The Rape of Sister Ruth

By George Barclay Jr.

Estelle Carville, ER nurse at Del Arroyo, is raped, sodomized, murdered, dumped, and found rotting in the woods by two winos. Unsuspecting, Ruth Sanchez, divorced and mother of two, is hired to take Estelle's job and subsequently is raped and sodomized in the third floor parking garage of Del Arroyo Hospital Determined to keep her job, Ruth borrows a small pistol, and on his second try, she wounds the same guy, who is arrested and charged with murder, assault, rape, and sodomy. A trial ensues.

A Cosmological accident causes the entire northern hemisphere to enter a new ice age, and Houston experiences fifty one days of continuous freeze followed by thaw and floods. Martial law is declared, and the military takes over. Bubonic Plague, Ebola, and Typhus ravage Houston, and a death ship is towed out to sea. Hospitals are quarantined, and Army Triage separates out the dying and dead who are promptly cremated. Thaw and floods bring Cholera, dysentery, and death, and 30,000 drown when Lakes-Conroe and Houston dams break. Terrorist blow up the Astrodome and ICU at Del Arroyo.

Ruth has adult affairs with Rueben and Harvey and falls in love with Olinda. She moves in with Harvey at the old Cushing mansion in River Oaks and finds it haunted with skeletons, pickled brains, walking ghosts and an ever beating heart that gets louder and louder until it stops and starts over again.

WARNING: Violence, profanity, and erotica. Okay for Dummies.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Apr 14, 2008
• ISBN: 9780595616244

George Barclay Jr.

Dr. Barclay is a retired cardiologist, who lives with wife Chloeteele on a farm near Woodville, Texas. Prior to thirty years of medical practice, he worked as oilfield roustabout, chemical engineer, and active duty soldier.

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Copyright © 2008 by George Barclay Jr.

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Printed in the United States of America

Contents

C H A P T E R 2

C H A P T E R 3

C H A P T E R 4

C H A P T E R 5

C H A P T E R 6

C H A P T E R 7

C H A P T E R 8

C H A P T E R 9

C H A P T E R 10

C H A P T E R 11

C H A P T E R 12

C H A P T E R 13

C H A P T E R 14

C H A P T E R 15

C H A P T E R 16

C H A P T E R 17

C H A P T E R 18

C H A P T E R 19

C H A P T E R 20

C H A P T E R 21

C H A P T E R 22

C H A P T E R 23

C H A P T E R 24

C H A P T E R 25

C H A P T E R 26

C H A P T E R 27

C H A P T E R 28

C H A P T E R 29

C H A P T E R 30

C H A P T E R 31

C H A P T E R 32

C H A P T E R 33

C H A P T E R 34

C H A P T E R 35

C H A P T E R 36

C H A P T E R 37

C H A P T E R 38

C H A P T E R 39

C H A P T E R 40

C H A P T E R 41

C H A P T E R 42

C H A P T E R 43

C H A P T E R 44

C H A P T E R 45

C H A P T E R 46

C H A P T E R 47

C H A P T E R 48

C H A P T E R 49

C H A P T E R 50

C H A P T E R 51

C H A P T E R 52

C H A P T E R 53

C H A P T E R 54

C H A P T E R 55

C H A P T E R 56

C H A P T E R 57

C H A P T E R 58

C H A P T E R 59

C H A P T E R 60

C H A P T E R 1

When Sandra got to the office, Evita Garza, and Rene’ Lopez were sitting in her waiting room, and there was a frown note on her desk to call Dr. Nu at the morgue. She dialed and identified herself.

Recognized your voice, Sandra. Got bad news and good news. He was talking with a pipe in his mouth. Give me the good news first.

Your client, Lupe Lopez, may get off with just aggravated assault with a deadly weapon and multiple lesser charges. If I were you, I’d plea bargain and ship him back to old Mexico. He waited for her comment. What’s the bad news?

First, Juan Baptista in the ICU at Del Arroyo Clinic was flown by helicopter to San Diego General in Matamoros at 2 AM this morning with no return ordered. Booker called San Diego around noon, and they never heard of Juan Baptista and had no record of a helicopter flight from Del Arroyo. He’s asked the INS, CIA, and FBI to locate Juan Baptista and bring him back. Who ordered the transfer?

