Truth at Metro General Hospital - Part (1/3)

Constable Jackson and Constable Jenny returned to Metro General Hospital.

There were too many questions that needed to be asked. To many what ifs and what nots that could not be solved instantly. However, they believe there was only one person who can answer everything in a single sitting. They were on the way through the prison ward section of the hospital to find him.

“Circles,” Jackson muttered as he tugged on his fedora. “Frank Tucker has been pulling our chains around in circles. I’ve had enough.”

Jenny rushed ahead of her partner, trying to slow his marching. “Don’t do anything rash. Even right now, we can’t jump to conclusions.”

“Look, Jenny jeans. Listen.” Jackson patted his partner on the shoulder, but she shrugged it off “This guy has taken us for a loop, making us believe he was a victim of a dead wife slayed by a sadistic serial killer. From day zero to now, he fooled us with crocodile tears.” He clenched his jaw, muscles rippling in his cheek. “What pushes my buttons the most – anyone’s buttons really – is the fact his wife was alive while he waved around another woman’s dead body to pity them. I am in no mood to pull my punches.”

“There are still too many questions we need to clear up!” Jenny retorted, pushing Jackson back to make her point. “If you rush in without a plan, he could turn the table and make him look more the victim!”

“Oh I have a plan of attack alright.” Jackson tugged on his fedora, down over his forehead with a leer. “Attack.”

“NO!”

Jenny ended up being dragged by Jackson as he marched onward, grabbing a security card from the hospital ward officer. They eventually stopped in front of Room Nr-B2. Without hesitation, Jackson swiped his card through the reader and pushed the door open.

Beep

“Frank Tucker! You better have a good lawyer cuz—SWEET JESUS!”

“Jackson what’s wron—MR. TUCKER!”

Frank Tucker dangled from the ceiling. His noose was his bed sheets and blankets tied together, hooked around an overhead railing used for machines to lift heavy weight patients. The constables stared as he swung to and from, face turning blue. A look of resign.

“Jenny here!” Jackson whipped out his Swiss Army tool and tossed it over to Jenny. It bounced in her cold hands until her fingers squeezed around the handle, ejecting the blade out.

Together, Jackson lunged over to grip and lift Frank Tucker by the legs while Jenny jumped onto the bed to start cutting the bed sheet noose. The husband gasped back to life, and started to violently thrash about. He threw a kick into Jackson’s gut and slapped Jenny with the back of his hand. After what felt like an eternity of desperate kicking and screaming, Jenny was able to cut the bed sheets!

Jackson flipped over to pin Frank Tucker onto the ground, using his weight as a restraint. “YO WHAT’S THE DEAL MAN!?”

“The warden told me...Sarah is...I...” Frank Tucker, trapped and helpless, could do nothing but cry. Thick tears drip down his face as he wailed. “Let me die. I failed to protect Sarah. She’s dead because of me. Please, just let me join heeer.”

“...Two women are dead.” Jenny climbed down the bed and knelt next to Jackson as he pinned Frank Tucker on the floor. She shook her head, rubbing one hand on her knee. “How many more will die because of how selfish you have been? This isn’t about affairs or insurance fraud. This is murder, TWO murders. Do you really believe you can easily walk away from all this?”

Jackson and Frank Tucker fell silent. They stared at Jenny, who was waving around the Swiss Army knife. She didn’t realize it, until she noticed their stares. The constable clapped the blade back inside, cleared her throat and looked at Frank Tucker right in the eyes.

“Please, tell us. Did you kill Sarah Tucker, for real?”

“NO! Never! It...it was all just an accident.”