Chapter 5 - The Glass Clinic
The 14th Street Clinic was a dingy two-story brick building nestled between an abandoned laundromat and a discount liquor store. The front windows were covered in steel mesh, and a faded neon sign flickered weakly against the midnight rain.
Dr. Julian Vance was not a man who looked like he had sworn an oath to save lives. When Tony kicked the back door off its hinges, we found Vance sitting at a laminate desk under buzzing fluorescent lights, counting stack after stack of hundred-dollar bills.
"What is the meaning of—" Vance started, reaching toward an open drawer.
Bruno leaped over the desk, slamming his front paws into the doctor's chest. The chair flipped backward, sending Vance crashing to the linoleum floor, money fluttering around him like green leaves in a storm. Bruno stood directly over him, his jaws dripping salivating foam inches from Vance's glasses.
"Don't move," I said, walking into the room and stepping over the scattered cash. "If you breathe too hard, my dog will break your neck."
Vance’s face was gray with terror. "I... I don't have drugs here! The pharmacy is locked!"
"We aren't here for morphine, Doctor," Tony said, pulling the leather ledger from his coat and slamming it onto the desk. "We’re here for the compound you mixed for Victor Harlan three days ago. The one that puts a child’s heart into a coma."
Vance swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he held them flat against the floor to keep Bruno from snapping. "I... I don't know what you're talking about—"
"My dog smelled the poison on the child while she was lying in her coffin," I said, kneeling down beside Vance's ear. "He knew she was alive before her own father did. If that child suffers any permanent brain damage because that poison stays in her system too long, I will personally feed you to Bruno, piece by piece."
"The safe!" Vance shrieked, pointing a shaking finger toward a small metal safe tucked under the corner cabinet. "Combination is 14-32-09! The blue vial on the top shelf! It’s atropine mixed with a synthetic reversal agent! It clears the nerve block!"
Tony moved quickly, spinning the dial on the safe and swinging the heavy door open. He pulled out a small glass vial containing a clear liquid, along with a sealed syringe.
"Got it, Boss," Tony said, checking the label.
"Call St. Jude's," I ordered. "Tell the trauma chief we have the exact compound formula and the reversal agent. Tell them Don Moretti is bringing it in five minutes."
Tony pulled out his radio and rushed back out to the car.
I looked down at the disgraced doctor lying on the floor. "You took an oath to heal, Vance. Instead, you sold coffins to living children."
"Harlan threatened me!" Vance pleaded. "He said he’d burn my clinic down!"
"You should have let him burn it," I replied coldly.
May you like
I clicked my fingers, and Bruno backed off the doctor's chest, stepping smoothly to my side. I didn't shoot Vance. I didn't need to. The ledger in Tony's pocket contained enough evidence of illegal narcotics distribution and fake death certificates to put Vance in a federal cage for the rest of his natural life.
"Stay on the floor," I told him as I turned toward the exit. "If you get up before the federal agents arrive, Bruno comes back."
