Page 4 of The 24th Hour

“I’m Dr. Washburn. Can you show me where you hurt?”

Yuki grabbed a towel from a stack on a nearby bench and covered the young woman’s body as I asked Ms. Hayes, “How do you know this man?”

Finally, she looked at me. “I just wanted to use the b-b-bathroom.”

“Tyler” had said he was done talking, but he was still trying to get his story out. “Listen. Sergeant. I work here. She saw me, and she followed me. Shewantedthis. Understand? This was her idea.”

“I hear sirens,” Yuki said. “And Cindy’s heading up.”

I sighed. Cindy is an investigative crime reporter, and although I love her to pieces, she’s dogged, and once she sawthis scene she’d call it news and would be working. It was the wrong time to talk to the press.

Tyler Doe spoke. “She said her name was Olivia and that I was hot.”

“No. Did not,” the woman mumbled.

“She did,” said our only suspect. “She said she wanted it hard and fast, and right now. I’m just human, Sergeant. She begged me. And another thing—”

Footsteps pounded up the stairs and two uniforms appeared; Nardone and Einhorn, both good cops I’d known for years.

“Another thing,” Tyler shouted as the two cops pulled him to his feet. “She’snuts. First, she tells me her name is Olivia. Then, it’s Loretta. Or is it Mary Elena? She lies.”

Nardone got a grip on the suspect’s shoulders while Einhorn hoisted and zipped up the man’s trousers, leaving the belt dangling.

I began opening unlocked locker doors. A jacket hanging from a hook in one of them looked like it could be Tyler’s.

I showed it to him. “Is this yours?”

He looked away from me and Nardone slapped the back of his head.

“Answer the sergeant.”

“Yes. It’s mine,” he said.

Tyler’s wallet was inside his jacket pocket. His ID told me that his full name was Tyler Richard Cates, showed him at five ten, 160, with green eyes and a Gough Street address. I said to Nardone, “Voucher this and take him to booking. I’ve charged him with aggravated assault.”

“So leave him in lockup.”

“You got it.”

As the two officers left with Cates through the rear exit, Cindy, panting from the climb, arrived in the changing room and called out to me.

“Lindsay. What happened?”

“Hey, Cindy. You know I can’t tell you.”

“Off the record?”

“Hah.”

“Okay. I know. Anyway, I’m here to tell you that our waiter needs to clear our table. There’s a cake. With candles. Oh, and here you are, Claire. We didn’t even sing ‘Happy Birthday to You.’”

Claire said, “It’s okay, Cin. Medical emergency.”

The ambulance driver appeared in the locker room with a pair of EMTs who went to Mary Elena Hayes and lifted her onto a stretcher. While Claire filled in the EMTs on her observations, I thought about what Mary Elena Hayes had told me.

“He raped us.” What had she meant by that?

Cindy sighed as the room cleared out, leaving her without a story. She put her arm around my waist.

---