Proof (17 page)
“S
O ARE WE GOING
to play this good cop, bad cop?” Brett asked as Nathan returned to the monitoring room.
“Absolutely not. We’re going to play this bad cop and on-the-verge-of-homicidal-maniac cop. You get to play bad cop.”
“But you know I love the maniacal, homicidal role better.”
“Let’s just do it cleanly. The last thing we need is this guy on the streets because we screw up. Lilly is convinced that her suicidal patient was one of his victims.”
“Just that we’ll never be able to prove it.” Brett laid his hand on the two-way glass and drummed his fingers.
Nathan leaned into the wall. “If Lilly’s right, don’t you think it’s odd to have so many pregnant victims? I mean: Torrence, Lilly, this patient—three altogether.”
“Does seem high.”
“So either he has intimate knowledge of these women and their cycles, which would be feasible being an OB, or he is victimizing a lot more women than we know about.”
“Not good options, either way. A doctor in betrayal of the public trust or one of the worst serial rapists this department’s encountered.” Brett slapped the glass. “Since he’s not under arrest, I didn’t Mirandize him. I did ask if he wanted to call anyone, and he refused.”
“No request for a lawyer?”
“None.”
“Well, let’s see what Dr. Maguire has to say about this whole situation.”
Nathan allowed Brett to enter the room first. Brett took the single chair in front of Drake as Nathan hovered in the corner, searching the doctor’s physical features for anything that would betray the evil within him. The diatribe of tall, dark, and handsome fit him to a tee. His hair was dark chocolate. The eyes off-putting at first: one blue, one brown. But the longer you looked, the more intriguing they seemed. The gym might be his second home as he was physically strong, well defined, and his posture expressed confidence. He was well groomed, and taking into account the earlier incident, he was dressed decently and had smoothed down his hair during his wait. Being a doctor, Drake made more money than Nathan did, which usually made up for every other shortcoming a woman might find fault with. He couldn’t fathom Drake having difficulty getting a date.
But then rape was never really about that anyway.
Yet, he’s chosen this path, and I have to figure out why so I can keep him from doing it again.
“Dr. Maguire. How are you doing? Is there anything we can get for you?” Brett offered. Nathan popped an antacid to keep the bile in his throat at bay.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
“I want to reiterate that you’re not under arrest, though there are some questions we’d like to go over with you. The more information we have, the more easily we can clear up this little misunderstanding you have with Dr. Reeves.”
“That’s trite. She accused me of raping her in front of the whole ER staff.”
“As I said, the more we know, the easier it will be to clear your name.”
“Did you charge her?”
“Dr. Reeves has been served a summons, and she was released. That’s common in an assault case such as yours.”
“Good, then I don’t see any other reason for me to be here. It’s clear I didn’t harm her in any way.”
“Not today at least,” Nathan said from his position in the corner.
“Not at any time.” Maguire sat taller in his chair, glaring at Nathan. He folded his arms in defiance. Nathan had seen thousands of these attempts to establish superiority. The chess game had begun, and it was going to go quick. Nathan had struck early.
“I know women like Dr. Reeves can sometimes say things when they’re confused, so any information you can provide will help us get you out of here,” Brett offered. Drake seemed to consider his options. “We will videotape this, but again, you’re not under arrest. Answer a few questions for us, and you’ll be out of here.”
“Whatever, let’s just get on with it.”
“How do you know Dr. Reeves?”
“She’s an ER physician, and we work together occasionally. I don’t know her personally.”
“How often do you see her?”
“Only when she calls us on consults.”
“Ever see her outside the hospital?”
“No.”
“Never? Not even on the sly? Maybe pass her by in the cafeteria? The grocery store?”
“Not that I remember.”
“So, you and Lilly never dated?”
“Never.”
“Why do you think she would accuse you of raping her? I mean, a man she’s merely an acquaintance with?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask her.”
“What’s your theory, Doctor?” Nathan asked, stepping closer to the table. “You must have some thoughts as to why she would do this.” Nathan knew posing a challenge to an intellectual would force him to say something. Drake wouldn’t play dumb. It would be too self-degrading.
