TailSpin - Catherine Coulter [109]
“Poor Agent Tomlin can,” MacLean said.
Ten minutes later, Savich and Sherlock went inside the small hospital security room near the front entrance. There were twelve video screens, ten of them running live feeds from cameras at locations inside the hospital.
Chief Hayward said, “We’ve got a camera at the entrance to the hospital, one camera on each floor. I asked Fritz to pull up two tapes of where the assailant would have had to walk to get to Dr. MacLean’s room.”
Fritz said, “I couldn’t locate the assailant coming into the hospital. I will have to look earlier. This tape is from Dr. MacLean’s floor.”
They all watched the screen. Chief Hayward said, “Stop. Look, that must be him, the guy in surgical scrubs, a mask over his face, and a cap on his head. If it was during the day, someone would have wondered who the hell he was since no one wears a mask in the hallway. There’s no reason for that. He’s also wearing surgical gloves, so no fingerprints. Sorry about the quality of the film, but we should be able to make him out okay.”
They watched the man walk toward the camera. He turned a corner just past the nurses’ station and disappeared.
“Okay,” Chief Hayward said. “Fast-forward, Fritz.”
“Stop, there he is,” Savich said a couple of seconds later.
Fritz froze the screen.
Sherlock said, “Okay, three minutes have elapsed and here he comes. And she thought, It took so little time. In three minutes Timothy could have been killed. She said, “He’s walking really fast, and he’s holding his arm. There’s blood seeping through his fingers. He’s got his head down. About all I can say so far is he isn’t fat.”
“He’s still got the mask and cap on,” Fritz said. “Bummer.”
They watched him until he disappeared.
Chief Hayward said, “Okay, let’s see if he leaves through the front. Roll the other tape, Fritz.” The film sped up, then slowly, Fritz brought it back to real time.
Chief Hayward said, “Stop, Fritz, you got him. I think that’s him—the timing’s about right, five minutes have passed. He looks about the same size, same build, and the loose clothes.”
The man on the film was wearing a watch cap pulled low on his forehead, touching the rims of dark sunglasses. He was wearing loose blue jeans, a large pale blue shirt that hung outside his pants, a baggy off-white linen jacket, and moccasins. For an instant, they were looking directly at his face, only they couldn’t see him clearly.
Chief Hayward said, “He’s still walking slowly and you can tell he’s favoring his arm. It’s gotta hurt like a bear. One of my men found a couple drops of blood on the floor of Dr. MacLean’s corridor and marked the spot for you. It doesn’t necessarily have to be our guy, but it’s likely.”
Savich said, “His blood will nail him when we catch him. He took a big chance, walking right up to Agent Tomlin, shoving that needle in his neck, knowing the nurses’ station wasn’t more than thirty feet away. I’d say he’s really motivated, determined, maybe really angry.”
They watched him walk out of the front entrance of the hospital. Chief Hayward said, “We didn’t catch the guy coming into the hospital. He must have scoped out the camera locations, learned the hospital layout, all the particulars. He’s not stupid. He came late, the optimum time. Sorry, but we don’t have any outdoor cameras.”
“It’s something,” Sherlock said. “Thank you, Chief. I’d say someone is more than motivated, more than just angry. I’d say they’re obsessed.”
Savich said, “We’ll get you some photos of all the players we know of so your people can show them around. We might get lucky.”
Chief Hayward nodded, but he didn’t look hopeful. “This guy is careful. But maybe someone saw him near the OR. All I can say with any certainty is that he’s about average height, average build, and wears really loose clothes.”
Sherlock nodded. “Fritz, can you rewind it again?”
When he did, she said, “Okay, now watch. I’m thinking he looks young, too. Watch him walk, the way he moves.”
“Freeze that frame, Fritz,” Chief