(The Loving Spoonful for those not old enough to remember the song).
"A Shadow In The City"
by Cathy Roberts
"Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck gettin' dirt-'n'-gritty
Bend down, isn't it a pity
Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city
All around people lookin' half dead
Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match-head"
"Jerry, turn that down now!" Kerry had to yell to be heard above the radio. It was ungodly hot outside, the air conditioning at home was broken and she had broken out in a sweat before she ever left the house. The last thing she needed was to walk into work to begin her shift and have to put up with Jerry's pathetic attempts to play disc jockey, she thought.
"Sorry, Dr. Weaver," Jerry tried to look apologetic as he lowered the volume amongst a multitude of protests.
"Try to remember that this is an emergency room and not a discotheque." Kerry stormed into the lounge, ignoring the young man who had entered the emergency room with her.
"Carter, what did you do to put her in such a lousy mood?" Chuni asked as John logged into the computer.
He grinned, "It didn't take much, believe me. For starters, the air conditioning is broken and the repair service has no idea when they'll be able to come out and fix it. Apparently, this heat wave has resulted in a lot of broken air conditioning systems and we're way down on their list. For all those nights I spent freezing in that basement, I now have the coolest room in the entire house."
"You said for starters, what else is going on?" Jerry prompted.
Carter glanced sideways at him. As far as he knew, Carol was the only other person that Kerry had spoken to regarding her search for her birth mother, so he wasn't going to mention to anyone that Kerry was in a bad mood because the search was taking so long. She had endured more than one false lead and that morning had declared that if she encountered another then she would cease her search for her biological parents. While John felt a lot of sympathy for her emotional roller coaster ride, he didn't think she should give up. Sure, there were bound to be a few false leads, but in the end it would be worth it, right? Kerry hadn't agreed and had promptly told him to mind his own business. Maybe if it weren't so hot, she wouldn't have gotten so angry. And maybe he wouldn't have gotten so defensive when she did. But, it was hot, she did get angry and he had retorted back that if she didn't want his opinions on her business then she shouldn't share her life with him. Doors had been slammed, utensils tossed angrily into the sink and then they had silently left for work, both of them simmering in their anger.
The ride to work had been a boon to them both because the air in her car worked just fine. By the time Kerry had parked, they were both regretting their words. They had exchanged short apologies, then headed inside.
But there was no way that John would share all that with his co-workers. So he simply replied, "Traffic."
Chuni nodded, "It seems to be so much worse when it's summer, doesn't it?"
John agreed, "The heat makes tempers flare, that's for sure." Satisfied that he was properly logged onto the system, he went to the lounge to change into his lab coat and begin work.
Kerry had put away her belongings and was now enjoying a cup of coffee. "John, I'm really sorry about this morning."
"Kerry, we already apologized to each other. It was hot in the house and we were both short tempered. It's okay."
She shook her head. "No, it's not okay. John, I value your friendship and your company. I shared the details of my life with you because I wanted you to know about my life. I find it all too easy to think of you as a younger brother and I don't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable at home."
John put on his lab coat and grinned, "Kerry, younger brothers learn at an early age to forgive a lot. Believe me. I'm not uncomfortable at home. Hey, if it's still hot inside the house tonight, you can sleep in my room and I'll take the couch. It's much cooler in the basement."
"Thanks for the offer, but I can't run you out of your bed."
"You wouldn't be running me out of my bed. I'm offering to let you in it."
Mark paused in the doorway, a silly grin on his face. "Did I hear what I think I just heard?"
John's face turned scarlet, "No. I was just telling Kerry that she could sleep in my bed tonight because it's so hot. I mean, oh Hell." He sank into the nearest chair while Mark and Kerry burst into laughter.
"I heard about the air conditioning, Carter. I just wanted to tease you a little, that's all," Mark poured himself a cup of coffee. "Although, you should be glad that it was only me who overheard what you said and not someone like Jerry."
"Or Chuni," John mumbled. He was still getting ribbed about kissing Lucy Knight months ago. Thank God it was summer and Lucy was not around. By September, most of the staff should have forgotten Chuni's allegations that she had caught him and Lucy making out in the x-ray room.
