Their relievers are pathetic, he said emphatically.
He was midway through listing the earned-run averages of the team's relief pitchers when the door opened. He stopped arguing long enough to press his gun against the orderly's stomach.
One word and I will kill you. Lead us to Dr. Cardoni's room.
The orderly's eyes widened. He turned without speaking and started down the corridor. He was so frightened that the pfft made by Timoshenko's silenced pistol did not register. Timoshenko closed the door to the ward, locked it and followed Novikov and the orderly. On the other side of the door, blood from a fatal head wound spread over the surface of the guard's desk.
Timoshenko and Novikov were Russians who lived in Seattle. Martin Breach had used their talents before for special jobs. The previous evening they had met Art Prochaska in a video arcade in Vancouver, Washington. Prochaska had paid them $25,000 and promised another $25,000 if they delivered Vincent Cardoni to Breach alive and relatively unharmed. He had given the Russians a floor plan of the hospital and a detailed diagram of the secured ward. An elevator inside the ward was used to move prisoners. An ambulance driven by another Russian was parked outside a ground-floor door of the hospital. All Novikov and Timoshenko had to do was gain access to Cardoni's room, sedate him and take him down the elevator. Breach did not care how they accomplished their task as long as they delivered their package.
The policeman who was sitting outside Cardoni's room was surprised to see two doctors following the orderly down the corridor. He knew the schedule by heart, and no one was supposed to be examining the prisoner at two o' clock in the morning. The officer stood and took one step forward before Timoshenko shot him in the forehead. Blood from the exit wound splattered across the window in the door to Cardoni's room. The orderly made a half turn, but he was dead before he could complete it. It was always best to leave no witnesses.
Novikov took the orderly's keys and opened the door. He put his pistol in the pocket of his white coat and withdrew a syringe. The room was dark, but Novikov could make out a large shape under a blanket and sheet. He moved quietly, not wanting to wake Cardoni. Prochaska had made it clear that there would be no more money if Cardoni was killed or badly injured, and Novikov did not want to have to explain failure to Martin Breach.
Cardoni's blanket covered him from head to toe. Novikov was standing over the bed before he could make out the top of the surgeon's head in the darkened room. The Russian pulled the covers back slowly. He was leaning down to inject Cardoni when the surgeon plunged a bedspring through Novikov's ear and into his brain. It was the same bedspring he had broken off from the underside of his bed and spent hours straightening and sharpening in the dark while planning his escape. The hypodermic fell to the floor and shattered. Cardoni propped up the Russian, who twitched for a moment before becoming limp.
Timoshenko glanced down the hall, then looked through the window to see how his partner was doing. Novikov's body was bent forward, shielding Cardoni from Timoshenko, whose view was partially obscured by the blood that had spattered across the window in the steel door. Cardoni slid out from under his attacker and lowered Novikov's body onto the bed. He found the Russian's weapon while Timoshenko was figuring out that something unplanned had occurred in the darkened room. Cardoni shot the Russian while he was charging through the door.
When Cardoni was certain that his assailants were dead, the surgeon stripped Novikov, who was closest to his size and whose clothes were unstained by blood. In a few minutes Cardoni was dressed in street clothes covered by a doctor's white coat. A stethoscope was draped around his neck. He took the elevator to the ground floor and walked out of St. Francis Medical Center.
Sean McCarthy's call awakened Mike Greene from a deep sleep at five-thirty. He had been bleary-eyed when he picked up the receiver, but the news of Cardoni's escape acted like a double shot of espresso. Greene was so distracted that he recalled little of the drive through the darkened streets of Portland. The first thing that did make an impression was the large bloodstain that covered the desk outside the secured ward. He shivered involuntarily as he walked through the law enforcement personnel who jammed the corridor outside Cardoni's room.
Sean McCarthy was talking to a fingerprint expert. A policeman and a man in an orderly's clothes lay on the green linoleum floor in pools of blood a few feet from the detective. Greene smelled the dead men before he saw them. He looked up so that the bodies were only in his peripheral vision.
As soon as he spotted the deputy district attorney, McCarthy walked to meet him.
Let's get out of here, McCarthy said. I need some coffee.
How did he get away? Greene asked as soon as they were in the elevator.
We're not sure yet. We found five bodies. We've identified three of them: the orderly who mans the desk in front of the elevator and the policeman and orderly who were found outside Cardoni's room. Here's where it gets weird. There are two dead men in Cardoni's room. One man was shot as he came through the door. He was dressed like a doctor, but he was holding a pistol with a silencer. The techs think it's the weapon that was used to kill the cop and the two orderlies.
The second man was killed with a sharpened bedspring. Cardoni worked it off the bottom of his bed. The second man is only wearing underwear, and we found Cardoni's hospital gown on the floor. We assume Cardoni's wearing the dead man's clothing.
Was the guy a doctor?
We don't know, but no doctors were scheduled to visit Cardoni and no one from St. Francis has been able to identify either man.
The elevator doors opened. McCarthy bought two coffees from a vending machine while Greene took a table in the deserted cafeteria.
One interesting thing, McCarthy told the DA after taking a sip from his cup. Cardoni had a visitor yesterday afternoon, Amanda Jaffe.
What was she doing with Cardoni?
Her firm represented him when he was charged in Milton County. Maybe he wants her to continue the representation.
There's no way the Jaffes could do that, Mike said. She's a witness, and he murdered one of the firm's clients. There's a clear conflict. Have you talked to her?
I phoned her apartment, but her answering machine was on.
Have someone go there. It's a long shot, but Cardoni may have said something to Amanda that will give us a clue to where he's gone.
Before McCarthy could answer, McCarthy's partner, Alex DeVore, walked into the cafeteria.
We've got an ID on the two men in Cardoni's room, he said. Dimitri Novikov and Igor Timoshenko, Russian Mafia from Seattle.
What were they doing down here? McCarthy asked.
Remember the Colombians who tried to move in on Martin Breach two years ago?
I still have trouble eating when I think about the crime scene, Greene answered.
The word is that Novikov was in on that.
So you think Breach brought in out-of-town talent to do Cardoni?
Breach never forgives and he never forgets, McCarthy answered.
Mike Greene's pager started to beep. He took a look at the number on the screen, then pulled out a cell phone and dialed immediately.
Amanda? It's Mike.
We've got to talk.
She sounded upset, almost near tears.
I can't right now. I' m at St. Francis. Cardoni's escaped.
What! How?
We're not really certain.
We still have to talk. Please. What I have to say may be more important than the escape.
I find that hard to believe.
There's a possibility that Vincent Cardoni is innocent.
Come on, Amanda. Cardoni murdered Justine Castle almost under your nose. We've got five dead men here. The man is a homicidal maniac.
Listen to me closely, Mike. Before a patient has surgery the hospital draws a blood sample. You have to find out if there was any trace of sedatives, anesthetic or tranquilizers in Cardoni's sample. If his blood wasn't tested for those substances, I want you to run one and tell me the results. If the test results are what I think they'll be, you'll change your opinion.