Chapter 2: The Sky Has Fallen

Chapter 2

The Sky Has Fallen

Damian Tyler did not know how he had wound up in a hospital bed. His eyes barely open, a sea of gray, along with a mix of female and male voices speaking in German. What the hell happened? Last thing I remember is skiing away from Whitney’s cabin. Then, nothing. Wait, not nothing. It was a hard shove I felt, then my ankle was on fire. It wasn’t a tree. Then he remembered the look on Whitney’s face when he left, it was of controlled rage. He was trying to stop me! But if that was a murder attempt, he’s getting sloppy. But how did I get here?

The gray slowly cleared into hazy forms, then cleared instantly. A nurse was getting a hypodermic ready. He tried to quickly sit up, but the pain from his right ankle caught on fire and he winced in agony. “What are you doing?

“Something for the pain, that is all.”

He nodded. The pain blocked the sting of the hypo well. “Where am I?”

“A hospital in St. Moritz. One of the ski guides brought you here. You are very lucky. Even bundled for the Swiss weather, you could have frozen to death.”

At that moment, a man entered, presumably a doctor. “Ah, I have some good news for you. You ankle is not broken, it is just a bad sprain.”

This time, Damian could sit up, albeit slowly. “Great. I need to get out of here!”

“Oh no, that is not a good idea.”

“Look, doctor, I have to find some people.”

The doctor half-smiled. “Girls?”

“Well, yeah, one girl, and she’s in danger”

“Explain, please.”

Damian’s impatience was showing. “Look, I don’t have time to sit here and explain the whole story, but there’s a married couple visiting from Monticello named Whitney. I’m from Monticello as well. Mr. Whitney is a suspect in a murder and if we don’t find them, Mrs. Whitney may be his next victim!”

The doctor nodded sympathetically. “I understand, but the first order of business is your ankle healing.”

“Doctor! I can’t just sit-“

“Oh yes you can. Nurse, get him into his room immediately. Tie him down if he doesn’t sit still.” He smiled at Damian. “Health first, Herr-..”

“Tyler. Damian Tyler, I’m a police detective from the States.”

“Do you need to talk to the local police?”

“I don’t think it would be a good idea. You see, I’m here unofficially and I didn’t bring proof to justify extraditing Mr. Whitney…at least not until I talk to my boss.”

The doctor nodded gravely. “This is what you do. Get to bed and call your superiors. When all is in order I will bring Inspector Isler in, he is a friend of mine.”

An hour later, after Tyler was in less pain after the injection, he placed a call to Derek Mallory. “Hello Chief!”

“Tyler, what’s going on over there?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I’ve sustained a ski injury.”

Derek’s annoyance was clear before he even spoke. “Great! Just what this investigation needed!”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. In fact, I think we can tie the noose around Whitney’s neck.” He recounted the visit with Sky and the brief phone conversation with Raven as well as the ski incident. “So this trip was justified. I wish I’d made a copy of that letter to show him, the arrogance might have died right then and there. Now the trick is to find them again. I think Sky might try to kill Raven.”

Derek gasped. “Why?”

“She found the shoe. She’s not dumb, Chief, and he knows that. In fact, I think the reason for this trip was to find a private place to kill her.”

“All right, look. I’m calling Mike Karr in a minute. We’ll see if we can send the file and an extradition order to the Swiss police quickly.”

“Right. I don’t think they’ll take my word for it without an official order. So long, Chief.”

He laid back, exhaustion taking over. He did not know how long he had been out, but when he woke up, the sky was completely dark in the window., and a single light was on the ceiling, a very faint glow probably designed to relax patients. Damian, however, did not know how to relax. It was an alien feeling for him, especially since his father Fowler Wilcox died. Upon awaking, he was immediately stressed out. He looked for a clock, finally finding one on the wall. He squinted to see…it was 7:22p.m. Four hours! He looked for a button, but saw none, so he yelled, “Nurse! Doctor!”

It took less than ten seconds for the flying nun-like nurse to enter. “Ah, you are awake! Is everything all right?”

“No! I mean, yes, my ankle seems better, but I need to get out of here. Those people I mentioned, I need to find them and fast!”

“Impossible, Herr Tyler. The doctor has ordered bed rest for you for at least two days!”

“NO!! I need to get out!”

“Excuse me, nurse,” Tyler and the nurse turned their attention to a harried older man in a white winter suit. “I need to speak to Detective Tyler alone.”

The nurse glared at him. “Who are you?”

The man showed his ID. “Inspector Isler, St. Moritz Police.” The nurse acquiesced immediately and left. Tyler mused silently the weight of police badges in Switzerland.

Isler took a chair from the corner and brought it next to Damian’s bed. “I hear you were injured.”

“Just slightly. These people make it out to be like cancer.”

Isler nodded. “It can be in the Alps. Now, my office has received paperwork from your country.”

Damian's eyes widened. “Extradition orders?”

“Ja. For a Herr Schuyler Whitney.”

“Great! Do you have him?”

