. She’s got good friends.”

“Oh God,” Liz’s eyes are wide, “Nobody told Boris.”

“Nobody told anybody.”

“But Boris, he’ll be devastated.”

Ethan and Jake exchange looks. It has occurred to both of them that Boris may very well be the prime suspect.

Over by the door, Val hands the bottle back to Elsie.
“So how’ve you been.” she asks.

Val answers guardedly, “Good.”

“Still married?”

“Very happily. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Too bad.”

“I’m happy, Else.”

Elsie’s eyes flash as she says, “You shouldn’t be happy damn it. You should be a doctor.” She stops abruptly as she’s spoken with more heat than intended, then glances over at the others, gratified to see that they’re in their own world.

“It’s over, Elsie. Just let it lay.”

Under icy control Elsie says, “Whatever.”

Val looks at her sharply, “Are you happy?”

“Yes, thank you, I’m ecstatic. Rapturous even.”

Val smiles. “I worry about you sometimes still.”

“Oh don’t. You wouldn’t believe how very many talented men there are in the world. I’m having the time of my life, dear.”

“I’d be happy to hear you’re happy, Else.”

“I’m happy one of us will have our dream come true.”

Val shakes his head, “It wasn’t ever my dream, babe. I just went along because you wanted it so much.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

“That’s what’s true. I know you never really listened to me, but I tried to tell you that for a long time.”

The younger police officer sticks his head in to the waiting room. “Who’s next?” he asks. Jake stands up with alacrity, and the officer nods, so Jake follows him down the hall to a small office adjacent to the nurse’s station.

The uniformed cop’s deferential posture makes it clear the guy in plain clothes seated behind the desk is the top dog. Jake assumes he’s a detective like Pembleton. The uniformed cop takes the seat by the wall and flips open the netbook perched on the corner of the desk.

The plainclothes cop stands, extends a hand to Jake and says, “I’m Detective Wolfrom, this is P.C. McKay. And you are?”

“Jake Ellis.” Gingerly shaking Wolfrom’s hand, Jake is relieved his hand is only a little crushed when the detective releases it. Wolfram gestures toward the chair and they sit.

Wolfrom asks “So, you were one of the searchers tonight, is that right?” The uniformed officer quietly transcribes the interview, typing everything into the small computer.

Jake says, “Yeah. Liz was worried because Natasha didn’t show up at the car show.”

“Lets try and keep it to what you know directly, okay? What you yourself saw, heard and did.”

Jake nods. “You mean Liz asked me to help find Natasha?”

Wolfrom nods. “Right, knowledge you know yourself, not what you’ve heard, or inferred. How did that happen?”

“Okay, I guess it was around four thirty or so, and I was looking to see if anybody wanted to come to the computer club meeting when I ran into Liz.”

“And where was this?”

“In the library. Liz was looking for Natasha, and she was mad because Natasha didn’t come to the car show. Which was weird because it was her idea, Natasha’s I mean.”

“That’s the Antique Car Show at the Waterfront Mall?”

“That’s right. Natasha never showed up. Liz said she couldn’t get Natasha on her cell either. So Liz was mad at Natasha, but she didn’t know about the fight.”

Wolfrom frowns. “Fight?”

“Yeah, I didn’t see it though so maybe.”

Wolfrom shakes his head, “No, no, it’s okay, it can provide the background. Tell me about the fight.”

“Well, Boris and Natasha had a big fight at lunch, and she took a swing at him.”

Wolfrom fixes Jake with a look. “Son, this isn’t a game.”
Jake frowns, then he gets it. “Oh, the names. It’s their real names, Boris Horvat and Natasha Panov. they’re both photography majors.”

Mollified, Wolfrom nods. “Oh. Alright, then.” Glancing down at his notebook, he asks, “How did you get involved the search?”

“When Liz got back she was looking for Natasha, so I helped ask around but nobody’d seen Natasha since the fight. That’s when Liz got worried, so she rounded us up and got us out looking, and then, well, we found her.”

Wolfrom nods. “What was the fight about?”

Jake shrugs. “They say Natasha knocked him down.”

“How did you know where to look for her?”

