Reed sat down, glancing around at the room. There was plenty of space between the furnishings to allow for Gordon Draper’s wheelchair to move easily, but it didn’t appear as if it got much use other than as a pass-through. The pillows on the sofa were neatly placed, not a speck of lint or a dent where someone might sit on the couch or easy chairs. There were several photos in frames on the fireplace mantel, and Reed’s gaze zeroed in on one of a younger Gordon Draper, standing, though with the assistance of a cane. Despite the cane, he looked hearty and robust. Much different than the shrunken man who had greeted him at the door. Whatever physical malady he suffered, it had obviously progressively worsened over the years. He understood now what Liza had meant about the former director not being a likely threat to anyone.
“I’m sorry about that,” Gordon Draper said, his wheelchair making a low hum as he approached. He parked it across from where Reed was sitting. “My grandson Everett loved to work in the garden I planted out back when I was lighter on my feet.” A brief smile passed over his face before his expression shifted to sadness. “He . . . took his own life six months ago.” His forehead creased and his shoulders lowered with the words, but he pulled himself higher in his chair. “I’d let it get so out of hand . . . untended. Gardening is not the easiest of pastimes for a man in my predicament.” He waved a hand toward his thin legs. “I’ve been trying to bring it back. For Everett . . .” His voice faded away, and he seemed to lose himself for a moment before looking back at Reed. “My apologies. My reaction to you on the porch was born only of the fact that detectives have not come bearing good news in the recent past.”
Christ. Liza had said he’d experienced a recent death in the family. His heart went out to the old guy, not only broken of body, but by loss as well. He’d been clumsy in his approach, even if he’d had no way of knowing Mr. Draper’s specific circumstances. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Thank you. Not that the news of Mr. . . .” He shook his head, bringing one hand to his temple. “Forgive me, I’ve forgotten his name—"
“Sadowski. Steven Sadowski.”
“Yes, of course. Sadowski. I sat in on one of his interviews, but I never worked with him directly. I left a few days before he began. And murdered you say? How?”
Reed went through the circumstances of Steven Sadowski’s murder and Gordon Draper grimaced when he told him about the enucleation, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the arms of his wheelchair. “My God,” he murmured. “Inside the hospital? Do you have any suspects?”
“We don’t have any suspects as of now. But it appears that whoever placed the victim in the spot where he was discovered, was somewhat familiar with the hospital layout.”
Gordon Draper nodded. “I’d think so, if he made it past the cameras without so much as a glimpse of his shirtsleeve. No one’s that lucky. But why place the body in the hospital at all?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Any theories?”
Gordon Draper looked to the side, frowning, and appearing to consider the question.
“Anything, no matter how small, could help,” Reed said. He could always tell when someone was weighing whether or not to say something. Sometimes it turned out to be nothing, but sometimes . . .
Gordon Draper blew out a breath. “During his interview process, there was something in his file from years before . . .” His forehead creased again, and he looked deeply torn. “It turned out to be nothing.”
“What did, Mr. Draper? It could help find the person who committed a terrible, violent crime. The person who’s still out there now, free to harm others.”
“I’m afraid this might waste your time, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind when you ask who might have something against him.” He rubbed at his eye. “He had worked for another hospital before Lakeside and during that time, he’d been accused of watching the female patients as they changed in the showers and used the women’s facilities.”
“Watched? So . . . a peeping Tom?”
“That was the charge. Only it was unfounded. And later, the female patient who made the accusation recanted her story. She said she was