Possessing Morgan:
A Matter of Conviction
by Aurelia
Part 26
See Part 1 for Disclaimers
Chapter 26
Morgan thought she was dead. Trapped in a body that felt nothing, she listened to the outside world down a long corridor. Nothing would respond, not her body nor her senses. She merely… existed. Fuzzily, sounds filtered through to her addled brain, slowly forming into words that she knew.
“How is the other woman that was brought in?”
“She was discharged yesterday. Something about going home for a while.”
“Home?”
“Yeah, back to Charleston. Back to her family.”
Andy was gone? Her mind latched onto those last few words, feeling them drive through her like a stake, striking at the very heart of her. She left me? Morgan knew she wasn’t dead. She wouldn’t be tormented like this in the afterlife.
“Wh… wh…” The redhead’s lips shifted ever so slightly, her mind trying to move an unwilling body.
“Hang on there, young lady. Don’t move.”
“And… wom…” Her mind was desperate to find out more. A bloodshot green eye emerged, looking fuzzily up at the two nurses attending to her. “What…” the whisper was barely heard over the normal environmental sounds of the hospital.
“Don’t worry. We’ve just given you something to sleep, that’s all.”
“How… long…” Why was it so hard to move? It was like she was tied to the bed.
“You’ve been sedated for three days….” Three days? Hmmm… her mind tried to comprehend that amount of time. Why couldn’t she think straight? “…to give your body time to heal. You’ve taken a severe beating.” Well, d’uh, she already knew that. She wanted them to tell her something she didn’t know, but before she could complete that broken thought her mind slipped away under the drugs.
* * *
“Hey there, partner.” A bleary eye opened to see her partner standing there with a bunch of flowers in his hand.
“Hi.” The word broke.
“And a lovely shade you are too.”
“You… know… how to make me feel better.” She was surprised that she was able to get the sentence out, considering the last time she was awake, syllables were the order of the day.
“They’ve eased up on the sedatives.” Damn the man. He seemed to be able to answer her questions lately before she even thought them.
“Thank God,” the groggy voice responded.
“I don’t know, if I looked like you do now I’d be asking for more.”
“If you’ve got nothing good to say, there’s the door.” Somehow Henry’s happy demeanor and honest comments were just downright depressing.
“So, what have you been up to?” This man was starting to seriously piss her off.
“Up to? God, Henry, I’m just not up to joking, alright?”
“Sorry…”
Aww damn. “Don’t be sorry, Chinatown,” she whispered. “You know you can say anything. I’m just a little on edge, that’s all.”
“Why? What’s bothering you… besides the obvious?”
“Nothing.” Why won’t he just say it?
“No, there’s something upsetting you. Tell me and let’s see if Uncle Henry can make it right.”
“You can’t make it right, Henry. It’s all gone.”
“Maybe I better wait a little longer until those drugs have worn off completely because I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”
“And how’s Andrea?”
“Andy?” His mind nearly seized up with the sudden switch in conversation. “Errr… she’s fine, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“She was discharged a few days ago.”
“And why hasn’t she come to see me?”
“She did.”
“I haven’t seen her.”
“Well, that was probably hard because you were out like a light with the sedatives.”
“So where is she now?” God Henry, just answer the question.
“She’s gone home.”
“Home? Damnit Henry, answer me straight. Where is she?”
“She’s back in Charleston of course.”
“Of course?” Morgan could feel herself slipping into a quiet depression.
“She told you that. Don’t you remember?”
“Of course I don’t remember! Oh God. She’s left me.” The sting from the split lip cut through her sadness, stopping her grimace in mid stream.
“She has not left you.” Henry couldn’t help but be amused at his partner’s antics.
“She’s in Charleston and I’m here. What does it look like to you?”
“Well it looks like she’s visiting her parents while you recover. But then again that’s only her opinion and mine.”
“And how do you know that?” Morgan’s interest was piqued.
