Worth More Dead

Washington, there was no longer any need to hurry. Although an aura of violence and terror still hung in the air, the King County detectives, led by Joe Purcell—who became the lead detective on this horrific case—worked slowly and methodically inside the murder house. They photographed the quiet rooms and drew sketches and measured so they could re-create the placement of the bodies and possible physical evidence later. They also tried to identify the three people who died the night before.
    Joe Purcell looked for evidence in the upstairs bathroom where the corpse of the second man still lay in the tub full of bloody water, water that was quite cool now. As Purcell knelt to examine something, he thought he heard the sound of water splashing behind him. Of course, that could not be. A prickling ran up his spine, and he turned slowly around to see what had to be impossible.
    The body in the tub had just sat up.
    There is such a thing as bodies reflexively moving as dead muscles contract during rigor mortis, but this couldn’t be caused by that. The guy was sitting straight up.
    The dead man wasn’t dead at all. He had bled quite a bit from where he’d slashed his neck and wrists in a suicide attempt, more than enough to turn the water in the tub crimson, and, as blood chemistry tests later showed, he had also taken an overdose of sedatives, enough he evidently believed would kill him. But he had not cut himself deeply enough to bleed to death nor taken enough pills to suppress his lungs’ ability to draw breath. As the hours passed after the murders were discovered, the temperature of the water in the tub cooled enough to wake him from his drugged sleep.
    It would be a long time before Joe Purcell, having experienced the sight of a body that almost literally rose from the dead, would be able to turn his back on a corpse. Indeed, he was never again able to work a homicide crime scene without a sense of trepidation.
    Who were the three people who had come together so violently?
    Records showed that the house was owned by Debra Sweiger, 36, a registered nurse. She was also the head of a corporation. In the past few years, she had turned her knowledge of nursing into an extremely successful enterprise, enough to buy this house, the fabulous wardrobe in her closets, and the sports car in her garage.
    In the mid-eighties, there was a severe shortage of highly skilled nurses in America, partially brought about by their low salaries, long hours, and the lack of respect accorded them. Despite the lack of financial rewards, nurses were also expected to take on huge responsibilities for the welfare of their patients. For a decade or more, registered nurses had complained about the inequities in their careers. It came to a head in the eighties. Many of them simply quit their profession and found something that paid them a living wage.
    The lack of top nurses that affected patient care the most were those RNs who were particulary skilled in the ER, ICUs (intensive care units) and in CCUs (coronary care units). No one could blame them for giving up on nursing when their requests for salary raises were ignored. The nurses who remained were in high demand.
    Debra Sweiger was one of those highly trained nurses. So was her friend Joyce Breakey.* Debra and Joyce put their heads together, and came up with the idea for a referral service where they would link the top echelon of nurses to medical facilities willing to pay them what they were worth. Cascade Nursing Services was an idea whose time had come, and the women incorporated in 1987.
    Joyce and Debra each had her own skills: Joyce was the hands-on person in the actual business; Debra gravitated more to public relations. In the early days of their business, they had only ten to twelve nurses to place in jobs, and the demand was great for “super nurses.” Debra and Joyce took shift assignments themselves. They worked really hard, but they had faith that the day would come when all they had to do was run Cascade.
    And it did. Debra brought in business and was the one who lobbied to state senators in Olympia to establish that Cascade’s policies on taxes and unemployment compensation met existing statutes. A friend recalled, “Debra really enjoyed the schmoozing and dealing with things in the political arena. The whole ‘who’s who’ was really important to her. She was a socializing machine, and she was very good at it.”
    Debra was married twice at a young age and she