“There have been rumors,” Drake offered.
“Of what?”
“Of the fact that she’s not necessarily the most stable personality.”
“In what way?” Nathan pulled up an extra chair and took a seat.
“That she’s been drinking, missing work.”
“Why would you care about hospital gossip? Aren’t you in nearly different worlds? How would you know that unless you were keeping tabs on her?” Nathan pressed.
“It came to mind after she right-hooked me in the ER.”
“This is confusing to me. Initially, she was trying to help you. Correct?” Brett asked.
“If that’s what you want to call laying me out with a punch to the jaw.”
“No,” Nathan corrected, jamming his index finger into the table, “According to Lilly, you had that girl’s blood in your eyes and she was trying to get it out. Can’t you catch some pretty nasty diseases from an exposure like that?”
“Yes, disease can be transmitted that way.”
“So, she was trying to help you.”
“Whatever you want to think.”
Brett leaned back, letting Nathan take the lead.
“Drake, did you have blood in your eyes from that patient?”
“Yes, but what does it matter?”
“This is where my confusion lies. Why would she initially be trying to help you, then suddenly, on the turn of a dime, have enough anger within her to punch you in the face?”
“Like I said, rumors have it that she’s not stable.”
“Lilly says while she was washing your eyes, your contacts fell out and she saw that your eyes were different colors. That’s one of the identifying marks of her rapist, an assault she reported to us several months ago.”
“I’m not the only man with eyes like this.”
“No, but you’re the first one I’ve ever seen. Must be pretty rare,” Brett said.
“I don’t know the statistics.”
“Why are they different colors?” Nathan asked.
“I don’t know. I was born with them this way.”
“But you’re not curious as to why? Being a doctor and all, you must have at least a few educated guesses,” Brett followed.
“It is what it is.”
Brett stood from the table, taking a position off to the side. Nathan inched closer to Drake. He was always drawing closer. His goal was to be inside Drake’s personal space, but he had to get there without him noticing, slowly over time. Move the chair an inch closer as you pretend to adjust your own position. Lean in and lean out, but lean in more and scoot forward just a bit. Subconsciously, Drake was backing up, trying to get away from the invasion of his personal sphere. There was little room for retreat in these interview rooms. Brett had already seated Drake in the back corner, opposite the door and the camera. None of this was by accident.
“Why do you hide them?” Nathan leaned in, making it appear that he wanted a closer look, but nudging forward to close in farther.
“What do you mean?”
“Why do you wear the colored contacts to hide them?”
“Every day I work with anxious, pregnant women. I got tired of repeating myself all the time because they were looking at my eyes and not hearing what I was saying.”
“So initially, you didn’t wear the contacts.”
“I can’t remember when I started wearing them.”
“Since you were a teenager?”
“No, it hasn’t been that long.”
There was a faint knock on the door, Nathan turned to see Brett step out.
“Where did you grow up?”
“That seems to be going a long way back for the incident today.”
“The more we know about you, the more we’ll know that you couldn’t possibly have done what Dr. Reeves says.”
Maguire scratched his arms before continuing on. “A small town outside of Las Vegas.”
“Did you go to school there?”
“Yes.”
“Public? Private?”
“Public.”
“You have parents?”
“Obviously.”
“Still living?”
“My mother, yes. My father, I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you tell me about that.”
He sighed. “It wasn’t a great childhood. My mother ran my father off when I was little.”
“Explain that more. What was going on in the house?”
“She was yelling all the time. Nothing was ever good enough for her. Everything had its place, its order. My father never earned enough money even though he worked all the time.”
“How old were you when he left?”
“Little … three, maybe four.”
“Do you know where he is now?
“I have no idea.”
“Are you still in touch with your mother?”
“She comes here to visit every now and then.”
“When was the last time she was here?” Nathan asked.
“Honestly, I can’t remember.”
“Any siblings?”
“I have one brother.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“The only family you keep in touch with is your mother.”