"Dr. Guadalupe Alvarez, and he’s dead. Shot in the head with a 9mm and

silencer while starting his car in the hospital parking lot at Del Arroyo this morning."

Okay, anything else? You’ve ruined my day. Jésus has disappeared!

What are you talking about? You’re putting me on! Sandra glanced at her watch. It was nearly three.

We can’t find Jésus Posadas’ body. It’s been stolen, and all we have are blood tests and a positive serology. Lieutenant Costello did not find a wallet on him, and none of a hundred witnesses will sign that they knew him or saw him get shot. Even his wife refused to come forward. They were separated, and she was in Matamoros at the time. That’s all for now. Maybe a funeral home picked him up. We’ll keep looking.

Betty walked in with one message and two call backs.

Sergeant Booker Washington, Homicide, left a message that Juan Baptista had been flown by helicopter to Matamoros at 2 AM and was lost to follow up. He reported it to INS, CIA, DEA, and FBI, and they promised to help. Dr. Guadalupe Alvarez, the referring physician, was murdered at 6 AM, and Dr. Nu had the body. No murder suspect, but probably drug related.

Bill Riley’s secretary, Eloise Johnson, had requested an immediate call back, and Ruth Sanchez, Sandra’s older sister, requested call at Sandra’s earliest convenience.

Bill Riley DA picked up on Sandra’s call. I guess you know about Baptista being transferred to Matamoros and Alvarez’s murder?

I saw the body earlier, and Dr. Nu gave me the details. They lost Jésus Posadas’ body. Where does that leave my client, Lupe Lopez? No body, no murder! Right?

They’ll find witnesses. Everybody knew Jésus. They are just afraid to come forward. Don’t rush me. By-the-way, Jack Strongbach passed his lie detector, normal as hell, so I dropped charges and sent him back to work, a free man.

"What about the formal requests for extradition on Lupe and Guiana Hun-

V gun?

Please get off it, Sandra. You can’t push the law! No word from the Attorney General. Amusing story! Canada has contacted a private penal outfit in Houston and requested Texas house and guard some of their most dangerous lifers and serial killers in a private maximum security unit near Liberty, Texas.

There’s no maximum security unit at Liberty. They meant Livingston.

No! They want to build it and pay Texas for housing and guarding their most psychopathic killers and crazies. It may go through. Actually, Mexico is cheaper, but all they feed is frijoles and tortillas.

Well, Liberty needs the business! What about the hearing aids on Jack Strongbach?

We let him keep ‘em in. Otherwise he couldn’t hear the questions. You going to the dance at the school Saturday night?

Yes! I’m the guest ofDr. Winston Blood, and we’ll be seated at Maria’s table. How about you?

Bette and I will be at Misty’s table. You don’t have to go armed, Sandra. The sheriff will have six deputies out there.

Are you going armed?

Yes! I have another call.

Bill clicked off, and Sandra dialed Ruth, who was pushing forty, but looked younger despite sixteen years of marriage and two teenagers. Her husband, Dr. Reuben Sanchez, was a distinguished Clinical Professor of cardiovascular surgery. Sandra envied her wonderful good fortune and marriage.

Betty ushered in Evita Garza and put her chart in front of Sandra. Evita lit up, picked up the PRESS, and waited for Sandra to finish her calls.

Ruth answered, sobbing. Sandra identified herself and waited.

Sandra, I’m divorced! I just didn’t think he’d go through with it. Mother’s got the kids, and they’re okay. May I move in with you for a few days? I start a new job tomorrow.

Did you keep Sanchez? I mean your married name? I need to call my maid service.

Why, yes! Those are his kids. She sobbed again.

How much stuff you got?

Just my clothes and personal things. He and his girlfriend are moving in tonight. She’s two months pregnant.

What’s her name? For goodness sake!

Tricia. That’s all I know. She’s a foreign resident from somewhere. Colombia, I think. Tricia Garza!

I’ll call my maid service, and they’ll let you in. Use my spare bedroom.

When Sandra put down the phone, she dialed her high-rise and made arrangements for them to help Ruth move in and give her a key. Evita had stopped reading the paper and seemed interested in Sandra’s phone conversation. Sandra turned to Evita.

Sorry! Little domestic problem. My sister’s just had her first divorce. Sixteen years! I have a new roommate.

Evita smiled politely. Her ‘ex’ named Reuben Sanchez, the heart surgeon?

