The Imposter (32 page)

Weston
Whitset wasn't used to feeling fear.  He didn't like it.  What the hell was
Anthony Gavette doing in the female seclusion room?  Fleeting thoughts raced
through his mind, as Anthony wrestled him to the floor and knocked him senseless
in the face.

Weston
knew he had the edge.  Even though Anthony was powerfully built and was heavier
than Weston by at least 50 pounds, Weston was smarter.  He let Anthony knock
him around a few times.  Then, he stuck his fingers into Anthony's eyes and
gave him a fierce kick to the groin.  Anthony, momentarily blinded, screamed
and fell backwards.  Weston sat on top of him and said, "Anthony, you're a
dumb, crazy, worthless piece of shit.  Let me tell you about me and Rose."

Anthony
lay docile under Weston, mesmerized by his cold, black marbled eyes.

"Yeah,
Anthony, let me tell you what it was like with your woman.  She's like any
other piece.  If you're nice to her, she'll put out.  No question about it. 
You see, me and Rose, we got this game.  We talk baby talk to each other and I
play with her."

Weston
was enjoying himself so much that he ignored the hiss that came from Anthony's
throat.  He continued, "You see, Anthony, you may be a big man and all,
but what I got is packaged just right for your poor little Rose.  I sing her a
few baby songs, sort of like nursery songs, and then we play married.  She
likes to play married.  She pretends she's a little housewife, the little woman
of the house, taking care of the plants and cooking me meatloaf.  She loves the
game.  Then, we start to wrestle, you know.  I usually sing to her while I
wrestle, and then she starts to take her clothes off for me.  Sometimes she
knows I'm coming, so she doesn't put any on .…"  Weston caught Anthony's
angry look and used it to his advantage.

"Yeah,
sometimes all she has on is a little teeny nighty.  Now, tonight she had on a
new blouse.  I made up a little song about her new blouse and it took her about
two seconds to take it off, and then….  Well, you know, it was pretty good. 
Not too great, but not bad for a crazy woman.  Basically, she is much too
skinny for me.   Just a bag of
…
, no real tits, not like Angie."

Whitset
felt Anthony stiffen under his body.  He said in a placating, singsong voice,
"Oh, did you want Angie, Anthony, the big tits nurse? Well, too bad, I got
her.  She was mine and she was good.  Anyway, Rose ain't much, even at her
best.  She looks like a little beggar girl when she's naked, all bones.  Of
course, Anthony, that probably makes a big man like you feel better, feel
good.  And then when she puts her .…"

Weston
was enjoying himself.   He loved to inflict pain on others.   He was enjoying
himself so much that he was unprepared for the primal scream and thrust from
Anthony that sent his body flailing against the wall.  Momentarily stunned, he
was defenseless when Anthony grabbed him and started beating his head against
the hard tile floor.  Beating it over and over.  Whitset's last thoughts were
those of searing pain, as he remembered his classmates laughing and taunting
him on the school bus.

Anthony
couldn't stop beating Whitset's head against the floor.  He was obsessed.  He
beat the administrator until blood ran from his ears and mouth.  The back of
his head was literally flattened from the beating.  Satisfied that Whitset was
dead, he threw his body into the closet, closed the metal door, and went to
sleep in his bed in the seclusion room.  He would tell them at group tomorrow
that the administrator was dead in his closet.  Anthony had sweet dreams about
the congrats he would receive tomorrow from his fellow patients.  He knew they
hated Whitset.   He had been one of them, but the balance of power had been
unfair.   Now the balance was fair.  Whitset was dead and in Anthony Gavette's
mind, that was really fair.  He smiled in his sleep at the thought.

Bye,
bye, Lester, you son of a bitch.   Forever!

Anthony
had great dreams all night.

The
night had been endless.  Alex had not slept at all.   She had been plagued with
nightmares and wished she had accepted Robert's offer to spend the night at her
house.   Consequently, she was exhausted, mentally and physically.   She had
sent the talkative Mona home for the day, unable to handle any extraneous noise
or conversation.  She's had called the Neuro ICU and been advised that
Monique's condition was unchanged.  She was still in a deep coma.  

Alex
was deeply depressed.   She considered calling her grandmother in Virginia, but
knew Kathryn would pick up on the despondency in her voice.   Her grandmother
was just smart like that and she could read Alex like a book.   She didn't want
to upset her grandparents and have them charting a jet to New Orleans anytime
soon.

As
Alex sat at her desk, she remembered the day in February, just after Mardi
Gras, when she had received Mitch's last letter.   In essence, it was his
declaration of love.  For some reason, Alex pulled out her copy of the letter
from her desk and reread it.  It only made more hot tears come into her eyes
and she began to cry harder and wish things were different.  Alex knew her life
would never be the same.  She knew she had to leave New Orleans and start
over.  Things here were just too impossible.  There had been too much
heartbreak in such a short period of time.  First, February, and now all of
this .…

She
continued with her morbid thoughts.  She could easily identify her losses: 
Jack, Monique, Mitch, and possibly Robert.  And for what?  New Orleans had
brought her nothing but heartache and grief for the last six months.  The first
year and a half had been okay, but lately ….