“After the fight people said she took off into the woods. But there were conflicting stories as to which path she took.”

“Where were you this afternoon?”

“A lecture after lunch, then I was taking pictures.”

“Where?”

“Here in the hospital. The nursery. My prof recommended me.” Jake frowns. “Wait a minute, you mean I’m a suspect?”

“Every male anywhere near this campus is a suspect.”

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60

sunrise through the trees

Jake and Elsie stumble companionably into the residence. She’s far too drained to give him a hard time, and he’s much too tired to care.

“Goodnight Elsie. Thanks.” says Jake, surprised at how much he really means it, as he heads down the hall.

Elsie nods and is crossing through the common room toward the interior stairs when she notices the sectional is occupied. She’s started up the stairs when she realizes that it’s Eric’s unmistakable profile against the blue cushions. He’s snoring a little, and some one’s draped the afghan over him.

Hmm, she smiles, thinking, he’s been waiting up for her. That’s a rush. Tired or not, she decides she might like to enjoy a little Eric. He always liked her special way of waking him.

Drifting back down the stairs, loosening her blouse on the way she’s a little surprised at just how excited she actually is. Maybe she misses Eric. But as she rounds the sofa she realizes that something’s not right. Ah. The lump in his armpit isn’t the dreadful pink afghan, it’s that bitch Amelia. Guess she read that wrong. Elsie beats a retreat. Back to Plan A.

At least the batteries will be charged by now.

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61

 Police Car driiving into the Christie Campus

Detective Lewis notes the police cars blocking the university lot as she changes lanes for the hospital entrance. She finds a parking spot and hurries into the building. But when she sees her partner sitting outside a closed door, hunched over his iphone, his look of concentration tells her he’s playing a video game.

“And you needed me urgently because …?”

Detective Wolfrom grins sheepishly. “Sorry. I figured it was better to lob some angry birds than lose it with a suspect. I didn’t think you’d mind coming back on rotation a little early. Getting a jump on it.” He stows the cell phone in its holster on his belt.

“Suspect?” Lewis asks. “What have we got?”

“Group of students arranged an unofficial search party for a missing classmate, Natasha Panov. The searchers found her in the woods behind the campus. Raped and badly beaten.”

“Not rape, sexual assault. How’s the vic doing?”

“Unconscious. The doc seems to think she’ll live.”

“And you have a suspect already?”

“Well. Kind of.” Wolfrom shrugs, indicating the closed door behind him. “This guy was one of the searchers, but when I ask him anything, he just won’t answer.” Lewis shoots him a look. “Well, everybody’s a suspect.”

“Yes, but remember the doer is usually exactly who you expect. The boyfriend or the guy she wouldn’t go out with. Or come across for. Real people don’t screw around with complicated plots, Wolfie. They don’t plan elaborate strategies and join search parties to throw the intrepid cops off the scent like in the movies. In real life people just act on impulse ’cause they’re mad or frustrated. Being in the search party doesn’t make the guy more likely.”

“So why won’t he answer even the simplest questions?”

Lewis shrugs. “Like every other fricken college kid he probably read that damn Boingboing article warning civilians never to talk to cops.”

“Oh. I must’ve missed that one.”

“You know, Wolfie, next time that Doctorow’s in town lecturing at Christie I’ll have a few choice words for the guy. What do you want from me?”

“I was kind of hoping you’d maybe bat your eyelashes at the guy or slap him around or something.”

“Yeah right.” Lewis laughs. “Seriously, though, do you have any reason for thinking he’s the guy?”

“Well, no. I don’t know anything about him because he won’t talk.” Wolfrom shakes his head.

“You have the guy’s name?”

“Pretty much name rank and serial number. Ethan Sumner, teaching assistant, third year photography, lives in residence. Vic is a photography first year, lives in the same res.”

“All right, let me take a run at him.”

Wolfrom opens the door and reveals Ethan sitting stiffly in the patient chair across the desk in the small office. He looks up sullenly when the door opens.

“Hello Mr. Sumner, I’m detective Lewis. I understand you were with the search party. Is there any information you can help us out with tonight?”