Why, yes! How did you know?

Tricia Garza is my baby sister. She’s a radiology resident on visa and three months pregnant. She has to wear two lead aprons.

Evita, I have what you may interpret as good news. The morgue lost Jésus Posadas’ body, and no eyewitness will volunteer to identify Lupe as the shooter or Jésus as the victim. In short, the only thing the police have are illegal entry and crashing the road block, so far. This thing’s going to drag on, but extradition at least seems possible.

Jésus Posadas is missing from the morgue?

They just misplaced his body. I guess somebody could have stolen it, but who? asked Sandra.

The cops, replied Evita. Crooked stinking cops! Same in Colombia. * * * *

Betty ushered in Maria Galbreaux, Sandra’s boss and richest client. Maria handed Sandra a manila envelope, sealed. Keep this in your files. It’s a copy of my gynecologist’s records and the DNA on Marci and me. She was conceived by spontaneous parthenogenesis. Maria took one of Sandra’s cigarettes, packed it on her thumbnail and lit up using Sandra’s desk lighter. She had to strike it twice. She inhaled deeply, leaned back, and blew smoke.

"Love ‘em! You need some more fluid in that lighter. I’ll come right to the point. I need to take Derek with me to Rome and Sicily. It’ll be crowded with backpackers and tourist, and we’ll be in harm’s way. I’ll have Misty instruct Derek. He’s been expecting the trip. Check with Sherry Deagio if you need to get

in touch. Derek will call, if we need you."

* * * *

Ruth, Sandra’s older sister, was standing in front of the full length mirror in Sandra’s spare bedroom, when Sandra walked in. She was standing tall, flattening her abdomen, and straightening out her skirt. Everything was new and white, from her starched cap down to her stockings and cushioned sole shoes. Ruth was always prettier, more popular, and smarter than Sandra. She looked like Angie Dickenson in Captain Newman MD. Good enough to eat, like fresh peach ice cream. She saw Sandra and smiled cheerfully.

How do I look?

Like peaches and cream! Like Angie Dickenson! Like, how in the hell do you do it? How many uniforms did you buy?

Three! I’ll have to change and launder every day. Do you mind my staying? I start to work at Del Arroyo in the ER at 3 PM tomorrow.

What did Rachel say? And Daddy?

"No problem! The kids seemed happy. Most of their friends already had stepfathers. I looked up the statistics. Most first marriages last eleven years. We beat

the average by five. So, changing husbands and changing jobs are just part of modernity, part of life.

* * * *

Sandra called lawyer Devine’ Sparks at 6 AM and asked her to meet her at the courthouse interrogation room at 8 AM and assist her on Lieutenant Costello’s case. She dressed, ate, and studied his Crime Scene report. Surely they would limit their internal investigation to his report.

Crime Report Case Number: 93-6-0056

W/M DOB: 2-14-1948

Time: around 0500 hrs

Houston Police Department

Offense: Homicide

Victim: Guadalupe Alvarez M.D.

Location: Del Arroyo Clinic, US 59

Doctors Parking Lot

Date: Tuesday, June 1, 1993

Means: Single GSW to left temple

Weapon: Handgun, 0.38 caliber,

estimated 8 feet (gun not found)

Details: Responding officer arrived at Del Arroyo Clinic, physicians parking lot at 0600 hours in response to police radio report of homicide. Answered call at 0605. Plastic gloves. Checked victim and controlled crowd. J.P. Xavier Vargus arrived 0615 and took control. Detective Sgt. Happy, NEP, arrived 0630. Patrolman Brice Redmon, NEP, arrived 0645. EMS arrived 0700 and removed body to morgue by orders Judge Vargus. No handgun or bullet found at scene. Sergeant Booker Washington and CSI arrived at 0700 to inspect automobile (‘92 green Buick LaSabre) No weapon found. Wife called 0630. Car-maleta Posadas called (sister-in-law). Turned over to Patrolman Brice Redmon at 0700. Removed plastic gloves.

Signature Lt. Hernan Costello

* * * *

Sandra took the circular drive around her parent’s home and parked near the back entrance. Across the way, her mother’s car was in the garage and her father’s gone. Her garage apartment looked lived in. Ruth’s sons Ricky, 16, and Stephan, 14, had moved in. A new basketball goal was up, and two bikes were under the stairway.