 As
she continued to think, her eyes strayed to a letter she had received from her
colleague in San Francisco.  A large managed care organization was seeking a hospital
attorney to set up an in house legal counsel office.  The position was only a
year.  Her friend was urging her to come for an interview, assuring her the
organization would meet any stipulations she required.  Alex began to consider
it. 

San
Francisco sounded like a long way to go alone and start over.   Virginia,
Texas, New Orleans, San Francisco ….  Was this a logical progression for her
career?  But, was that what she wanted, a career?  Or did she want something
else?  Hadn’t she said only a short time ago that she wanted a husband and a
family? 

Alex
laughed out loud and began to consider how screwed up she was.  Her
grandparents would die if she moved to California.  The Congressman was
convinced the place was doomed and had been waiting for it to fall off the face
of the earth forever.  

At
this point, though the opportunity was sounding more promising.   Perhaps she
should find a position in Virginia after New Orleans.  Now, that was a
thought.  Her grandparents were growing older and she wanted to be closer to
them.   She missed them dreadfully
.  And, she missed
Virginia, the horse farm and her horse.   Still, Alex continued to think as her
office door opened.   Good, she thought, a distraction.   Anything was better
than thinking about the last 48 hours.   Standing in front of her was Nadine.

"For
heaven's sake, Nadine.  Sit down.  You're looking at me like I might suddenly
go into orbit.  I'm better.  I think.  No, I promise." Alex gave the
forensic nurse a brave smile.

Nadine
sat down across from her and said, "Robert just spoke with Jack.  The
picture is not good for Dr. Desmonde.  If I read between the lines, Robert is
trying to offer Jack some hope.  But, I really don't think there is much, at
least based on what Robert is saying at this point."  Nadine looked sad
and she barely knew Monique Desmonde.

The
sharp intake of air seemed to crush her chest.   Alex knew her voice was
breathless when she responded.  "How did Jack take it?"

"Okay,
I guess.  He only wants her to talk to him.  Says he's planning on marrying
her, no matter what."

"I
guess you know they have a secret relationship.   But of course you do, I told
you in the car coming back from Mississippi.   I only learned several days
ago.  They were so happy.  Robert and I had dinner with them two nights ago –
to celebrate.  I think they had planned to marry.  They were so happy."
Her voice trailed off, unable to believe that so much could happen so quickly
and be so devastating.

"Yeah,
I know.  You told me.  I hope she comes out of it.  They'll be down here
shortly.  Robert was taking Jack to see Monique in the ICU again."
Nadine's voice sounded glum.

Alex
shuddered.  "Oh my, I hope Jack's able to keep it together.  I wish I were
with him.   If you know anything about hospitals, a PACU or ICU can be scary
and intimidating, to say the least.  "

Nadine
nodded.  "Dr. Bonnet will do a good job.  He's a kind, sensitive
man." Nadine paused for a moment and looked at Alex directly.  "You
know, Alex, Dr. Bonnet loves you as well.  Did you know that?"

Alex
looked uncertain.  "I don't know, Nadine.  We have a lot of issues to work
on.  We were married once and Robert's been troubled with his arm.  I can't say
for sure things will ever work for us.   He's prone to sadness and depression
and I don't want to live with that."

Nadine
nodded and looked at her quietly, "That's part of his Creole blood.   Do
you want things to work out, Alex?"

Alex
said in a tired voice, "I don't know, Nadine.  There is too much happening
now.  Too many other things to work on.  We'll see."

"Will
you promise to allow Robert to help you work through this thing with Whitset?
Your recovery from the rape will be the same no matter what the lab test
determines.  Do you understand that?" Nadine looked at her, her dark eyes
locked with Alex's blue ones.

"I
don't know.  I just don't know.  I'm pretty confused now.  We'll see.  I will
promise you that I won't shut …." Alex was interrupted when Robert and
Jack walked into her office.  They both had a sense of urgency about them. 
Robert walked over and hugged her for a moment.  He could feel how stiff she
felt in his arms.  He sighed and looked at Jack.

Françoise
said in a rough voice, "We've got to hightail it over to the Pavilion. 
There's another corpse over there!"

"My
God, now who, Commander?" Nadine asked, her voice breathless.  "Is this
ever going to stop?"

"Don't
know, Nadine.  Josh just paged me again.  He said to get over there ASAP.   He
and Elizabeth are up there and the forensic team is coming."

Alex
looked and felt weary, as she gathered her legal pad and purse.  She asked,
"Did anyone call Don Montgomery?"