As if he had summoned her, Chuni pushed the door open to announce an incoming trauma. "Self-inflicted GSW to the head. ETA is three minutes."
"Got it," Mark said as he downed his coffee and followed Kerry and John out.
By the time the paramedics arrived, the victim was dead. Half of his head had been blown away from the shotgun blast and it was beyond them how he had managed to survive as long as he had. Mark had to officially declare the man dead, even though there could be no doubt as to whether or not he was alive. The police officer that had accompanied the paramedics to the hospital explained that the man had taken the shotgun to the park, sat down against a tree and put the barrel in his mouth before pulling the trigger.
"There's no I.D. on him, but my partner is checking out the cars which were parked out at Douglas Park. One of them has to be his. There's no way he walked there with a shotgun in his hand."
John shook his head, "It's always sad when someone takes their own life. I wonder what his reason was?"
"Reasons don't matter, Carter," Mark reminded.
Chuni was still searching through the man's clothing and she held up a folded envelope. 'To My Family' was neatly written on the front.
"This might be a note of some kind," she said as she handed it to the officer.
"Let's hope there's a name in here." He opened the envelope and began to read. "Yep, it's a suicide note. Says he's sorry, but he can't go on any longer...tired of having to constantly defend himself against his accusers...not being trusted by his wife's father." The officer read on in silence.
"Well?" Chuni prompted.
He looked up, "He admits to being guilty as charged, but that it's not his fault. He was led astray and he apologizes to his wife for violating their wedding vows. It's signed, love, Joe. That's it." He returned the letter to the envelope, then stepped out of the room, followed by the doctors.
"I guess we'll have to hope that my partner has better luck in finding his car."
"Yeah. I still can't help but wonder about him though. What was he accused of doing?" John asked.
"We can find that out once we know who he is." The officer left and the staff returned to work.
"Doc Magoo's for lunch?" Mark asked the crowd around the desk.
"Nah. Too hot to walk over there. I'll just take my chances with the cafeteria," John replied.
"Wimp." Mark looked around, but no one else was willing to go out into the heat either. "Are you guys going to make me walk over there by myself?"
"Yes," Chuni said. "And since you're going anyway, could you pick up a sandwich for me?"
"That's a good idea, Chuni. Mark, I'd like a BLT on whole wheat. Toasted, please," Kerry said as she handed some money to Mark.
"Well, since you're going over there, I'd much rather avoid the cafeteria," John grinned.
"Great, now I'm the waiter," Mark muttered good-naturedly as he accepted everyone's orders.
"Excuse me?" a distinguished voice asked from the window. John swirled, instantly recognizing that voice.
"Grandfather? What brings you down here?"
Jacob Carter was a tall man with white hair who carried himself with an air of superiority. It was plainly evident from the way he held his body away from the window ledge that he felt he was in danger of being contaminated by anything he touched.
"Your uncle never arrived for work today. An hour ago, I received a call from the police that one of the company cars had been found abandoned in Douglas Park. It was the car that Joseph uses. The officer said something about an unidentified man being brought in here this morning and that they thought he might be Joseph."
John slowly shook his head. "There was no identification on the man. Only a suicide note signed 'Joe'. The body has been taken down to the morgue, but there's no way to identify him by looking at him, grandfather.""
"The police officer informed me of that as well. Did he not have personal belongings? Jewelry? Clothing? Joseph has two rings that are engraved."
John turned to Chuni, "What did you do with his belongings?"
"They're right here. I figured the police would be coming back for them. Everything that was on his body is in there." She handed a bag to John.
"We can go in the lounge." He walked around to his grandfather, then led him into the lounge where he emptied the bag onto the table.
As he watched his grandfather sift through the bloodied clothing, he found himself hoping that he was here in vain. He hated the idea that another relative of his had come through those doors. While it was true that his Uncle Joseph was not a blood relative, he was still family. He watched as his grandfather carefully opened the plastic baggie that held the man's watch and rings. Jacob carefully examined each piece of jewelry, then he put them back in the baggie.