Sandra! The back door slammed, and her mother rushed out to hug her.

Mama, replied Sandra, returning her embrace.

They exchanged pleasantries. Rachel explained that Sandra’s father (John Henry) had taken the boys to ball practice. She invited Sandra in for coffee.

You quit using sugar?

I’m on a diet. My ballroom partner ordered me to lose ten pounds. We’re competing in the Labor Day ProAm out at SNU. You’ll have to come watch.

You’re not here on a casual visit! Ruth moved in with you yesterday. How are things going?

No problems, but she didn’t tell me her plans except that she was going back into nursing. I’m sorry to hear about their marriage and Dr. Sanchez’s unfortunate situation with the young lady radiologist. I believe her name is Tricia Garza.

We’ve met Tricia, and she seems shy but nice. The boys will adjust. They love the apartment, and our whole upstairs is for Ruth if she wants to move in. Your father and I are happy to have the boys.

C H A P T E R 2

Ruth arrived at the Del Arroyo ER at 2 PM, well ahead of report. She was instructed to go to the Administrator’s office to see a Dr. Capistrano, for orientation. The supervisor must have called him, because he was studying her newly made personnel jacket when she walked in and sat down before his desk. About fifty, Mexican American, his studied concern turned to a smile when he looked up and saw Ruth. He picked up his phone and asked his secretary to page the nursing supervisor. Ruth had worked as cardiovascular scrub nurse at the university medical center for ten years after she graduated from the university nursing school. They chatted. He knew Dr. Sanchez, her ex-husband, and her university work record was outstanding.

Dr. Capistrano instructed Mrs. Gomez, a matronly sixtiesh, to let Ruth sit in on her department and supervisors’ report and then at their mutual convenience take her on tour of the hospital. He turned to Ruth.

I realize this is your first day, but I plan to put you on a career path, a month in ER, two months in ICU, and then instrument nurse in Cardiovascular Surgery. That’s where your skills are, and, for a nurse, it’s big bucks and all the overtime you want.

* * * *

Ruth let herself in at twelve. Everything was quiet. She retraced her steps, closed the door quietly, and rang Kay Berkeley’s chimes. Kay answered and invited Ruth in.

"Move in tonight. I have two bedrooms just like Sandra. Sandra has a New Orleans boyfriend stay over almost every weekend. You get a better deal with me,

and you can have a man up if you like."

* * * *

Sandra visited Bill Riley DA at the courthouse.

Your client Hernan is in harm’s way. If we don’t jail him, some of that bunch will assassinate him. Bill didn’t smile.

What bunch? replied Sandra, smiling.

"Can’t tell you. Everybody over there on east side is suspect. Lynette kept a Rolodex. Baptista was the hub around which all spokes turned.

"Del Arroyo is in debt due to mismanagement, and they lost their hospital accreditation. I could go on and on.

Dr. Nu found meperidine in Alvarez’s blood. All doctors take dope, screw their nurse, and piss in the sink. Bill was upset.

How do you think it’s getting through? East side is just recovering from an acute contraband shortage. Maybe we ought to legalize dope like the repeal of prohibition, Sandra teased.

"I know how it’s getting through. Colombian smugglers are parked out there in International waters, and small craft go out to get it. Locally, Al Hawalla has trucks operated by illegal aliens and non English speaking Orientals who’ll work cheap. It’s stored locally and sold to dealers who sell it to entrepreneurs who sell it to street peddlers, mechanics, truck drivers, street gangs and such.

You want coke or crack? Go to Ruby’s close to the docks. Drive out to the black slums across the bayou from Azteca and Del Arroyo. We know all that. You have to catch them with the stuff, and it requires a search warrant signed by a judge within twenty-four hours of the search. That means the news leaks out. The crooked cops warn the dealers, and when we make the bust either the dope is gone or the perps or both. Sometimes we get lucky. The DPS only gets ten percent. We can beat that. I’ve planted an informer. She’s a civilian. That’s all I’ll tell.

* * * *

Sandra checked with her office and had a new client, Dr. Raul Capistrano, at four and no others. She drove up on US 610 then off at Westheimer, left at River Oaks Boulevard, and slowed as she passed the tennis courts of the Country Club.