“I’ve helped as much as I’m able.”

“Detective Wolfrom tells me you’re not answering questions.”

Ethan nods. “That’s correct.”

“I don’t understand that, Mr. Sumner.” Detective Lewis asks, “Don’t you want to help your friend? I mean, you went out searching to help find her, and you found her. Now that she’s safe we want the guy who did it. I don’t understand how not talking to us helps her.”

Ethan says, “I have a right to remain silent.”

“Ah. Well, that’s true enough, but just so you know, real life in Canada is just a little different than what you see on American television. You do have the right to remain silent, but we have the right to hold it against you later in court. Still, you’re not charged, so I don’t see why you won’t talk to us.”

Ethan repeats, “I have a right to remain silent.”

“Are you saying that we should be arresting you?” Detective Wolfrom speaks from behind Ethan, where he’s leaning against the door jamb. “Was it you who attacked her, then?”

Ethan turns to glare at Wolfrom. “No, it wasn’t me, but I still don’t have to tell you anything.”

Lewis says, “You do realize that as long as you stand mute, we can’t eliminate you as a suspect.”

“You people will do what you want either way. You can either arrest me or let me go.”

Lewis shrugs. “You’re not making it any easier, Mr. Sumner. I certainly hope that no one else gets raped because you chose not to share information with us.”

Ethan just glares. “Am I free to leave?”

Lewis and Wolfrom exchange glances. They don’t have anything on the guy beyond belligerence. “You have always been free to go. You aren’t under arrest, we’ve only asked you questions as a witness. We may need to speak with you again.”

“Will I get a lawyer then?”

Lewis shakes her head. “Mr. Sumner, you are free to consult with a lawyer at any time you like. However the only time the court appoints a lawyer is after your arrest if you are unable to hire your own.”

“Fine. Maybe I’ll talk to you then.” Lewis notes a little yellow button affixed to the backpack as he takes it off the back of the chair and slings it over his shoulder.

Wolfrom starts to open his mouth to explain that lawyers aren’t allowed in interrogations, but Lewis just shakes her head, so he subsides and watches the student stomp out of the room.

As the door swings closed, Wolfrom says, “I wish they would stop getting legal advice from American cop shows.”

“That’s life, Wolfie.”

“Wouldn’t you think he’d be friends with the vic, he was out searching for her. You think he’s the doer?”

Lewis shrugs. “No idea. But did you see the “Free Byron” button on his backpack?”

“No.” Wolfrom frowns. “What’s that mean?”

“It means this Sumner kid supports the G20 protesters.”

“Oh shit.”

Lewis says, “Since all cops are assholes, talking to us is bad.”

“But that was nothing to do with us. That was Toronto.”

“Tell it to the Internet.”

“Yeah.” Wolfrom sighs. “And that crazy Boingboing.”

“All I know is it makes the job that much more impossible. Let’s just hope that they’re not all like that, ’cause if they are we’ll never catch this fuckin’ perp.”

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62

leaveson the ground

thursday

Police have stretched crime scene tape around the wooded path, and crime scene technicians comb the immediate area where Natasha was found.

In the light of day, Val Thompson, the security chief, is gray with exhaustion as he walks Detective Lewis along the route Natasha most likely followed. Detective Lewis scans the path carefully, but it just looks like wood chips to her.

A uniformed officer calls, “I need a tech over here.”

Lewis and Val leg it over to where the smug officer waits.

“What’ve you got?” asks Lewis.

“Looks like somebody’s been laying in wait in here. Lots of cigarette butts, stomped down earth, screened by the shrubs.

“That’s great,” says Val. “You can get DNA off the butts?”

“Maybe. None of them look too fresh.”

“Maybe this was where he scoped things out. Great work Harris.”

Harris preens as Lewis leads Val back to the paved path, saying. “Just don’t expect magic here, Val. CSI is only a TV show, and DNA only helps when there is a suspect to match.”

“Yes, I am aware of that, Detective Lewis.”

“Good, then. We may get something out of canvassing the neighborhood.”

Val asks, “What can we do to help you, Detective?”