"These belong to your uncle. I'd like to see the body."
"Are you sure that they're Uncle Joe's?" John didn't want to believe that the man was really dead.
"I'm sure. The watch was a gift to him from Emily two Christmas' ago. It has a line from a poem on the back. His wedding ring is engraved with his and Emily's initials and the date of their wedding. The other ring is one that Casey gave him this past Christmas. You would have recognized the watch and ring if you ever bothered to come to the house for Christmas."
John chose to ignore that last barb. It was useless to try to explain to his grandfather that he had to work on Christmas Eve. In the world of Jacob Carter, his will and desires came first and everyone was expected to cater to him.
"I'll take you to the morgue now."
As he watched his grandfather walk out of the morgue, John informed the clerk that "John Doe" now had a name; Joseph Eugene Thielen. He gave him the correct spelling of the name, then caught up to his grandfather at the elevators.
"I wanted to see if it really was Joseph before I called Emily. She will be devastated." Jacob said. "Joseph was a wonderful asset to the company and he'll be greatly missed by all the employees."
"His note said something about his being accused of doing something. Do you know anything about that?"
Jacob coolly regarded his grandson, then nodded. "I do. However, I am not at liberty to discuss the issue with you. I can see that I will have to visit the police station to see what else was in this note of his."
Remembering what the officer had read to them, John said, "I don't think that you should let Aunt Emily see the note."
"My feelings exactly. May I take Joseph's belongings? I don't want Emily to have to come down here just to get them."
"Of course. That's not a problem."
After escorting his grandfather outside to his limo, John slowly walked back into the building.
"It is your uncle then?" Kerry asked him.
"Yeah. He and Aunt Emily have one child, Casey. She's an actress of sorts." Which was, in his opinion, about the only way to describe Casey's acting abilities. Everyone knew that she only toyed with the theatre because it let her travel. If she wasn't chosen to act in a production, she would often volunteer to fill other positions. By now, she had a strong working knowledge of every job that was involved with a minor or major production, be it a drama or a musical. In John's opinion, it was a waste of her business degree, and he often wondered why she didn't just study theatre arts in college. Probably because grandfather would not have approved, he thought.
"Were you close to him?" Kerry's question intruded on his thoughts.
"When I was younger and my parents had to travel, the three of us would stay with them. Plus, our family often takes vacations together. My grandparents own a place on Martha's Vineyard and my parents have a condo on St. Bartholomew's Island. Uncle Joe has a cabin up on the Lake in Michigan. I just can't believe that he's dead."
"I'm sorry. There won't be a problem with you having time off for the funeral, John. Just let us know the details."
"Thanks, Kerry."
"Mark brought your lunch back. You should eat now."
"I'm not hungry anymore. I'd much rather just keep busy." He reached for a chart, then headed off to find the patient.
Mark approached Kerry, "Was it his uncle?"
"Yeah. I told him to let us know the details for the funeral so we can arrange some time off for him."
Mark shook his head. "Hell of a thing, isn't it? To have a relative come through those doors and be in such bad shape that you can't recognize them."
"Reminds me of when Dennis Gant died. He wasn't recognizable either." Kerry glanced down at the bag Mark had handed to her earlier. "I had better put this in the fridge in case he gets hungry later."
Kerry went into the lounge to put away the lunch Mark had bought for John. She hoped that John would be more talkative once they got home. It was plain he was hurting and she knew that talking about his uncle would help the grieving process.
Despite the fact that the sun had been down for over an hour, by the time John and Kerry returned home, the house was stifling. While Kerry opened windows, John was dispatched to the attic to search for a fan. Kerry knew she had bought one years ago and thought a previous tenant might have stowed it away up there.
When John pulled open the steps, the air that swooped down to meet him was oppressive and dry. "Why does heat have to rise anyway?" He thought as he stepped off the ladder and reached for the cord to the light. A sudden shiver shot through him and the first thought to reach his brain was the old adage about "someone just walked over his grave" He immediately berated himself, knowing he was feeling morbid because of his uncle's death. Still, even with the light on, the shadows in the attic seemed reluctant to be banished, and they lingered in the recesses and along the walls. "Get hold of yourself, Carter." He admonished himself. "It's just the attic. You've been up here before."