She thought she saw Misty Tantalia playing a smashing game of tennis with whom she suspected was the female tennis pro just by the way they were playing. She made a mental note, drove around her parent’s mansion and pulled into her usual spot adjacent to the back porch and across the drive from her old garage apartment. Her nephews, Ruth’s boys, had put up a volleyball net out on the lawn where they were paired off with two blondes with dark skin, who from about thirty yards looked like twins. The girls wore braces, halters and short shorts. The boys, both tall, were in jeans and were barefoot. Four bicycles were parked under the stairway. Sandra called out and waved causing one to take his eye off the volleyball and missing a return. They all collapsed in laughter on the grass, and Ruth’s oldest son returned her wave.

Rachel, her mother, called out, You want to eat?

What are those two serious athletes ofRuth’s doing playing with girls? Her mother was slicing chicken salad sandwiches and had a pitcher of lemonade, obviously prepared for the boys and their guests. Sandra got a saucer and helped herself. Sandra couldn’t remember the crazy, sweet-torture of her post pubertal teens, boys, braces, masturbation, slumber parties, and all, etc.

I had to make your nephews go upstairs and put on blue jeans. Those swim suits men wear now days don’t conceal erections, and it embarrassed me.

Did the girls notice?

Hah! They’re fifteen and on the pill. They don’t have hang ups like we did. It may be healthy. Who knows?

What are their names?

"Capistrano! Their dad’s a local, lives in River Oaks somewhere. They’re

Catholic, Rosary beads, and all."

* * * *

Sandra walked around the club to the tennis courts where Misty and Ursla (Butch) Khabarovski, the lady tennis pro, had just finished and were drying off with towels. There was a man in a business suit sitting at Misty’s table with Suki Yamamoto, Misty’s personal secretary. Misty’s driver was leaning against the wall, waiting. Misty saw Sandra and walked over to talk with her. She whispered.

She got her marriage annulled, and Father Joseph can apply for reinstatement as soon as the Texas divorce is official. I have the papers at the house. You can follow me over. Have Devine’ file them with the domestic court. She’s going to see Dad and visit Mount Etna and will be back in a week.

Goodness, that’s seven days!

"Come on over to the table and meet Dr. Capistrano. He owes our bank lots of money and has an appointment to see you this afternoon. I made him. He has

his butt in a sling and is sweating a murder."

* * * *

Dr. Capistrano was a Dermatologist by training and Administrator of Del Arroyo Clinic and General Hospital. He was shaky, and Sandra expected a cooked up tale involving missing money from the hospital endowment fund and Dr. Alvarez’s death.

Our books are cooked. We run a chronic deficit and shift uncollectable Medicare funds to revenues and accounts receivable. We could have gone on forever, but our cash flow dropped with the Bush recession, and we missed a year’s quarterly payments on a billion dollar loan from El Cyuga Bank. Dr. Capistrano stopped.

Could El Cyuga foreclose and take over the administration of your hospital?

Misty could, but she doesn’t want the headaches and liability. She threatened to sue for recovery.

What did Misty suggest? I’m not a civil trial lawyer. I can hardly understand your accounting problems.

Oh, we use T.A. Galbreaux and Son as our accountants and Bean, Baggetti, and Quick as our lawyers. They’re behind us all the way. I never made a decision without checking with Mr. Manuel Alvarez with Bean, Baggetti, and Quick and Mr. Augustus Galbreaux, our CPA. They work for two of the oldest and most reputable firms in Houston.

Why did Misty refer you to me? I’m a criminal defense lawyer.

I need to talk to somebody. I won’t tell the police, because I’m scared of reprisals. Almost everything is drug related or family feuds in our area.

I’m ready to listen, commented Sandra.

My CFO and I used the bank loan to buy up properties and invest in the stock market. We anticipated paying it back from our profits. Everything went well until the stock market plunged, and my CFO unloaded near the bottom.

Are the properties paid off?"

My home in River Oaks is free of debt. The beach properties and my five homes in Vail are financed by long term loans from a New York bank conglomerate. They’ll be knocking on my door.

Who is your CFO, and what was your biggest stockholding?

Valentino Redfox, he has a BS from SNU, and a MBA from Boston Ivy. Our biggest holding was Azteca USA. We thought the end of the world was at hand. We panicked!

It’s all civil. I haven’t heard anything criminal.

I was standing at the window of my office and saw Guadalupe shot.

