"Where was I?" Madeline asked while she put water on the stove to boil.
"I was suggesting Hodges should have been angry with CMV," Calhoun said.
"I remember," Madeline said. "He was angry with CMV, but he was also angry with the hospital because the hospital was agreeing to everything CMV proposed. And Dr. Hodges felt he carried some weight at the hospital."
"Was he angry about anything specific?" Calhoun asked.
"It was a bunch of things," Madeline said. "He was angry about the treatment, or the lack of it, in the emergency room. People couldn't go to the emergency room any more unless they paid cash up front. Other people couldn't get into the hospital when they thought they needed to. The day he disappeared he was really upset by the death of one of his former patients. In fact, several of his former patients had recently died. I remember it specifically because Dr. Hodges used to yell and scream that CMV physicians couldn't keep his patients alive. He felt they were incompetent and that the hospital was abetting their incompetence."
"Can you remember the name of the patient Hodges was upset about the day he disappeared?" Calhoun asked.
"Now you're expecting miracles," Madeline said as she poured the coffee. She handed a cup to Calhoun who helped himself to three heaping teaspoons of sugar and a dollop of cream.
"Wait a minute! I do remember," Madeline said suddenly. "It was Clark Davenport. No doubt in my mind."
Calhoun fished out his set of the copies he and Angela had obtained in Burlington. "Here it is," he said after leafing through. "Clark Davenport, fractured hip."
"Yup, he's the one," Madeline said. "The poor man fell off a ladder trying to get a kitten out of a tree."
"Look at these other names," Calhoun said. He handed the papers to Madeline. "Any of them mean anything to you?"
Madeline took the papers and shuffled through them. "I can remember each and every one," she said. "In fact, these are the patients I mentioned: the ones Dr. Hodges was irritated about. They had all died."
"Hmmm," Calhoun said as he took the papers back. "I knew they had to be related somehow."
"Dr. Hodges was also upset at the hospital people because of the attacks in the parking lot," Madeline added.
"Why was that?" Calhoun asked.
"He felt the hospital administration should have been doing a lot more than they were," Madeline said. "They were more concerned about keeping the incidents out of the news than they were about catching the rapist. Dr. Hodges was convinced that the rapist was part of the hospital community."
"Did he have anybody specific in mind?"
"He indicated that he did," Madeline said. "But he didn't tell me who."
"Do you think he might have told his wife?" Calhoun asked.
"It's possible," Madeline said.
"Do you think he ever said anything to the person he suspected?" Calhoun asked.
"I haven't the slightest idea," Madeline said. "But I do know that he planned to discuss the problem with Wayne Robertson even though he and Wayne did not get along. In fact, he'd planned to go see Robertson the day he disappeared."
"Did he go?" Calhoun asked.
"No," Madeline said. "That same day Dr. Hodges learned that Clark Davenport had died. Instead of seeing Robertson, Dr. Hodges had me make a lunch date for him with Dr. Barry Holster, the radiotherapist. The reason I remembered Clark Davenport's name was because I remember making the lunch arrangements."
"Why was Hodges so eager to see Dr. Holster?" Calhoun asked.
"Dr. Holster had recently finished treating Clark Davenport," Madeline said.
Calhoun put down his coffee cup and stood up. "You've been wonderfully cooperative and most gracious," he said. "I'm appreciative of both your coffee and your excellent memory."
Madeline Gannon blushed.
Angela had finished her work and was leafing through a laboratory journal just prior to her lunch break when the chief medical examiner called.
"I'm glad I caught you," Walt said.
"Why?" Angela asked.
"Something extraordinary has happened," Walt said. "And you are responsible."
"Tell me," Angela said.
"It's all because of your surprise visit yesterday," Walt said. "Would you be able to jump in your car and come up here?"
"When?"
"Right now," Walt said.
Angela was intrigued. "Can you give me an idea of what this is about?" she asked.
"I'd rather show you," he said. "It's really unique. I'll have to write this up or at least present it at the annual forensic dinner. I want you to be in on it right away. Consider it part of your education."
"I'd love to come," Angela said. "But I'm worried about Dr. Wadley. We've not been on the best of terms."
"Oh, forget Wadley," Walt said. "I'll give him a call. This is important."
"You're making it hard to refuse," Angela said.
"That's the whole idea," Walt said.
Angela grabbed her coat. On her way out she glanced into Wadley's office. He wasn't there. She asked the secretaries where he was. They told her that he'd gone to the Iron Horse Inn for lunch and wouldn't be back until two.
She asked Paul Darnell to cover for her again in case there was any type of emergency. She told him that she'd gotten a specific request from the chief medical examiner to come to see something extraordinary.
Before she left for Burlington, Angela dashed up to the ICU to check on Nikki. She was pleased to discover that her daughter was doing much better and was in fine spirits.
Angela made it to the chief medical examiner's office in record time. "Wow!" Walt said when she appeared at his office door. He glanced at his watch as he stood to greet her. "That was fast. What kind of a sports car do you drive?"
"I have to admit your call whetted my curiosity. I was eager to get here," Angela said. "And to tell you the truth, I haven't much time."
"We won't need much time," Walt said. He led her to a microscope set up on a workbench. "First, I want you to look at this," he said.
Angela adjusted the eyepieces and looked in. She saw a specimen of skin. Then she saw black dots in the dermis.
"Do you know what that is?" Walt asked.
"I think so," Angela said. "This must be the skin from under Hodges' nails."
"Precisely," Walt said. "See the carbon?"
"I do," Angela said.
"All right. Take a look at this."
Angela lifted her eyes from the microscope and accepted a photograph from Walt.
"This is a photomicrograph I obtained with a scanning electron microscope," Walt explained. "Notice that the dots don't look like carbon any longer."
Angela studied the photo. What Walt was saying was true.
"Now look at this," Walt said. He handed her a printout. "This is the output of an atomic spectrophotometer. What I did was elute the granules with an acid solvent and then analyze them. They aren't carbon."
"What are they?" Angela asked.
"They're a mixture of chromium, cobalt, cadmium, and mercury," Walt said triumphantly.
"That's wonderful, Walt," Angela said. She was completely baffled. "But what does it mean?"
"I was just as perplexed as you," Walt said. "I had no idea what it meant. I even started to think that the atomic spectrophotometer had gone on the fritz until I suddenly had an epiphany. It's part of a tattoo!"
"Are you sure?" Angela questioned.
"Absolutely," Walt said. "These pigments are used for tattooing."
Angela immediately shared Walt's excitement. With the power of forensics they'd made a discovery about the killer. He had a tattoo. She couldn't wait to tell David and Calhoun.
Returning to Bartlet, Angela ran into Paul Darnell. He'd been waiting for her.
"I got some bad news," Darnell said. "Wadley knows you left town and he's not happy about it."
"How could he know?" Angela asked. Darnell was the only person she'd told.
"I think he was spying on you," Darnell said. "That's the only explanation I can think of. He came in to see me fifteen minutes after you left."