“Because she told me so. She’s due back in another week, so just relax will ya?”
Morgan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but settled for something in between when her lip wouldn’t respond. Her heart was pounding and it didn’t abate even with the good news. This woman was slowly killing her. “Are you going to give me the good news?”
“These drugs are muddling your brain, Morgan. What good news?”
“What happened to me?”
“Well, let’s see. You and Andy went on a holiday together to Chang’s Noodle Factory…” The scowl stopped him, warning him to talk straight or she would strangle him with her IV line. “Okay. I’m assuming you’re talking about your injuries here, so here goes. Let’s see… black eyes, split lip, multiple contusions on the face and body, cracked cheekbone, torn abdominal muscle and damaged ligaments in your knee.”
“Anything else?” She sincerely hoped not, that list was more than enough. No wonder she felt like her body had been put through a mincer. It had. “How bad is the knee?” Morgan held her breath for his reply, praying that it was not going to give her a permanent limp.
“Well, the doctor seems confident that it’s temporary. It’ll take a while to heal but it looks like you were lucky. How did it happen?”
“The perp attacked it with a lead pipe.”
“Then you were very lucky indeed.”
Lucky. Somehow, the definition was subjective. He thought it luck, she thought it torment. Perhaps if he were in her position he would change his mind.
Finally she took in the rest of her room. A large vase sat on a small desk opposite her bed. “Who sent those?”
Henry moved over to the arrangement extracting the card perched in the petals. “Wow! What did you do to deserve this? They’re from Vaughan.”
Morgan didn’t quite know what to make of the relationship with Arthur Vaughan. She liked the old man, she really did, but his concern for her welfare was strange since they had only talked, what? Two times? Three times? Maybe he was looking for something more, for someone to talk to, for someone to be the daughter he never really had. Nah… she was just imagining it. Still, he had no need to send the flowers either.
“I have no idea. I didn’t do him any favors by arresting his daughter. Speaking of which, what’s happening with the case?”
“You really want to talk about that?”
“What else am I gonna think about in here? The weather? Politics? Who’s gonna win this year’s American Idol? Give me a break here.”
“We searched Chelsea’s apartment.”
“Find anything interesting?”
“Well, we thought it was a bust until I discovered a shoe box tucked away on the top shelf of her closet. There was a nice pair of shoes that had been hastily cleaned. Forensics got back to me today and Rose’s blood was found in the weave of the shoes. According to them, it could only have got there if she had been present at the moment of Rose’s death. She was there, Morgan, and it’s enough to indict her.”
“Has Andrea seen any of this stuff?”
“Yeah, before she left. She confirmed what we already suspected.”
Carefully, Morgan released a pent up sigh, finally glad that the case was coming to a close. “When are you seeing Chelsea Vaughan?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“I have to be there.”
“Are you nuts? Look at you Morgan! You can barely move.”
“Henry. It’s my case. I have to finish it.”
“But partner…”
“Henry, I have to be there. Can’t you understand that?”
“Yeah,” he sighed deeply, “…yeah, I can”
“Do what you have to to get me out of here. After the interrogation I’ll return here and be a good girl.” Henry doubted that Morgan was ever a ‘good girl’.
“I’ll see what I can do. The doctor is going to flip his stethoscope.”
“Probably, but I know the whole story and I want to be the one to take her down.”
“This is not about ego, Morgan.”
“Henry, the woman put a contract out on Andrea and look what happened to me. This is personal.”
“Personal is not a good position to go into this interview with.” Logic was not going to help him convince Morgan otherwise.
“I know… I know. Please, Henry, for me.”
“Damn you woman.” How could he refuse her?
* * *
Morgan thought she had known every pain there was, but this was one that sat above them all. Red starbursts illuminated the darkness behind her eyelids with each movement of her body. Stubbornness had driven her to walk to into the station house, step by painful step up the stairs and into the lobby.