Sandra had to be skeptical. Why hadn’t he gone to the police? Did you tell Misty?

I hinted that I knew something, but I didn’t incriminate myself or confess. I don’t go anywhere now except to the hospital and home. I have a brother-in-law that’s a policeman, Downtown-Internal Affairs, and I surely wouldn’t tell him. I peek under every rock. I’m afraid somebody will shoot me next. Val and I are in deep do do. He’s going to blame it all on me, and I’m afraid of everybody.

What did you see? asked Sandra.

Dr. Alvarez got in his car wearing scrubs. A police car drove up. There was a flash but no sound. The shooter took something, maybe a box, out of Dr. Alvarez’s trunk and transferred it to the trunk of the police car and drove off. Later, I heard Lieutenant Costello found the body.

C H A P T E R 3

Valentino Redfox was a neatly dressed, prosperous, Spanish-American Indian-American. He looked worried out of proportion to Sandra’s understanding of Dr. Capistrano’s narrative. He was CFO of the Del Arroyo Clinic and General Hospital with revenues of $500,000,000 a year.

He had signed Sandra’s contract and paid her retainer. She expected omissions, half truths, misdirections, and sometimes intentional lies, even under oath. Studies showed that all witnesses lie and slant the truth. They exchanged pleasantries, and he pretty much confirmed what Dr. Capistrano said.

My boss, Dr. Capistrano told me to transfer uncollectibles to revenues to make them look bigger for the board. Also he told me to dump Azteca stock when the market plunged. I’m ready to swear with witnesses. I’m not going to lose myjob to cover his ass. I advised against both, and so did Gus Galbreaux. It was Dr. Capistrano and lawyer Manual Alvarez who got the idea, but they didn’t plan for the recession and market slump. Now we have El Cyuga bank threatening to sue because we didn’t pay a year’s quarterly notes and interest. The New York banks will foreclose on our properties.

That’s all civil. I’m criminal law, defense. Why did you come see me?

Because I think I may be an unsuspecting accomplice to Guadalupe’s murder. He waited. "It’s true I didn’t see anything, but I heard a lot. Most of the time Dr. Capistrano was on the telephone in his office, and I was just outside at his secretary’s desk trying to figure how we could get a bigger loan to make the payments on the other loans.

He raised his voice saying ‘no’ many times, but never a yes, and he dialed somebody and said, ‘The bastard has it. Check his trunk’.

To whom do you think he was talking?

He was saying no to Dr. Alvarez who consulted on patient Juan Posadas in ICU room 222.

With whom was the last person he talked?

Lieutenant Fox, downtown Internal Affairs.

How did you know?

I picked up and eavesdropped. I recognized Lieutenant Fox’s voice.

Why don’t you tell your story to Bill Riley DA? asked Sandra.

Because, somebody might kill me. I’m part Matigwa. They’re looking for the Buddha. It’s worth a fortune.

Who last had it?

Jésus Posadas, replied Val.

Dr. Reuben Sanchez was Sandra’s ex-brother-in-law. They’d seen each other briefly on holidays, but, since he was a busy cardiovascular surgeon and she a busy lawyer, she could not remember being alone with him or having an adult conversation above the level of social pleasantries. In other words, he was married to her sister for sixteen years, fathered two children by Ruth, but otherwise they had no more than a speaking acquaintance.

Most of the foreign born specialist in Houston were exceptional, otherwise they would have been weeded out during residency or gone back home to practice where modern facilities and technology were scarce and the opportunity for freedom and unlimited wealth nonexistent or highly improbable.

He paid her retainer and signed her contract and, as a consequence, made a greater claim on her than he would have ever gotten as Ruth’s husband.

Miss Lerner, I want to apologize for not having called you in advance of Ruth’s and my divorce. He looked apologetic, so he was in some kind of trouble, possibly with the law.

Dr. Sanchez, don’t apologize. Let me congratulate you for living with my sister sixteen years. I saw your boys, and they look plenty athletic and normal to me. They’re living in the same garage apartment that Ruth and I shared when we were their ages. Mother loves it! How is your new wife, Tricia? I must meet her. I’m still Aunt Sandra, and, Reuben, I’ll respond to any calls should you need me or just want to chat. I really don’t have a social circle outside my business and friends at the apartment high-rise where I live. You have to classify us in the business-professional-singles crowd. It’s sort of like universal relativity and uncertainty on a non cosmic scale. Sandra grinned and her eyes sparkled. For a moment a warmness of affection passed between them that neither had experienced during the sixteen years.