A low, faint hum sounded. “Essentially.” Maguire looked down and glanced at his pager. “It’s the hospital. I’ll have to call in.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes.”
Nathan stepped out and paced in front of the two-way glass like a caged tiger wanting to devour the visitors on the other side. Brett approached him, a piece of paper secured in his hand. “We have the warrant to obtain DNA samples. Crime lab guy is on his way over.”
“I want you to call the OB unit. See who’s covering for him. I don’t want him to say he has to leave to take care of a patient.” Brett did as he was asked. Nathan continued his observation. Drake seemed calm and relaxed on the phone, unflustered to be sitting in a police interview room on suspicion of rape.
He has no concern about any of this
.
“They say Kadin Daughtry is covering. He’s actually there now.”
“Good,” Nathan nodded, seeing Drake put his cell down. “Let me continue on my own. I know where I left off.”
Brett acquiesced, and Nathan stepped in. “Everything all right?” He closed the door behind him.
“Fine. How much longer are we going to be?”
“All depends on you. Let’s wrap up these questions, and we’ll see about getting you on your way. Why did you decide to become a doctor?”
“To help people.”
Nathan frowned. “You don’t seem to like women very much.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because you referred to your patients as anxious pregnant women. That’s derogatory.”
“For one, that’s a professional observation. Secondly, you can ask any OB to verify what I said.”
“What are some of your hobbies?”
“I don’t really have much extra time.”
“So you never have any fun? What do you do to relax? I’m sure the demands of your job can be stressful.”
“I don’t see how this has any bearing on why I’m here.”
“Then let’s move on. I was curious about your tattoo. When did you get it?”
“It’s been several years.”
“Was it here in Colorado?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the story behind it?”
“Story?”
“Tattoos are symbols for many people. They represent something. I was curious as to what it meant for you. It’s pretty dramatic. I mean a beast with three heads.”
“It’s a hybrid of many of the animals I admire.”
“What do you admire about the serpent?”
“Excuse me?”
“Isn’t that one of the components? A serpent? They don’t exactly have a warm, fluffy reputation.”
“Why are you so interested?”
“Your tattoo also happens to be an identifying characteristic of the man who assaulted Dr. Reeves and several other women.”
“I’m sure I’m not the only one who has this design.”
“That’s likely true. However, how many men do you think there are with that tattoo and your distinctive eye characteristics?”
“I think with the advent of color contacts, the possibilities are endless.”
“I see. Then you won’t have any problem supplying me with the name of the parlor where you got that tattoo.”
“Not at all. I’ll have to check my records.”
“Tell me about ketamine.”
“What about it?”
“Do you have access to it?”
“All of the physicians at the hospital can get it.”
“Including a podiatrist?”
Drake swept his hair from his eyes. “Most have access to it.”
“Do you use it much in your practice?”
“It has limited benefits in obstetrics because of its normal side effects. We generally don’t like pregnant women to have increased heart rates and high blood pressure. I’ve personally never used it.”
“Is it secured in your area?”
“I don’t know. I’d ask anesthesia.”
Nathan felt his BlackBerry vibrate. He viewed the text. Brett was ready with CSI. Ignoring it for the moment, he placed a manila folder on the table and pulled out four pictures, placing them in a neat row in front of Dr. Maguire.
“Do you recognize any of these women?”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
“Please, just look at the photos.”
Drake took a cursory glance before he settled back into his chair. “None of them are familiar to me.”
Nathan pointed to Torrence’s photo. “This woman was a patient at the hospital where you worked. You don’t remember ever seeing her?”
“No, I don’t.”
“How about this woman?” Nathan slid Celia’s pictures forward. “It seems you brought your mother’s vehicle into the garage where she works after a minor fender bender.”
“I don’t remember ever meeting her.”
Nathan gathered up the pictures and placed them back in the folder. He pulled out a sheet of paper with some annotated dates. “I want you to take this piece of paper with you when you leave. These are dates that I’m going to need an account of your whereabouts for. I’ll also need a list of people that can verify your statements as to where you were on these dates.”