Chapter 2 - The Cloudy Vial
Martha pressed her back against the tiled wall.
She watched Dr. Vance approach the tub with measured steps.
Maxwell did not protest, but his jaw clenched tightly.
Martha knew what standard nerve treatments looked like.
They were clear liquids, usually vitamin complexes or mild steroids.
The substance in Vance's syringe was thick and murky.
It looked exactly like a chemical compound designed to suppress motor function.
Someone was intentionally keeping the boss of the Rourke syndicate in a wheelchair.
Dr. Vance tapped the needle and prepared an alcohol swab.
"Who is this?" the doctor asked, noticing Martha for the first time.
Maxwell leaned back against the porcelain.
"The new cleaning girl."
"Miss Delaney sent her up with towels."
Dr. Vance narrowed his eyes at Martha's soaked apron.
"You can leave now," Vance commanded.
Martha nodded quickly and turned toward the door.
She needed to get out before her medical training forced her to intervene.
As she reached the hallway, a heavy hand grabbed her shoulder.
It was one of Maxwell's armed bodyguards.
"The doctor wants you to stay," the guard growled.
He shoved her back into the steamy bathroom.
Dr. Vance was looking at the way Martha had arranged the medical supplies on the counter earlier.
"Only a trained nurse organizes saline and gauze in a sterile triangle," Vance noted softly.
He turned the needle away from Maxwell and pointed it toward Martha.
"Why is a trained medical professional scrubbing toilets in this house?"
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Vance took a step toward her, his thumb resting on the plunger of the syringe.
"Let's find out how much you really know," Vance whispered.
