Kiss the Girls

to be psychotic at times, and almost as if she were speaking in tongues. She experienced tremors, convulsions, and signs of abdominal and muscle cramps, according to the hospital write-up reports.
    I visited with her late that afternoon. There was still concern that she had suffered brain damage. Most of the time I was in her room, she was quiet and unresponsive. Once, when she tried to speak, only a terrifying scream came out.
    The doctor in charge came by the room while I was in there. We had already talked a couple of times that day. Dr. Maria Ruocco wasn’t interested in withholding important information about her patient from me. She was extremely helpful and nice, in fact. Dr. Ruocco said she wanted to help catch whoever, or
whatever,
had done this to the young intern.
    I suspected that Kate McTiernan believed she was still being held captive. As I watched her struggle against unseen forces, I sensed that she was a terrific fighter. I found myself rooting for her in the hospital room.
    I volunteered to sit with Kate McTiernan for long stretches. Nobody fought me for hospital-surveillance duty. Maybe she would say something, though. A phrase, or even a single word, might become an important clue in the hunt for Casanova. All we needed was one clue to mobilize everything.
    “You’re safe now, Kate,” I whispered every so often. She didn’t seem to hear me, but I kept it up, anyway.
    I got an idea, an irresistible notion, around nine-thirty that night. The team of doctors assigned to Kate McTiernan had already left for the day. I needed to tell someone, so I called the FBI and persuaded them to let me call Dr. Maria Ruocco at her home near Raleigh.
    “Alex, are you still there at the hospital?” Dr. Ruocco asked when she got on the phone. She seemed more surprised than angry about the nocturnal call to her house. I had already spoken with her at great length during the day. We had both gone to Johns Hopkins and we talked a little about our backgrounds. She was very interested in the Soneji case and had read my book.
    “I was sitting here obsessing as usual. I was trying to figure out how he kept his victims subdued.” I began to tell Maria Ruocco my theory, and what I had already done about it. “I figured he might drug them, and maybe he used something sophisticated. I called your lab for the results from Kate McTiernan’s toxic screen. They found
Marinol
in her urine.”
    “Marinol?” Dr. Ruocco sounded surprised, just as I had been at first. “Hmmp. How the hell did he get Marinol to give her? That’s a real bolt out of the blue. What a clever idea, though. It’s almost brilliant. Marinol is a good choice if he wanted to keep her submissive.”
    “Wouldn’t that account for her psychotic episodes today?” I said. “Tremors, convulsions, hallucinations—the whole package fits if you think about it.”
    “You could be right, Alex. Marinol! Jesus. The symptoms of Marinol withdrawal could mimic the most severe D.T.s. But how would he know so much about Marinol and how to use it? I don’t believe a layman would come up with that.”
    I had been wondering the same thing. “Maybe he’s been in chemotherapy? He could have been ill with cancer. Perhaps he had to take Marinol. Maybe he’s disfigured in some way.”
    “Maybe he’s a
doctor?
Or a pharmacist?” Dr. Ruocco offered up another guess. I had thought of those possibilities as well. He could even be a doctor working at University Hospital.
    “Listen, our favorite intern might be able to tell us something about him that can help us stop him. Can we do anything to get her through this withdrawal a little faster?”
    “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Less than that,” Maria Ruocco said. “Let’s see what we can do to help the poor girl out of her bad-dream state. I think we’d both like to talk to Kate McTiernan.”

Chapter 49

    H ALF AN hour later, Dr. Maria Ruocco was with me in Dr. Kate McTiernan’s room. I hadn’t told the Durham police, or the FBI, what I had discovered. I wanted to talk to the intern first. This could be a break in the case, the biggest so far.
    Maria Ruocco examined her important patient for nearly an hour. She was a no-nonsense, but user-friendly, doctor. She was very attractive, ash blond, probably in her late thirties. A little bit of a Southern belle, but pretty terrific, anyway. I wondered if Casanova had ever stalked Dr. Ruocco.
    “The poor kid is really going through it,” she said to me.