Collette pointed upward. “On the far side, actually connects to Dr. Hodges’s office, only one or two rooms away from where we think Duvall has the three hostages. He could have moved them, we don’t know. The fire escape works, but it’s old, probably creaks, and we’re worried Duvall would hear us given where we believe he is. We decided it’s a no-go.”
Sherlock said, “You said he screamed he wouldn’t go back to Red Onion. On our ride here, I called Warden Hendricks myself, spoke to him about Duvall. Hendricks said Duvall thought of himself as a badass, but he isn’t that big, plus he’s good-looking and was always fighting off the bigger guys. He’d go into rages, and everyone knew he’d kill without hesitation. The warden said he was arrested with an ancient Colt and a stiletto. And he was unpredictable. Hendricks has no doubt he’d murder the hostages.”
Chief Collette said, “None of that surprises me.” He looked through the thick trees toward the medical building. “We know we can’t let Duvall go free, no matter what happens. Any ideas?”
49
Savich said, “Chief, you know Duvall had to be in pain from his gunshot wound by the time he got in there, his only hope that Dr. Hodges could fix him up and he’d get out of there fast. The first thing he’d have asked for is some pain meds, morphine from the doctor’s medical cabinet, once the doctor started treating his wound. It would have been enough to make him woozy, and that gives us a chance. Chief, do you have plans to the building?”
Collette nodded. “Marvin brought them over. They’re in my patrol car. I’ll show you.”
Collette took the rolled-up plans from a young man with oversize glasses falling down his nose, thin as a Popsicle stick, his uniform perfectly pressed. Collette said, “This is Marvin, my right hand, young enough to keep my brain on track. He’s the one who thought to bring the plans.” Collette spread them out on top of his Crown Vic. Sherlock pointed at a small electrical room. Savich nodded, but he wasn’t looking at that. He stepped back and stared at the medical building. Sherlock opened her mouth to ask him what he was thinking when Chief Collette laid three photographs on top of the plans.
“Here are the hostages. This is Teddy, the young idiot who wanted to play cowboy. This is Dr. Milton Hodges, an older man who’s not so spry anymore, near retirement, but still a good doctor. And this is his new nurse, Jenny Connors. She’s twenty-six, married two months, husband’s an EMT.”
Savich said, “Make sure to circulate those photos to the SWAT team when they arrive.”
“Will do. You put out the BOLO, so Duvall is part of an FBI case? What can you tell me?”
Sherlock said, “Duvall was hired to murder a witness, a loose end, if you will, and got himself shot instead. We don’t know how badly he was wounded, only that there was a lot of blood.”
Savich said, “We need to speak to Eliza, your negotiator.”
Chief Collette introduced the three of them to Sergeant Eliza Crumb. They saw she topped out at no more than five feet tall on a good day. The Kevlar vest she was wearing over her black turtleneck made her look like a tough sort of dumpling. She was remarkably pretty, with big liquid gray eyes, and when she spoke, she sounded six feet tall. She said right away to all of them, “I keep trying to engage him, but he either screams at me or curses up a blue streak and hangs up. He claims he didn’t shoot anyone, says it was a warning. I heard a woman’s scream, and it had to be Jenny Connors. He sounds drugged up to his eyeballs but he still knows what he’s doing. Guys, I’m scared he’s going to lose it if anything sets him off.”
Savich said, “Do you think you could call him again? I’d like to hear his voice.”
Eliza set her cell to speaker, punched in the number, and drew a deep breath, slowly letting it out. She nodded to Savich and said, “Mr. Duvall, we were all concerned when we heard Jenny scream and you fired off that shot. Are you sure Jenny’s all right? Are Dr. Hodges and Officer Janko all right?”
“Shut up about her. Ain’t none of your business what I do with these yahoos.”