Chapter 3 - The Sound of Truth
Officer Ramirez re-entered the room. Dr. Shah handed him the plastic evidence bag containing the small, black device.
"The patient had this concealed on her person," Dr. Shah stated, her voice tight with professional outrage. "She indicates it contains audio of the assault."
Ramirez looked from the bag to me. His demeanor had shifted. The skeptical cop who had listened to Evan's tearful story was gone. In his place was an investigator who had just found the smoking gun.
"Ma'am, do I have your permission to listen to this?" he asked gently.
I blinked once. Hard.
Ramirez stepped into the corner of the room, unsealed the bag, and plugged a small set of standard-issue earbuds into the device's port. He pressed play.
For three minutes, the room was silent except for the rhythmic beeping of my heart monitor.
I watched Ramirez's face.
I watched his jaw clench. I watched his eyes widen. I saw his hand drift instinctively toward the radio on his shoulder.
Though I couldn't hear the audio, I knew exactly what was playing in his ears.
“Where is it, Evan?”
“You stupid bitch. You really thought you could just audit me?”
“Handle your wife, Evan.”
The sound of shattering glass. The sickening thud of my body hitting the wall. My desperate, choked gasps for air. Evan's grunts of exertion. Diane’s chilling, calm voice telling him to make sure it looked like self-defense before calling the cops.
Ramirez pulled the earbuds out. He looked at me, his eyes full of a grim, apologetic understanding.
"Dr. Shah," Ramirez said, his voice dropping an octave. "I need you to lock this door. Do not let anyone in. Especially not the husband."
He keyed his shoulder mic. "Dispatch, this is Unit 4. I need backup at Memorial Hospital, ER Room 3. Requesting two additional units for a double 10-15."
Arrest.
Through the glass of the ER room, I saw Evan pacing the hallway. He looked up, catching my eye again. The smug confidence was completely gone, replaced by a twitching, frantic paranoia.
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He didn't know what Ramirez had listened to, but he knew the narrative was slipping from his grasp.
Diane placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, still playing the doting mother. She didn't realize the trap had already snapped shut.