She rested on the cane, trying to take the weight off her damaged leg. Despite the brace, her knee was taking her full weight every time she walked on it.
Henry was by her side every step of the way, ready to grab her at a moment’s notice. “You want to sit down?” He murmured. “You look like you’re gonna faint.”
“Nah, I just need a moment to catch my breath.”
“You want me to get…”
“No wheelchair, you hear me?”
“Damnit it, Morgan. You are the most stubborn piece of shit I have ever met.” Henry tried to stay mad. He knew the woman was hurting. He could read it in every tensed muscle in her.
“Yeah, I love you too, bro.”
“Is this so important…?”
“Oh yeah, Chinatown.”
“No one will think any less of you if you do.”
“I will.”
“Geez, Morgan.” He shook his head as she walked away, hobbling into the squad room and stopping in front of Morelli’s desk.
“Jesus, O’Callaghan, you look like shit!” Lowenstein was shocked to see the extent of the damage done. Word had got around about O’Callaghan’s brush with death, now he could see how close she had come.
“What are you doing here?” Henry was worried. There was an interview to undertake. “You should…”
“It can wait a moment, partner.” Morgan perched her backside on the desk as it was the only piece of her anatomy that didn’t hurt like hell. Her one good eye glittered like a polished emerald, boring into the two men sitting there. “If I find out that one of you two tipped off Morelli where I was… well, the law will be the least of your troubles, you got me?”
“Why? What did he have to do with this?” Fredericks was feeling decidedly nervous.
“That prick you call a friend sat outside the building we were in, Fredericks. He sat there while I got the crap kicked out of me and the counselor was nearly strangled to death and he did nothing. Year hear me? NOTHING!!! That bastard sat in his car and smiled as a car tried to run us down. NOTHING!!! Not even a phone call to 911.” Her head ached with all the anger, frustration and pain swirling through her tired body.
“So, if I find out that he was tipped off from this office, that person…” she let her gaze shift from one man to another, “…or persons are going to get to know me up close and personal.”
“Why are you looking at us, O’Callaghan? Maybe someone else overheard Chang talking to you.”
Overheard. The word triggered a thought that had not occurred to her before.
“Sergeant…” Henry murmured. “We have an interview…”
“I know, Detective. I think I’ve made my point here.” Without another word Morgan stood and limped away, every step doggedly taken with great effort and pain.
“Was that really necessary?”
“Hell, if nothing else they won’t pee without asking permission.” She quickly looked over her shoulder at the two men desperately talking in hushed tones. “Henry, I just had a thought. I want you to check out something for me…”
* * *
“And what do you think you are doing here? Why aren’t you in hospital?”
“I have to be here, Captain. It’s my case and I’m gonna finish it.” Markham mentally took a step back at the hardened look on the woman leaning heavily on her cane.
“Is it worth the pain, Morgan?”
She moved slowly towards the Interview Room, Henry dogging her unsteady footsteps. “Oh yes,” she whispered. When they entered the room all eyes turned to see the battered woman limp into the room to take her place in a seat across from the accused, her injured leg carrying a large metallic brace for support. She looked imperiously around the room, her air of determination and dominance surrounding her enemy and pinning her in place. Morgan leaned back and turned her head to her partner. “Henry, can you please get the evidence for me? Thanks.” Her low murmur broke the silence of the room, but the deep resonance stopped anyone making out clearly what she had said.
It was now her moment of truth. The only thing that would make it perfect was Andrea by her side. “So……. Lauren.”
“Detective, I think you are mistaken…”
An angry green eye turned to the wiry lawyer. “Mr. Marks, before you start protesting, please indulge me.” He gave her a slight nod, acquiescing to her request. Morgan turned her attention back to Chelsea Vaughan. Henry arrived with a small box filled with papers and a tape recorder. “Now, Lauren, let’s get down to business.”
“My name is Chelsea Vaughan, Detective.”
