Chapter 5
You're Who?
Damian waited in the examining room.
He admitted it felt good to be in a warm building, the chill from the
airport to the taxi was agonizing to his injury. Isler had admitted
him, then left to check in with the local police. A nurse had brought
him to what looked like a typical emergency examining room, except
cleaner than an American one.
After what seemed like twenty
minutes, a doctor came in. “Herr Tyler, is it?”
Damian was amazed at how many people
spoke English in Switzerland. “Yes it is.”
“You had a ski injury, I see. May I
look?” As if he had not even asked, he looked at Tyler's leg and
felt it. Damian winced. “This needs to be rebound and you need to
move less.”
“Look, Inspector Isler will be back
soon. We're working together to find someone. I can't just stay
here.”
The doctor smiled a little.
“Inspector Isler said to keep you overnight if need be.”
“What?!” Damian shouted and got
to his feet. “No, that can't be! I have to get out of here and
now!”
“I see. What authority do you have
in Bern?”
That stopped Damian somewhat. “Well,
I don't.”
“Well, my authority is this
hospital and as that authority, I am ordering you to stay.”
It seemed decided, and Damian had
learned in a short time just how little say he had in his situation.
Within minutes he was taken to a room and put into a bed. After the
nurses left him, he laid back to think about what had happened. It
was indeed a mess. Whitney was nowhere to be found and Raven...he had
said a prayer for him last night before settling to sleep, what
little he had of it. He regretted bothering her all those times at
the Whitney mansion, trying to get her to his side. For all he knew,
he had planted the seed of doubt in her and may have gotten her
killed. She had apparently sent him a letter, but he hadn't gotten
one. Sky most likely took it and destroyed it.
An hour later, the doctor returned
with a nurse and his leg was bound, a bit looser this time. “The
inspector told me he would be here tomorrow morning to get you. There
is nothing you could do on your case today since he is getting
settled in his new office. So, you may as well be comfortable and
rest.”
“Nothing I can do about it, I
guess. Can I at least have a newspaper?”
The doctor frowned. “I am not sure
if we have an English newspaper. Can you read French?”
“Only a few phrases, mostly ones I
wouldn't use in mixed company.”
“Pardon me?”
“Never mind. I can read German
well, though.”
The doctor smiled widely. “Well
there we can certainly help you! The nurse will bring a newspaper
when you get your lunch.”
Damian thanked him and they left. He
drifted to sleep, images of Bobbie Gerard and Raven floating
together, both being killed by an angry Sky Whitney, with Damian
frozen and unable to stop him. He woke up with a sweaty start and
immediately sat up. A nurse was looking at him. “Herr Tyler, are you
all right?”
“Fine!” He felt testy, partially
because he didn't like being stared at by strangers. He relaxed a bit
when he saw she had brought a tray of eggs and rosti (hash browns)
along with a newspaper. He ate it all, surprised at how hungry he
was. He then turned to the newspaper and relaxed as he read the
national news. It took about ten minutes before he saw the bulletin
on Sky Whitney. He smiled. At least Whitney was on the European
radar. But Damian also knew that Whitney could go anywhere easily
with his money. He hoped for the life of him that the man didn't.
He then thought of Gavin Wylie. The
hunt for Whitney meant that Wylie was off the hook. It had taken five
months to get it done, but Wylie's fears of jail were gone. Tyler had
to admit that Whitney set it up well, he was just too paranoid for
his own good.
As he turned the page, the door
opened slightly. He looked to see a dark haired male quickly look in
and then went back out casually. He was about to go back to the
newspaper when he had a quick camera flash in his mind. The face
looked familiar somehow. Was the man lost? He got up and took his
crutch. The leg did feel better already. Without a hurry, he left the
room and looked up and down the hall. No sign of anyone. He thought
for a moment, yes, the man was wearing a red robe. He walked for a
bit, finding a small pharmacy. He looked in. Yes, the man was at the
counter. He respected the man's privacy. He seemed to be holding his
head as it trying to massage a headache away.
The man turned and Damian turned
away. When the man came out he went right past Damian. Damian froze.
He saw the face briefly, but the hair was quite different, parted in
the middle, and there was a full beard. He shook his head. It had to
be his brain on overload. He briefly followed the man to his room,
noted the number and made his way back to his own bed.
After another nap, Damian awoke to
darkness. He found a switch by his bed and a small light came on.
That man still nagged at him, the likeness. A few minutes later, the
nurse who brought his food brought in another tray. He checked the
clock. It was 6:30p.m.
She asked cheerily. “How are you
feeling, Herr Tyler?”
“Fine, better. Nurse, who is in
room 303?”
She hesitated. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, someone popped in here earlier
and I, well, I followed him.”
The nurse's eyes widened. “You got
out of bed?”
“Yes. Look, my leg is feeling
better, so I-”
The nurse shook her head. “No, no,
the doctor ordered you to stay in bed!”
Damian felt anger boiling. “Look,
I got back in bed, all right? Just tell me, who is the man in room
303?”
The nurse looked at him carefully.
“We do not know.”
“You don't know?”
“All I can say is, he came here
three years ago with a very bad injury and no identification.”
“That's a long time in a hospital.
I hope he can afford the bill.”
“That is none of your concern.”
An hour later, Damian got up, his
leg feeling even better after a light dinner and pain medication. He
got the crutch and hobbled out easier this time. In the corridor, he
walked toward room 303. He didn't know why he was so curious, maybe
it was just boredom. But there was something about the man...
As he was about to knock on the
door, he heard, “Hallo. Kann ich ihnen helfen?”
Damian turned and saw the man. The
eyes, the hair...it was Schuyler Whitney! “Whitney!”
The man looked curiously at him.
“You speak English?”
“You know damn well I do! How did
you get here?”
The man shook his head in confusion.
“We have never met. But, you called me Whitney. Strange.”
“Why is it strange?”
“Because you are the first person
to acknowledge who I am since I've been here. Well, except for two
people.”
Damian was about to retort, then
stopped himself. No, in two days, Sky Whitney couldn't grow a full
beard. The eyes held no angry arrogance, more of scared curiosity.
“I'm sorry, you look very much like someone I know, a man named
Schuyler Whitney.”
The man's eyes widened and he
nodded. “That's my name!” He stopped and narrowed his eyes.
“Where are you from? The states?”
“Yes, I'm a detective from
Monticello.”
“Monticello! That's where my double
lives!”
Damian sighed in exhaustion. “I
don't understand any of this.”
The man nodded. “I can see that.
We're in the same club.”