"I'm
not calling the SOB.  Let's move!" No one stopped to argue with Françoise.

The
Pavilion was bristling with activity.  Once again the place was crawling with
police.  Sandy Pilsner met them at the locked door and ushered them in.  Sandy
announced she was covering for Donna Meade, who was still out from the injuries
inflicted on her by Anthony Gavette.

"Sandy,
you just keep showing up like a good penny every time something bad has
happened."  Alex reached out to hug her. 

Sandy
hugged Alex back and said, "Thank goodness for the added security.  This
place is crazy! All the seclusion rooms are full and the place is finally sort
of stable.    Let's go back to the community room." Her voice was quiet
and subdued, but her high color reflected the intensity of the situation.

"Who
is dead? Tell us, Sandy." Alex's voice sounded desperate as they walked
down the hall and entered the community room.  She quickly looked around,
relieved that only staff she knew were present.

Josh
Martin met them at the community room door.  He quietly ushered them into the
room.  His eyes were strangely bright.  He looked pleased, even happy.   Sandy
sat at the head of the table and addressed the group.

"At
the morning group meeting Anthony announced that he had a dead body in the
closet in the seclusion room.  No one really paid any attention to him.  He had
been locked in seclusion since his attack on Donna.  Anyway, he began a long
story about how his seclusion room had an elevator in the closet and how
someone had come in his room last night.  He told us how that someone had been
using the seclusion room for his fun house and love nest and how that same
someone had raped and killed a female patient earlier this year.  One of the
nurses remembered the suicide of a young woman in that room late this spring. 
I began to take notice, so I called Officer Martin here and he and I went with
Anthony into the seclusion room.  He was right.  There is an elevator and the
body .…"

"Who
the hell is in there?" Françoise voice was furious.  "Martin, have
you secured the scene?"

Josh
nodded and said, "Why don't we just show you, Commander, all of you if
you'd like!"

Alex
felt her fear increasing as they walked down the hall, passed the nurse's
station, and entered the last seclusion room.  Smears of blood were on the
floor and the wall.  Josh moved ahead of the group and opened the closet. 
There, on the floor, in a pool of blood, hair, and brain matter, was a very
dead Lester – Weston -- Whitset.

A
pitiful cry came from Alex, as she crammed her fist into her mouth and fainted
into Robert and Josh Martin’s arms.  At the same moment, Donald Montgomery
entered the room, screaming and cursing because he hadn't been called
immediately.  When he saw the dead Whitset, he turned and started upbraiding
Jack Françoise for shoddy police work.

Don's
voice was loud and angry.   "What the hell, Françoise? Why didn't you find
this man last night? What the hell is he doing dead in a closet in my hospital?
You and your officers are worthless pieces of shit! How am I ever going to
explain this one – to the media, to the board? My own administrator, dead in
his own hospital on his own unit.   What the hell am I supposed to say?"

Françoise’s
dark eyes gleamed hatefully at the pompous Montgomery.  He said in a scathing
voice, "I don't really give a shit what you say Montgomery, but listen to
this.  
Your
administrator, whom
you
hired
all
by
yourself, was an imposter.   He wasn't even a hospital administrator.   The
bastard didn't even have a college degree.   What kind of a moron are
you?"

Montgomery
looked at Jack with disbelief and said, "Listen, you stupid son of a
bitch.   Whitset is exactly who he is ....”

Jack
grabbed the hospital administrator by the shoulder and shook him as he
interrupted Montgomery's tirade.   "Listen, you idiot.   Lester Whitset
was really Weston Whitset.  Lester, a bona fide hospital administrator, died
years ago, and Weston, a deranged mental patient who spent most of his life
confined for aberrant behavior, assumed his identity.  He was a rapist and a
murderer.  Did you check him out Montgomery, or did you just hire him because
he promised to reduce costs?"  Françoise paused for a moment, then
continued to go head to head with the red-faced CEO. 

By
this time, an audience had gathered outside the room.   Françoise continued,
completely out of control, his emotional agony unleashed.  He said harshly,
"By the way, Donald, how big was Whitset's percentage this Quarter? What
was his bonus for saving costs at the expense of patient care? Thousands of
dollars?  Talk about incompetent, look in the mirror you weasel-faced son of a bitch."

Montgomery
was white with anger.  He was unable to speak.  
Françoise
was enjoying the scene, but was still angry.  He said, "Never mind, you
little ingratiating asshole, you don't have to tell me! It's a matter of
record, the
Times Picayune
will be hot to know.  You're a cheap, stingy,
son of a bitch!" Françoise sneered at the CEO.

Montgomery
was livid with fury.  He lunged towards the Commander.   Josh Martin was about
to come to his Commander's defense when Françoise slammed his fist into the administrator's
face, cold cocking him onto the floor.  A rousing cheer went up from the
group. 

Alex
completely missed it.  When she came to, Robert took her home, where she slept
for hours.