How may I help you?

I was a knowing and willing accomplice to a crime. I did not report Juan Baptista’s GSW to the police, and I specifically stated in my cardiovascular evaluation that he was admitted with multiple GSW requiring closed thoractomy and chest tube drainage, which I performed, and abdominal exploration and multiple bowel resection, which Dr. Guadalupe Alvarez performed. I put his correct name on my consultation report, not Juan Posadas, and my admitting diagnosis was circulatory shock secondary to multiple GSW. Dr. Alvarez personally saw him in the emergency room and called me to the operating room to put in the chest tube when they were draping the patient. His alleged hospital diagnoses were non traumatic spontaneous pneumothorax and perforated diverticulites with peritonitis. I advised Dr. Guadalupe Alvarez not to transfer the patient, because he was not stabilized, but Guadalupe did it against my advice. He sent everything along with Mr. Baptista, including the x-rays, which had not been seen by the radiologist, and my consultation.

Sandra interrupted. Did you dictate your consultation and operation report?

Dr. Sanchez opened his briefcase and handed Sandra the reports. Sandra glanced at them, had Betty make copies, and gave them back to him. I suggest you get them notarized by medical records and make enough copies for the police and you. I’ll keep copies in my safe. Remember what happened to Dr. Mudd when he patched up John Wilkes Booth?

I’m sorry? Dr. Sanchez didn’t know American history.

They hung him, replied Sandra, without smile.

Miss Lerner, Sandra, it was the nursing supervisor in the emergency room that should have called 911 and reported a GSW. That’s Texas law. It had to be deliberate omission. Doctor’s don’t report GSW. Nurses do. Dr. Alvarez covered up the GSW by not writing anything on the Emergency Admission report except pneumothorax and acute abdomen.

Did you ask the nurse about it?

She didn’t show up for work, and they hired Ruth to take her place.

Did Dr. Alvarez get in an argument with the hospital administrator over the helicopter transfer?

Yes! Dr. Capistrano said no, but Dr. Alvarez did it anyway. Three hours later somebody shot Guadalupe in the doctor’s parking lot.

Where were you?

I left right after I heard them arguing. There was nothing I could do. I was home in bed when Guadalupe was killed. Tricia will vouch for me.

Did you see Carmaleta Posadas at the hospital?

Yes, I talked with her several times about Juan Baptista. Ruth and I knew them socially before we split. Carmaleta didn’t work, and Ruth was a housewife. All I can tell you is they were close friends. Like most surgeons, I didn’t know what went on around my house.

Did Ruth do drugs? You’re divorced, so be candid. I’m your lawyer not your sister-in-law.

I never actually saw her. Never in public! I can’t vouch for her in private. Maybe she was exposed to the opportunity with the bridge, golf, and tennis crowd. She went to the country club often, almost every day. Juan Baptista did drugs, so I suppose Ruth and Carmaleta could have gotten some from him. I never had time to go down to West Beach. Maybe Ruth did. I just don’t know. We got a divorce, because I got Tricia pregnant, and Tricia was desperate. They were about to cancel her radiology fellowship. She has to wear two lead aprons now.

Reuben, think carefully, because the police will ask you the same questions. What did Dr. Alvarez do from the minute he transferred Juan Baptista at 2 AM until he was shot in the parking lot at 5 AM?

Of course, I don’t know for sure, but, if I had to bet, I’d say he found a couch, gurney, or bed somewhere and got some sleep, replied Reuben, smiling. It’s common.

Did Dr. Alvarez take sedatives or pain pills, especially sleeping pills?

You know all hospital based physicians have access to narcotics and sleeping pills. It goes with the trade.

Where do they get them? asked Sandra.

Pharmacy, nurses station, sample cabinet, and narcotics cabinet, if you have a nurse friend or have a key made to the narcotics cabinet. No problem! All the nursing supervisors and floor duty RNs have narcotics keys. Most just borrow the key and have a copy made. No big deal! Reuben shrugged.

Did Dr. Alvarez have a narcotics key?

It should have been on his key ring. Maybe he hid it in the hospital or put it in his locker in the surgical lounge. There’s a couch in there and a doctor’s slee-pover room with bunk beds in back, replied Reuben.

