The Symbiotic Protocol - Chapter 15 (An Original Novella)
The hospital doors slid open for Drucker and Doug to escape from out of the pouring rain. They patted down their drenched overcoats after the hurried sprint from their car in the parking lot. A faint scent of disinfectant pervaded their nostrils as they made their way to the receptionist front desk. An enthusiastic and bright-eyed young girl in her early twenties greeted them from behind the spotless white table. “What can I do for you two gentlemen?” she asked flirtatiously as Doug manoeuvred himself just in front of Drucker.
“We’re here from downtown and looking for a Mrs. Collimore. You wouldn’t happen to know in what ward she is, would you?” He proceeded to pull a faded leather wallet from out of his long grey trench coat pocket and flipped it open for her, displaying a silver police badge for identification. She squinted at it closely for inspection before breaking out into a radiant smile. “That’s fine gentlemen. You see that elevator on the left down the corridor?” She gestured with a small index finger indicating its general direction. “Just hop on into that and she’ll be on the fourth floor in the “Charles” ward.” Doug looked at her inquisitively. “Any specific room number or location in the ward exactly?” She examined a sheet of A4 paper on a lower desk that was just out of Doug’s line of sight. “Sure, that’ll be Room 9, but trust me, guys. You’ll know where she is when you get up there.”
Doug leaned in closer pressing his rather large belly against the edge of the desk and studied her name tag. “Well, thank you for your assistance, Miss. Wright. It's indeed been a real pleasure.” She smiled again, albeit with an added hint of discomfort behind it. After giving him a warm genial nod, they both departed for the elevator. Drucker huddled up to Doug. “Thanks for the show back there. Aren't you a little surprised she didn’t sprawl right into your arms and declare undying love for having found the man of her dreams. Strange, don’t you think?” Doug raised an eyebrow and shot him a snide glance. "Is that a whiff of jealousy I detect there? You know just a few more minutes and her phone number would be sitting snugly tucked up in my back pocket now.”
They arrived at the lift and Drucker pushed the button repeatedly to call it down. “I'm not trying to hurt your feelings or anything, but have you looked in the mirror lately? A gut like that must have taken years to sculpt and that’s pretty much your best asset. If you were trying to win the "Creep of the Year" award, I'd say you pretty much put in your best performance yet.” Doug pulled a bemused face that broke Drucker into a fit of laughter. “Well, you laugh for now. At least I ain’t tied down to anyone like a certain someone we both know. I’m basically a free agent and the world is my oyster. You just wait and see the little number I’m gonna snag myself when no one’s looking. Just watch this space, my friend. Anyways, you should be more concerned about getting all the information you can as Capt. Wallace has really thrown you in the deep end with this one.” A tinny chime sounded and the elevator doors opened silently.
The tiny cubicle was empty so they took their places at opposite ends. Drucker sighed deeply. “Yeah, Doug. I hear you. Maybe this is like some sort of test or something? You know, to see how well I cope under pressure and all.” Doug punched a short stubby finger into the large, circular “4” on the metallic panelling. “No way, Druck. Wallace is as intelligent and on point as they come. He knows how sensitive this case is. He wouldn’t put you on this just to see if you make the grade or not. He must really believe in you or would have referred it to another local department. In fact, I can imagine his neck being on the line just as much as yours.” Drucker stood uneasily as he took a moment to ponder that thought. “Yeah, don’t mince with words, why don’t you.” he said nervously. “I’m just saying, that’s all.” Doug replied passionately. “This is the lucky break you’ve been waiting for all this time. Make the most out of it and if everything goes well, it’ll turn out to be one of the best career moves you could have ever dreamed of. Think about that.” Drucker loved the way Doug could just defuse his mode of panic with just a few simple words of encouragement and advice. Life just wouldn’t be the same without him, he thought. “I appreciate you saying that, man. Though this gig hasn’t been officially finalised yet. I classify this as just ground work in case I get it. I’m just thankful that Wallace let you partner up with me today. Hard to believe all this started just a few hours ago?”
“Which part?” Doug asked. “You getting a shot at a straight-A case or the abduction of a child by a synthetic?” The doors parted slowly as they both stepped out into pure bedlam. A small crowd of reporters had clustered in front of a frustrated hospital security guard. A clamour of voices and camera clicks spilled out from the compressed gathering as both police officers strategically squeezed their way through the mass of activity. A cluster of elbows and clammy hands scraped and prodded at them however they eventually found the guard fighting them off by the door. “She in there?” Drucker yelled above the din. “Yes! Go on in!” he said, diligently fending off the hungry clan. Doug heaved himself red faced through a narrow gap in the wall of people. He was about to turn around to give them all a piece of his mind, but Drucker beckoned to him hastily. “Wallace said it would be like this. Said not to get involved. Told me he was sending a few of the guys over to handle it. Should be here any minute now.” They pushed the door open and barged their way through. Doug shut it firmly behind them, reducing the noise in the corridor to nothing more than a muffled hum.
Mrs. Collimore lay on a hospital bed tucked up against the centre of the far side wall. An ECG monitor flickered away noiselessly attached to an iron pole with wires streaming from it. She had a forearm wrapped in a white plaster cast and one of her legs was suspended in mid-air, confined in a metal stirrup. “Mrs. Collimore, I’m Detective Conway Drucker, this is my assistant Doug Drayfort. We have some questions in regards to…”
“Well, about goddamn time! This happened in the morning and now six hours later you finally turn up to take a statement. Is this a fucking joke? I mean, it’s only a case of my child being kidnapped, that’s all!” She scowled furiously at the two men. Doug circled round to her left and attempted to offer her some reassurance. “I do apologise for that, Mrs. Collimore. It’s been absolute chaos down at the precinct since the attack. Add to that the numerous other minor casualties that we’ve been inundated with plus the witness statements and…” Drucker thought it wise to interject before Doug jammed his foot even further up his own ass.
“Mrs. Collimore, I do understand your anger and we are sincerely sorry for taking so long to arrive here but any continued delays will mean more time wasted which would be better spent searching for your son, I'm sure you'd agree. So please may we take down your personal statement of how things transpired earlier?” He pulled up a chair resting by the bedside table and drew out a small notepad and pen. She started quietening down as he flicked open its cover. A quick press of the tiny button located at the side of the pen's clip activated the internal audio recorder. He motioned her in the politest possible manner to begin. Still looking daggers at him, she thought it best to comply with the detective and did her utmost to compose herself back to a focused state.
“Fine, Mr.?” she asked with a newfound calm. “Drucker, Mrs. Collimore.” he replied softly, pen at the ready. Doug continued to stand where he was, listening in attentively. “Well, you probably already know this but my full name is Mrs. Jane Patrick Collimore. My boy is called Nathan and he’s only 3 years old. We were out on our regular morning trek to Nightingale Elementary, which is his local kindergarten just round the corner from where we live. As is our usual weekday routine, we were going to make a stopover at Beanz café.” Drucker sporadically jotted down notes whilst urging her to carry on with a friendly nod every so often. “This is where things kind of mesh into a blur.” Not the exact response he was hoping for, but nonetheless went with it.
thnx