Brooke Hastings. An “actress” taking the name of hubby’s stock-and-fertilizer company. Kruvinski’s joke—had she known to what he was comparing her?
Family joke, Junior using the same name for the institute he’d supposedly attended during the year between residencies, the year after he’d left the University of Washington.
I finished the rest of the articles. No mention of the first wife, the doctor son, or any other relatives. Ending with Big Micky’s health problems, enough pathos to gag a talk-show junkie.
Where was the old man, now? Moved down to L.A., so Junior could take care of him? In the big house on Mulholland, hidden behind gates?
But no kidney function meant dialysis. Equipment, monitoring.
A home clinic?
Was that where Anna the nurse had driven, the night I saw her in the car with Locking?
Private nurse for a very private patient?
Junior doctoring Senior . . .
But Junior was a gynecologist. Was he qualified?
A gynecologist who’d started out to be a surgeon.
Why had he left the U of Washington residency program?
And how had he filled the year?
I returned home and phoned Seattle.
The head of the surgery residency program was a man named Arnold Swenson but his secretary told me he was new to the job, having arrived the year before.
“Do you recall who the head was fourteen years ago?”
“No, because I wasn’t around, either. Hold on, let me ask.”
Seconds later an older-sounding woman came on.
“This is Inga Blank, how may I help you?”
I repeated the question.
“That would be Dr. John Burwasser.”
“Is he still in practice?”
“No, he’s retired. May I ask what this is concerning?”
“I’m working with the Los Angeles Police Department on a homicide case. We’re trying to get information on one of your former residents.”
“A homicide case?” she said, alarmed. “Which resident?”
“Dr. Milan Cruvic.”
Her silence was worth more than words.
“Ms. Blank?”
“What has he done?”
“We’re just trying to find out some background information.”
“He was only in the program briefly.”
“But you remember him well.”
More silence. “I can’t give out Dr. Burwasser’s number, but if you leave me yours, I’ll give him the message.”
“Thank you. Isn’t there something you can tell me about Dr. Cruvic?”
“I’m sorry, no.”
“But you’re not surprised that the police would be interested in him.”
I heard her throat clear. “Very little surprises me nowadays.”
Not expecting any return call and figuring Milo was still with Barone, I got into jogging clothes and prepared to sweat off the frustration.
The phone rang just as I closed the door behind me and I rushed back into the house and caught it before the service picked up.
“Dr. Delaware.”
“This is Dr. Burwasser,” said a dry, testy voice. “Who are you?”
I started to explain.
“Sounds fishy,” he said.
“If you’d like, I can have Detective Sturgis call you—”
“No, I’m not wasting any time on this. Cruvic was with us for under a year, fourteen years ago.”
Not around fourteen. Brief but memorable?
“Why’d he leave?” I said.
“That’s no one’s business.”
“It will be soon. He was intimate with a woman who was murdered and he’s a possible suspect. The more effort it takes to get the information, the more public it’ll be.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Not at all, just a statement of fact, Dr. Burwasser. Did Cruvic do something to disgrace the surgery program?”
Instead of answering, he said, “I’m not impressed by murder, seen plenty of things in my day.”
“What did Dr. Cruvic do?”
“He never murdered anyone here.”
“Did he murder someone somewhere else?”
“No, of course not—is this being taped?”
“No.”
“Not that it matters, nothing I tell you is libelous because it’s true, all on the record.”
“Exactly,” I said.
He didn’t answer.
“What’d he do, Dr. Burwasser?”
“He stole.”
“From whom?”
“That I will not tell you because the dead are entitled to their dignity.”
That took a moment to process. “He stole from a corpse?”
“Tried to.”
“How much?”
He laughed shallowly, as if needing the release. “Hard to say, the market varies.”
“Jewelry?”
“Of sorts.” Another laugh. “Family jewels. Organs. We caught the little bastard trying to remove a heart. The only problem was, the donor wasn’t quite dead.”