He looked to the right, where he had stored the boxes containing the Christmas decorations. He knew there was no fan over in that direction. Looking to his left, he didn't immediately spot a fan either, but he figured he would check in that direction first. He hadn't taken that many steps when the light flickered then died.
He froze in place, not able to remember if anything had been in front of him before the light went out. With no windows in the attic, the only source of light was coming through the hole in the floor where he had entered. It wasn't enough, he thought as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Not nearly enough. Turning slowly, he began to walk carefully toward the entrance. He knew that if he headed straight for the opening that he wouldn't trip over anything because that was the way he had just come. He painfully found out he was wrong when he hit a large object at knee level and went sprawling over it, crashing into storage boxes as he hit the floor.
"Shit," he said as he sat up. His knee hurt and so did his hands and elbows from where he had tried to break his fall. Nothing broken, he noted as he felt along his knee and lower leg.
"John?" Kerry's voice floated up through the opening. "Are you okay? What's going on up there?"
"The light burned out. I'm fine." He reached out toward the object that had tripped him, encountering metal slats. "I found the fan." Strange though, that he hadn't seen it before.
He got to his feet and carried the fan to the opening.
"Be careful coming down," Kerry said. She stood off to one side, watching him.
"I will." He stepped down to the ladder, then grabbed the fan and carefully made his way down to the floor.
"One fan delivered," he grinned.
"Thank you." Kerry frowned, "You're bleeding."
"I am? Where?" He looked down at his hands and legs, but didn't see any blood.
"Your head." Kerry pointed to his forehead.
"I tripped over the fan after the light burned out. I must have hit my head on something."
"Well, let's get downstairs and clean it. It doesn't look bad, but I don't want to take any chances."
Once downstairs, John did insist on getting the fan going before allowing Kerry to examine the cut. It turned out to be minor, not even needing a bandage of any sort. Just a simple cleaning. Afterwards, he replaced the burned out bulb with a new one, making sure it was the correct wattage. This time, the attic seemed much brighter and not as creepy.
"Just my overactive imagination," he mused as he left the attic, closing the steps from below. The sound of the telephone echoed up the stairs and he heard Kerry answer. Then he heard her calling him.
He hurried down the steps; sure that it was his grandfather with news regarding his Uncle Joe's funeral arrangements.
"It's your grandfather," Kerry said as she handed the receiver to him.
"Thanks. Yes, sir?"
"Are you able to come out to the house tonight?"
John looked up at the clock, it was almost nine and he was on at six in the morning. If the traffic were in his favor, it would take him only thirty minutes to get to his grandparents' house. "It's getting pretty late, but I can come out. Have you made the funeral arrangements yet?"
"We can discuss that when you get here. Drive carefully, John."
"I will. See you soon." He hung up, then let Kerry know that he was headed to his grandparents' house and didn't know when or if he'd be back. "I'll do my best to be to work on time," he promised.
"Don't worry about it. Under the circumstances, you can take however much time you need. Just call if you're going to be late."
"I will. Since I won't be here, why don't you sleep downstairs tonight? It really is much cooler in the basement."
She nodded slightly, "I will."
"And don't forget to close the windows up here. I don't want to get home later and find out that you've been robbed," his tone was serious.
"I will. You should go on now. Drive carefully."
"I will. Bye." He grabbed his keys and left.
When John arrived at the Carter mansion, he was surprised to see a police car parked in the driveway. He wasn't aware that it was police policy to visit the homes of the in-laws of suicide victims.
The butler opened the door as John reached the top step. "Mr. Carter and the others are expecting you," he informed him.
"Thanks."
John went back to the den where the family had gathered. Two strangers were present, an uniformed police officer and another man in regular clothes who was introduced to him as Detective Clark Morgan. Another non-family member present was Theo Reilly, the Carter family attorney.
John gave his Aunt Emily a long hug. "How did Casey handle the news?"