“We’re gonna have to interview students. Her friends, classmates. Anyone who might have information. Can you round up a couple of on campus rooms we can use for interviews?”

“Yeah. Sure.” says Val, “That’s a surprise. The other rape we had didn’t get nearly this much law enforcement attention.”

“You talking date rape,Val?”

“Yeah. It was at a frat party.”

“This is different for two reasons. She holds up her index finger and says, “One, it looks premeditated. Laying in wait. Possibly a stranger, but maybe not. Either way, a predator.”

“Uh oh. You’re saying this isn’t going to be the only one?”

“That’s why we’re coming down on it hard, Val. The level of violence is very disturbing.” Lewis holds up a second finger. “He hit her hard enough to knock her out. Maybe she knows him, and he didn’t want her to identify him, but the perp didn’t just rape her, he used her as a punching bag, and when he was done he just walked away. Leaving her out in the elements without even an anonymous tip. Pretty cold.”

“You’re saying it’s not just a crime of opportunity.”

“We don’t know much of anything yet, but it’s a strong possibility. And, number three,” adding a final finger Lewis says, “The worst is that the perp doesn’t need a conscious victim.”

Val blanches as he gets the implication. “That’s bad.”

Lewis nods. “I have to get to the hospital. The victim’s regained consciousness. Maybe she can tell us something so we can keep it from happening again.”

“I’ll get you that interview room.”

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63

White letters spell out "Emergency" on a blue sign hanging on a red brick wall., with shadows of trees reflected on the signs's shiny surface

With hair swaddled in bandages and her forehead approximating a rainbow that ends in violet rings around her eyes, Natasha knows she’s looked better. Propped up in a hospital bed, she tries to listen to the cop asking her questions but it’s hard staying focused.

Detective Lewis asks, “Did you see anyone? Or anything out of the ordinary?”

“It’s fuzzy, but no, I didn’t see anything. I was on my way to catch a bus, meet Liz, take some pictures. I heard crying.”

Lewis frowns, “Crying?”

“In the bushes, well that’s what I thought, anyway. I was gonna keep going, ’cause I’d just had a big fight with my best friend, but then I thought hey, maybe I can help, you know? Famous last words.”

Natasha smiles ruefully and tries to shake her head but the quick movement triggers a wave of agony causing her to freeze mid wince. “Owww.”

Natasha grips the bed rail tightly for a minute to allow the pain to subside. “Okay, I gotta try to remember that the only reason I don’t feel like total crap is the heavy shit they’re pumping into me.” Her breathing is returning to normal. “Um. Where was I?”

Glancing at her notebook Lewis says, “You heard crying and were going to try to help.”

“Okay, right. So I went off the path where I thought the crying was coming from but then I couldn’t hear it anymore so I called and blundered in through the trees. Dumb, eh?”

“No”, Lewis says, “Not dumb. You were trying to help someone. That’s never dumb. Going so far of the path– now that was dumb.”

Natasha winces, “Don’t make me laugh.”

Lewis pulls a face, “Sorry. You were really lucky your friends went looking for you. If they hadn’t found you when they did you would be in much worse shape.”

“Yeah,”agrees Natasha quietly. “The doctor said.”

“That’s all for now, here’s my card, ” Lewis sets it on the night table, “In case you remember anything else. You got a pretty good thump. When you’re feeling better things might come back to you. So you’ll give me a call if you remember anything, right?”

“Sure,” Natasha smiles, dreamily watching Lewis leave. And then here comes Liz and Ethan. Natasha smiles wider, careful not to laugh because more than anything they look like the undead.

“You guys look like crap. I hope I don’t look that bad.”

“Oh Natasha, I’m so glad you’re gonna be OK.” smiles Liz through moist eyes,

“I heard you’re the only reason I’m still kicking, girl, and I want to tell you I appre.. app…b…bleh… you know.”

Liz nods, and Ethan says, “Good drugs, eh Nat?”

“Oh yeah. But I think I’m gonna…” and her eyes slide closed. A small trilling snore escapes her lips.

Ethan gives Liz a hug, and tells her, “Okay, she’s gonna live. I don’t know about you but I need sleep or coffee. Or both.”

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