Isler sadly shook his head. “Nein. It is, how do you say, a funny thing. Herr Whitney alerted the police today as to a disappearance. He and his wife took a skiing excursion this afternoon and she went far ahead of him, most likely due to over-waxed skis. Herr Whitney says, however, that she was an inexperienced skier. Maybe she was an inexperienced waxer also.”

Damian shook his head He was too late, he couldn’t save Raven! But as sad as he was, his anger was still stronger. “No, Inspector! I think the overwaxer is Mr. Whitney.”

Isler shrugged. “Who can prove that? Mrs. Whitney is nowhere to be found…yet. We are beginning our official search tomorrow morning, first light. When we find her, if she is alive, we will know what really happened.”

“And if we don’t find her?”

Isler shrugged again. “We have the extradition papers for Herr Whitney. I am sure your questions will get the truth out of him regarding his wife.” He cleared his throat. “What I want to know is, why you came to Switzerland without the papers yourself.”

“Inspector, I was working on a strong theory regarding the murder of Mr. Whitney’s former servant. Another man went to jail and is about to stand trial for it. I wanted to confront Mr. Whitney with, well, my theory.”

Isler shook his head. “You confronted this man with your theory?”

“I did.”

“Tell me in brief what you believe happened.”

“I believe that Mr. Whitney’s servant Gunther Wagner was blackmailing his boss over something, maybe a business deal or something. Mr. Whitney also had problems with another employee, a dance instructor named Gavin Wylie, who was supposed to train his girlfriend Jodie for a big dance show that was premiering. Wylie instead helped Jodie to quit the dance company. Mr. Whitney devised a plan to kill Gunther and frame Gavin Wylie for it.”

“How did he do that?”

“Gavin had a gun, and Gunther filled it secretly one night with blank cartridges, then later arranged to confront Gavin. When Gavin pulled out his gun in defense, Gunther started a struggle and made the gun go off. He used fake blood to scare Gavin who dropped the gun and ran off. After that, Whitney came in, put live ammunition in Gavin’s gun and killed Gunther for real. Gavin went on the run for 2 months before he was caught.”

Isler nodded. “Quite a story. Where is your evidence that Herr Whitney did the killing?”

“I found out through an undercover assignment that Gunther had bought blank cartridges shortly before he died. Also, Gunther sent a letter to his ex-girlfriend that his boss hired him to play a joke on a guy in town.”

Isler stared at Damian. “And you came here without this evidence to convince Herr Whitney to confess? To return to Monticello? Sloppy police work, Herr Tyler! If Herr Whitney had filed a complaint for harassment, you would now be in jail.” He then lightened his tone. “However, that was not the case, so here we are.”

Damian thought about it. Yeah, this trip was sudden, and if Chummy Davis hadn't tried to kill him, he wouldn't even be here. “You're right, I should have come prepared with that letter. The evidence of the blank cartridges was destroyed, though. I was the only one to see it.”

Isler looked at his papers. “The extradition covers two crimes, I see. Another murder?”

Damian grinned. “By chance I got wind of that. A missing shoe was the key in the other murder. Mr. Whitney killed a girl named Bobbie Gerard because she found evidence to exonerate Gavin Wylie and expose Whitney. Mrs. Whitney found the shoe in their car while they were packing for the trip to St. Moritz.”

Isler grinned himself. “You know, Herr Tyler, I think this assignment will get me the transfer I want.”

“What, to homicide?”

“No, to Bern. More real action there.”

“All right. Now, what's our next step?”

“Simply, to arrest Herr Whitney at his cabin. We told him to sit and wait for word on his wife Raven.”

Damian swung his legs over the bed's edge and attempted to stand. It was pure agony, but it was only pain, it let him know he was alive. He took a step or two, then some more. Yes, if he took it slowly, he could walk. “I want to come with you.”

Isler eyed Damian's limp. “It does not look like you'd make it past the front door.”

“Look, with all respect, I want to be with you to exercise the extradition order.”

“Herr Tyler, you look to be someone who has passion for his assignment, particularly for these people. This is regular business for me. I mean, as an officer of the law. You look like you may do harm to Herr Whitney if you saw him.”

Damian stopped and thought quickly. “I have reason to, but I promise I will be there simply to observe, then take full custody of him at the airport.”

Isler looked out from the door and spoke to supposedly the nurse. “Bringen sie mir ein Krücke!” In a minute, the nurse brought a crutch and gave it to Damian. “The doctor does not want you to move.”

Damian moved with his crutch. “Nurse, I can move.”

Isler motioned to the nurse. “Get him discharged. I need Herr Tyler to identify a suspect. Immediately!”

Isler seemed to have some pull, because within an hour, they were in a helicopter headed toward the Whitney cabin, along with the caretaker who had a key. Damian insisted on him accompanying them, just in case. When they landed, the cabin was dark. Using flashlights, they made their way to the door, albeit slowly with Damian's injury. The caretaker unlocked it and the two policemen entered. What they saw was not a total shock, though Damian was both infuriated and panicked. All of the Whitneys' belongings, luggage, clothes, anything that spoke of evidence of someone living there, was gone!

Damian turned to Isler. “He left! Without waiting for news on his wife. What does that tell you about him?”

Isler grinned slyly. “It tells me that he's now mine.”