“True, but you also go by the name of Lauren Stapleton, and before you ask, I’ll prove it.” The redhead sat the box in her lap, searching through the paperwork to find where to begin. “You know, your biggest mistake was to react when counselor Andrea Worthington called out your name that first day you came in to give a statement. She wasn’t sure, you know, and it would have easily been forgotten if you hadn’t decided to kill her.”
“I think you’re mistaken, Detective. I was led to believe that it was all to do with Rose’s death.”
“Now, that’s the interesting part.” Morgan injuries were quickly forgotten as she reveled in the battle of wills between the two of them. She was thoroughly enjoying holding the upper hand, painstakingly feeding out the chain of events that led to the woman’s arrest. Oh yes, she would have to be dead a week to miss this. “It was a very clever plan really…” She watched a tiny smile touch the young woman’s face. Her ego was giving her away. “… hiding one murder within another. That’s why you didn’t kill Miss Worthington right away. You wanted everyone to think that it was motivated by Rose’s death. And you nearly succeeded.” The wisp of a smile disappeared from the face, replaced with a hardened stare. “Nearly…” Morgan whispered again.
“See, we caught your first hired thug.” Steel gray eyes widened. “He revealed that Andrea was the target all along.” Well, a half-truth there… “Now, that started me thinking.” Morgan so wished she could pace but her damaged knee left her with nowhere to roam.
“Detective, what has this to do with the Vaughan case?” The lawyer was getting impatient.
“Nothing… for the present. But Miss Vaughan here has been charged with the attempted murder of myself and Miss Worthington. Mr. Marks, please keep up with the program.”
“Sergeant!” A low growl emanated from the Captain.
“Sorry. My apologies Mr. Marks.” Nothing was going to spoil her victory, not even the pedantic Mr. Marks. “But since you have brought that up, we finally managed to track down where that money went.” Morgan watched Chelsea’s face carefully, taking in the slight twitch around her mouth. She had the woman nervous.
“It took some doing though. You are a very thorough woman, Miss Vaughan.” Morgan extracted three pieces of paper, laying them out across the table for Chelsea and her lawyer to see. “But we have a very smart IT guy. He found you. If you look at the first sheet here is the transfer of those funds from your mother’s account…”
“STEP-mother.” Chelsea glared at her accuser.
Morgan’s inner child clapped with giddy glee. “… step-mother‘s account transferred to a Cayman Island account under the name of Cameron Willis.” She tapped the middle piece of paper. “Now, from there it was transferred to Hamburg to the name of Michelle Durant and…” her finger moved to the third piece of paper, “…finally back to the States to… you guessed it… Lauren Stapleton.”
“So, how does this Lauren Stapleton tie into my client?”
“Because they are both one in the same person, Counselor. It seems your client was leading a double life.”
“How do you know that, Detective?”
“Because I checked, Mr. Marks. Your client here is a very naughty girl. It seems Lauren Stapleton is a drug distributor, Sir. A rising name in the industry, so to speak.” Morgan turned her attention to Chelsea. “So when did you start, Chelsea? Back before your stint in that rehab place in England?” The blonde shifted in her chair. Morgan was nearly salivating at the discomfort she was causing. She looked directly into those eyes of steel. “I made some phone calls and found out that Miss Vaughan here bought off an orderly to say that she was in rehab all that time. In fact she became Lauren, took a flight back to the States and in a drug deal gone wrong, she was arrested in Charleston two years ago. That was where she met Miss Worthington, was it not Miss Vaughan? But, of course, then you were in disguise – dark hair and a fake Southern accent.” Her sight slipped over to her partner who was standing on the other side of the room. A subtle ‘thumbs up’ nearly caused her to break her dour demeanor.
“But you couldn’t go to jail, so you skipped bail and the country, returning to the rehab center in England to take up the mantle of Chelsea Vaughan, rehabilitated drug user.”
“Can you prove any of this?”
“Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t be out of my hospital bed about to read her her rights, Counselor.” Morgan motioned to Henry for a drink of water, not wanting her parched throat to give way at the moment of victory. The ever-present pain had been circling her like buzzards in the sky, forcing her to reach into her pocket for her medication. She popped one of the small white bullets into her mouth and allowed a moment for it to painfully slide down her throat and boil away in her stomach.
“Now, we were able to find evidence to link you to both the first hired killer and the more recent one that attacked us at the noodle factory.” Unconsciously, she raised her hand to the back of her head, feeling the gaping hole where her hair used to be. She was really pissed off about that.
“First, you paid them off with cash so it couldn’t be traced back to you. However, we managed to pick up a couple of prints off both amounts of money. So, now we had a link to Lauren… not the only one, but it was a start. Secondly, phone records from the two men led us to Lauren’s phone and ultimately Lauren’s address. You had two residences, Chelsea, one as Chelsea Vaughan and another as Lauren Stapleton.”
Morgan reached into the box extracting some photos. “Here is Lauren Stapleton entering her residence,” the photo showed a woman with dark hair and dark glasses entering a brownstone, “and here is Chelsea Vaughan departing that same residence an hour later. Sloppy, Chelsea. After all that hard work and you slipped up.”
The tall detective removed the tape recorder from the box and pressed play. “I want them dead now. You’ll find them at Chang’s Noodle Factory on Mott in Chinatown.”
“So? That doesn’t sound anything like my client.”
“But it sounds like Lauren Stapleton. Miss Worthington confirmed it was her voice.”
“But, Detective, you still haven’t connected the two.”
Morgan tried to grin triumphantly but her lip screamed at her as she stretched the stitches. “I had Lauren’s records sent from Charleston. The fingerprints of Lauren Stapleton and Chelsea Vaughan are identical. They are both one in the same woman.” Mr. Marks looked at his client who stared venomously at Morgan.
“That voice recording won’t be admissible in court, Detective. You obtained it illegally.”
Another piece of paper was slapped down on the table. “You’re wrong. Here is a warrant for that surveillance.” Morgan waited for a moment, allowing the ramifications of what she had revealed to sink in. “Oh, and by the way…” she reached into the box, extracting a small electronic device. “…here is your bug. Henry found it under my desk. I always wondered how you always knew where to find us.”
Her eye skittered over to Markham, who looked back with a strange look in his eye. A subtle smile crossed his lips as she continued to watch him. She had done good.
“Now, let’s talk about the murder of Rose McManus…”
* * *
“That was some story, Sergeant.”
“Long and complicated and she nearly got away with it. If not for the shoes in her cupboard we would have no evidence to put her at the scene, only the bank records for the transfer of the money.” Morgan was glad it was all over. Now that her mind had let go of the case all the aches and pains re-emerged. She would be glad to get back to the hospital, secure in the knowledge that Chelsea got her just deserts.
“So, why did she do it?”
“She’s not talking for the moment, but I think we can safely assume it was because of the audit Vaughan had ordered. The wife’s financial statements showed a regular transfer of money over the last three years. It was hidden in the allowance payments made by Vaughan to his wife. Always under that $50,000 limit and transferred out as soon as it went into the account. If the wife ever checked her balance she wouldn’t have known any difference. Over the last three years she had managed to siphon off over $3 million.”
“That’s a lot of spare cash. Where does Rose come into all of this?” Markham was confused.
“Unfortunately, I think she was just a means to an end. Chelsea strikes me as the sort of woman who wouldn’t share daddy’s money with an outsider. Hell, she probably had her eyes on getting rid of step-mom as well. No, it was an excuse to get rid of daddy and hopefully stop the audit from going ahead. Her thievery stood a better chance of not being discovered with an investigation into Rose’s death than killing Vaughan outright.”
“But you found out anyway.”
“Yeah. I did, didn’t I?” She smiled, the action making her cheek ache. “Owww… Gotta stop doing that.”