"Not well. She adored her father. A friend of hers is driving her home tonight because she was too upset to drive herself. Luckily, they're in Cleveland, so it won't be a long drive for them. I told her to just come straight here since I'm staying here until after the funeral."
"And what are the funeral arrangements?" he asked.
Emily glanced over at the police officers, "We don't know yet. The police have said that there's a possibility that Joe didn't commit suicide. They're here to speak with us to see if Joe had any other enemies."
"Any other enemies? Aunt Emily, I'm confused about what's going on. Was Uncle Joe in any kind of trouble?"
The detective overheard his question and answered. "Mr. Thielen had been under investigation for sexual molestation. The investigation ended when the victim's family changed their mind about pressing charges. However, in light of the evidence surrounding his death, we may have to consider the possibility that he was murdered."
John sat down by his aunt. "What evidence? He was brought into the hospital with a gun shot wound to the head."
"True. People in the park, including a police officer, heard a shotgun blast, and when they located the source of the sound they found Joseph. It was apparent to the officer that he had shot himself, even though his hand was no longer on the trigger. The shotgun was confiscated for testing and fingerprinting. The gun had been fired, but there were no fingerprints at all on the gun. It had been wiped clean."
"And you suspect the family of the person he supposedly molested?"
"They are possible suspects. We will also be investigating the possibility that this person was not his only victim."
John shook his head, "You're wrong. He wouldn't go around molesting people."
"Not just people, Johnny," Emily softly said. "It was a little boy. Joseph was involved in the Big Brother program and this child was assigned to him. About three weeks ago, his parents went to the police, alleging that Joseph had exposed himself to the boy and also fondled him."
"But, you said they changed their mind about pressing charges?" John asked the detective.
"I think that Mr. Carter can tell us more about that." He looked over to Jacob Carter.
"I offered the parents money if they would recant the charges. They did. Joseph was against the idea. He wanted to prove his innocence, even if he had to go to court. I told him that if the child had truly been molested, then the parents would not have settled for money, they would have wanted justice. I know that if my child was a victim like that, I wouldn't rest until the molester was either behind bars or dead."
Millicent nodded her agreement with her husband's position. She would move Heaven and Earth to bring a molester to justice, no matter who he or she was.
"So you think the parents of this boy wanted to see him dead?" John turned his attention back to the detective.
"As I said, they are possible suspects. We are also looking into the possibility that this child was not his only victim."
"You're assuming that he was guilty." John tried to keep the anger out of his voice, but he knew he wasn't succeeding.
"At this point in the investigation, we are assuming everything, Dr. Carter. We also consider everyone to be a suspect." Morgan's eyes narrowed. "And that does include this family. We would like to ask a few questions of each of you in an effort to determine everyone's whereabouts this morning. Is there another room we can use?"
Millicent nodded, "The dining room would be the best place."
"Thank you. Mr. Carter, shall we begin with you?" Morgan asked.
"Why not? Theo?"
Jacob Carter and the attorney led the way to the dining room. Once the police were out of the room, John gave his aunt another
hug.
"I am so sorry, Aunt Emily."
"I just don't know what to believe. Joe assured me that he was innocent, that the boy was trying to make trouble because Joe wouldn't give him money. I want to believe in him."
John gave her shoulder a soft squeeze. "Then do just that. I just can't understand why they aren't content to let him die in peace. None of this makes a difference, does it?"
"It does if someone murdered him, John," Millicent said. "Thankfully, your father and Uncle Branch are out of the country, so they won't have to be interrogated."
"Unless the police want to believe they would hire someone to kill him. Oh, God. I can't believe I just said that about my own brothers and my husband." Emily burst into tears. She had been living a nightmare the past three weeks and now she had no idea if it would ever end.
John let her use his shoulder to cry on, his own heart breaking over his aunt's pain. By the time Emily got herself under control, Jacob was back.
"Millicent, they would like to speak with you now."
"I hope this doesn't take long," she said as she headed out the door.
"What did they ask you?" Emily asked her father.
"Where I was this morning around the time Joe was shot. How I felt about the accusations against him. Theo assures me that they are fairly routine questions."