Where was the nearest meperidine, say, from the surgical lounge and the slee-pover bunks?

Just below in the ER. He joked and flirted a lot with the ER nurses, and he handled big trauma—car wrecks, gunshot wounds, and severe illnesses.

Wouldn’t the nurses inventory come up short of meperidine?

No! He’d just replace the meperidine with an equivalent volume of normal saline.

Do you think Dr. Alvarez went down to the ER, sneaked a vial of meperi-dine, replaced its volume with saline, gave himself a shot, took a quick nap and then left to drive home?

Miss Lerner, Sandra, why are you asking me these questions? They have nothing to do with me. You’re really asking questions about things that occur at many hospitals, not just Del Arroyo. I’m on several hospital staffs, Bayou Den General out on I-10, North Central out offI-45 and Cavalcade, and Heights General on Heights Blvd. and US 610 north. They all operate the same. There is a relaxed attitude between nurses and physicians. It can’t be any other way. Doctors marry nurses! They all have access to hospital and office narcotics. The first thing I was taught when I got out in private practice was that you weren’t a real doctor until you ‘screwed your nurse, took dope, and pissed in the sink’. Reuben was mildly upset and shook his head.

They found meperidine in Dr. Alvarez’s blood. I’m just trying to find out where he got it. The cops will call you downtown and ask you the same. Now, who was the nurse that was supplying Dr. Alvarez with dope and screwing him? asked Sandra, upset. The cops are going to ask you. They haven’t even started their investigation. They’re questioning all the policemen. If you want me to defend you, I need to know. Who was the nurse he chummed around with in Del Arroyo?

Estella, in the ER. They saw each other every day, replied Reuben, reluctantly.

What ER physician might be dealing dope? The police will eventually find out. Better I know.

Dr. Chester Fell! He’s a gynecologist out at North Professional building. He was chummy with Estella.

What was Estella’s last name?

I don’t know. They wore nametags, but I go to four hospitals and just try to remember their first names. I wasn’t chummy with her, obviously. I was married to Ruth before, and I was seeing Tricia. I don’t think a busy doctor can handle more than two at once. Some can, but I can’t.

Okay, Reuben, did you in any way have anything to do with Dr. Alvarez’s death?

Never! My wife is my alibi. My answering service always knows where I am, and they keep a record.

Who hated Dr. Alvarez the most?

Dr. Capistrano, the administrator! They never saw eye to eye, but, then again, I don’t know any hospital where the staff runs smoothly. The staff wants the best for their patients, regardless of cost, and the hospital administrators want to keep a lid on expenses. In any human endeavor, it’s always the bottom line. I’ve never been to a hospital staff meeting where there wasn’t a cuss fight, and I’ve never gone to a staff committee meeting where we got anything constructive done. Everybody paddled his own canoe.

Did Dr. Capistrano have anybody hanging around him that wasn’t directly involved in patient care? asked Sandra.

Not at staff meetings! The JP, Judge Vargus from North Central, came out and checked the DOA, and Lieutenant Fox from downtown, when he was a detective at North Central Patrol. They were buddies and drank coffee together. It’s lonely at the top, and Capistrano didn’t have many friends, replied Reuben, thoughtfully.

How about Patrolman Brice Redmon?

I can’t remember. There’re cops in the emergency room all the time. They get all the gunshot wounds and DOA. There’s more cops than doctors.

Could they be into dope?

G-O-K! God only knows, Sandra. They’re ubiquitous. I ignore them. Cardiovascular surgery is high risk, and I’m usually just concentrating on the patient, x-rays, ECG, etc., etc. They are usually about dead when I get ém. I don’t treat skin rashes or read comic books. If I can get ém still breathing and with a pulse, they have a fifty percent chance of making it through surgery.

Why did Dr. Alvarez not call the police, falsify the hospital records, and ship Juan Baptista out before he was stable? Dr. Capistrano might have been right!

You have my consultation report. I was not privy to Guadalupe’s reasons or motives. Maybe Juanita knows, or Estella, or Dr. Capistrano, or Carmaleta Posadas, his sister-in-law, or the shooter, if they find him. There had to be a connection. They say in Mexico that every killing is either a family feud or drug related,

replied Dr. Sanchez,