“You’re making me hurt just looking at you. Time to rest.”
“Yeah, I think I better.” She turned clumsily, wincing at the pain lancing through her knee.
“Well done, Sergeant. Mickey would have been proud.” He rested one large hand on her shoulder, gently patting in comfort.
Morgan looked up at him and again that strange look crossed his face. Could it be that he was proud of her? She couldn’t help but react to that thought and her chest puffed up in pride. “I hope so, Sir. I hope so.”
“Now back to hospital with you.”
“Can I ask? Have you got the results back yet?”
For a second she thought he wasn’t going to answer, his brow wrinkling in concern. Was it bad news? “Yeah. False alarm. Everything is fine.” Her face broke into a wide grin, her own hand coming up to her shoulder to rest over his dark skin.
“Good to hear,” she whispered. “Damnit!” She gently rubbed the damaged cheek.
“I’m just glad it’s all over.” He let out a huge sigh, as if exhaling the anxiety and apprehension out of his body. “Now back to the hospital young lady.” Morgan raised a tawny eyebrow. Young lady? “Gwan,” he chuckled.
“Sir, Henry deserves some credit here. He put a lot of work into this case and if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”
“He’s a good man, Sir.”
“I know, Morgan. One of the best… two of the best.” He looked directly at her, chocolate eyes praising her.
“What about Morelli?”
Markham pursed his lips, expressing his opinion on the matter. “I’m extremely disappointed with his actions. How could he fall apart like that?”
“It’s my fault.”
“Don’t go blaming yourself for this. He was always a bit of a troublemaker, Morgan, even before you arrived.”
“But I’m the one that pushed him over the edge.”
“In a way, I should thank you. I’m sorry you got hurt out of this case, Sergeant, but he could have crumbled elsewhere and someone could have died. I think it’s been coming for a long time. Perhaps it’s partly my fault, allowing this to go on as long as it did.”
“We can’t anticipate what’s gonna happen.”
“But I could, don’t you see? He wasn’t always like this. It’s been coming for a while and I did nothing.”
“Tell you what, how about we don’t play this game of ‘what if’? He’s under a psychiatrist’s care now and hopefully, in time, he’ll be back to the person you once knew.”
“Yeah, maybe he’ll even like you!” They both chuckled at the thought of such a thing. It was pure fantasy, but it was a nice thought anyway. “No, his career is over, Morgan. The best we can hope for is that the psychiatrist can get through to him while he is incarcerated.” He sobered. “Damn, I can’t believe he did that. It was just so, so… cold.”
“Yeah. You should have seen his eyes. There was nothing there, not even anger. They were... vacant.” Morgan remembered that look and wondered if Chelsea hadn’t tried to run them down whether Morelli would have tried it.
“That’s a problem to go in the ‘too hard’ basket… for now.” Markham’s eyebrows knitted together. He had been thinking long and hard about Morelli since he was told about what had happened. “Is that everything, Sergeant?”
“I think so, Sir.”
“I don’t want to see you until you’re up and about and fit to come back to work. You understand me? No shortcuts!”
“Aye, Sir.” What was she going to do with herself for all that time?
“Back to hospital with you.”
“Errr. We’re making a slight detour before going back.”
“You should be in hospital, Morgan.”
“Yeah, yeah I know but I’ve got to do something about this.” Her hand rose to her head, fingering the hacked locks.
“Ah, I see what you mean. I’m sure the hospital has its own hairdresser.”
“Yeah, they probably do.”
“I know you don’t want to go back, but it’s the best possible place for you right now. You know that. Just do what I ask… please?”
“Yes, Dad.” She softened that comment with a wide smile.
“Good girl,” he whispered back, imparting a huge grin of his own. As he turned away, he added, “I’ll come and see you soon.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” With nothing to do, she’d probably be glad for a visit from Andrea’s parents.
Feedback is always appreciated. You can contact me at aurelia_fan@yahoo.com.au