The questioning went on until John was the last one to be called into the dining room. He sat at the table, impatiently waiting while the detective and the officer compared notes. He knew that he was in the clear as he and Kerry had been on their way to work at the time Joe was shot.
Morgan looked up from his notes and smiled. "Thank you for being so patient. This won't take long, Doctor Carter."
"I hope not. What do you want to know?"
"Where were you at 6:45 this morning?"
"I was on my way to work at County General Hospital. My supervisor, Kerry Weaver, who is also my landlady, drove us into work. We had only been at work for about ten minutes when Uncle Joe was brought in. It was obvious that there was nothing we could do for him, even though his body was still struggling to hold on."
"You treated him?" Morgan seemed surprised to hear that.
"That's correct. Doctor Mark Greene, Doctor Weaver and I all treated him. He didn't have any identification on his body and his face was - unrecognizable", he paused as he struggled to block out that memory. "It wasn't until my grandfather came to the hospital around noon that I found out it might be my uncle. Grandfather was able to identify him by his jewelry; some of it was engraved."
"I see. Were you close to your uncle?"
"Not really. I spent a lot of time at his house when I was growing up. My parents first began to do a lot of work related travelling when I was about six or seven. My cousin Casey, Aunt Emily and Uncle Joe's daughter, is the same age as my sister, Barbara. So, it seemed to be only natural for the three of us to stay at their house."
"Three of us? You have another sister?"
"I had an older brother. He died of leukemia when he was twelve."
"I see. And you also have a another cousin, Chase Carter?"
"That's right."
"Did he ever stay there as well?"
"I really don't remember. Maybe a time or two. Why?"
"Just curious. To the best of your knowledge, did your uncle ever do anything to make you or your brother feel uncomfortable?"
"I don't understand what you mean." John understood all too well what the detective was asking. He didn't like the fact that the man was asking it to begin with.
"Did your uncle ever touch you in any way that he should not have? Did he ever make you touch him? Did he ever expose himself to you?"
John stood. "I cannot believe that you would ask me that. The man is dead. It doesn't matter if someone killed him or if he killed himself, he's still dead and should be allowed to rest in peace. All you're doing is making things worse for my aunt and her daughter. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back home. It's getting late and I have to be to work early in the morning."
He turned his back on the police officers and went back to the den to say his good-byes to his aunt and grandparents.
"Let me know when Casey gets in, okay?" he asked his aunt.
"I will. Roland called while you were with the policemen. He and your mother will be taking the same flight as Barbara and they'll all get in late tomorrow afternoon."
"Good. Hopefully by tomorrow, that detective will realize just how foolish all of this is and you can go ahead with the funeral arrangements."
"I hope so."
"Try to get some sleep tonight," he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then left.
The police officers left shortly after that, promising to be in touch soon. Millicent walked Emily up to bed and Jacob poured drinks for himself and Theo Reilly.
"Your thoughts, Theo?"
"I think they were sincere in trying to clear the family. It's obvious though that Detective Morgan feels that Joseph was guilty of the molestation charges. He even asked John if Joseph had ever exposed himself to him or asked John to touch him. Or if he had ever touched John."
Jacob snorted. "That entire investigation was preposterous. All they had to go on was the word of a vindictive child. I don't know what this country has come to when a child can accuse a good man of something so heinous and be believed without any otherevidence."
Theo nodded. The police did not have any physical evidence against Joseph. That was why Joseph had been so insistent upon fighting the charges.
"I'm sure that John told them off."
"He seemed upset that they would ask him those questions. His opinion is that they should just let Joseph rest in peace. Jacob, one thing that struck me as odd is that John never did answer the questions."
"I wouldn't answer a question like that, either, Theo."
"I know," Theo had to grin at that. He had known Jacob Carter for years and knew that the man could be a stubborn ass at the most inopportune times. Still, he had known John for all of his life, and he had never known John to not answer a question. It might not be the answer you were looking for, but he still gave you an answer. The fact that he didn't answer made him uneasy and he didn't like feeling that way.
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