# 13 - Chapter Thirteen "It Hurts to Say Goodbye"

 It Hurts to Say Goodbye

Chapter Thirteen

The Uber driver was speeding down Philadelphia’s Columbus Boulevard.  

Lucky for him, there was little traffic and no inclement weather. He had promised to get his two passengers – Roberta Sessions and Rob Wong – from The Philadelphia Inquirer’s offices on Market Street to Bianca’s Buffet, the popular all-you-can eat restaurant, at Columbus and Washington Avenues by one pm – or the ride would be no charge.    

Roberta Sessions had set up a meeting with her old friend Albert Stillman, an MD specialist in forensic medicine. He told Sessions that he would wait for them until one o’clock. But he knew there was no way he would leave the restaurant without talking with her. 

Stillman, an expert in determining the cause of death of crime victims at Philadelphia’s Medical Examiner’s Office, didn’t tell Sessions that he wanted to save her from complicating her life, or flat-out saving her life.  

They had met twenty-five years ago at the U of Penn. Stillman had just started his last year in medical school, and she was studying communications. They literally bumped into each other at the Van Pelt Library. Both were carrying heavy course loads, and that day on the library steps they both carried a good number of books to study.  

Their hands were full. Stillman was very tall, and Sessions very small; they didn’t see each other until it was too late. When they banged into each other on the library’s front steps, their materials tumbled around their feet.  

As they apologized and started to gather their materials, something told them they could have found a good friend. 

Now, in the parking lot in front of Bianca’s Buffet, the Uber driver screeched to a halt and said, “See? We made it, just like I promised. No, I’m wrong, we made it with time to spare.” 

“My man,” Sessions said as she got out of the Uber, “you done good.” She reached into the front seat and handed the driver a fiver. “Have a good day.” 

Wong pulled himself out of the vehicle, and they both ran for Bianca’s entrance. 

As the glass doors clicked shut behind them, Sessions said, “You’re not gonna have a hard time finding him, he kind of stands out. You’ll see, he’s very tall, really very tall.”

They walked into the dining room and scanned the large space. The restaurant had some fifty tables, and even though it was a weekday, most of the tables were occupied. The diners were enthusiastic, and some of them piled their plates with so much food they had little chance to consume all of it. Down the center of the room, there was a row of steam tables with a wide selection of American standards and Asian specialties, and there was a special sushi section.  

They searched for Stillman. Sessions was hit by a sudden, hot moment of panic. What if her friend just couldn’t make it? What if he was given an assignment at the last minute?  

Finally they spotted him, resting his head against the wall in a corner booth. He had a full head of white hair, the tanned complexion of a man who loved the outdoors, and a distant look in his eyes. Stillman was indeed very tall; his shoulders easily towered above the heads of nearby male diners. 

As Sessions and Wong approached, Stillman was dawdling over coffee and a small plate of cookies. 

As soon as he saw Sessions, he slid out of the booth and rushed to greet her. 

Just a bit clumsy, he knelt and threw his arms around her and held her for a long five seconds. 

“Al, it’s great to see you,” she said as she freed herself from Stillman’s hold. “Lemme introduce the two of you. Al, this is Rob Wong. He’s my partner on this escapade. Anything you got to say, you can count on him as much as you can on me. Really, he’s solid.”

Then, Sessions turned to Wong. “Rob, this is Al Stillman. We go back a long time, and he’s important for a lotta reasons.” 

The two men shook hands, and all three took seats in the booth. 

Stillman said, “You have lunch yet? Wanna have a bit?”

“Hey, Al!” Sessions piped up. “I thought you were in a hurry. Get there by one, and all that stuff. What’s going on?”

“Robbi, I’m sorry, really. I was just trying to get your attention. This case, if we’re talking about the right one, well, it could be a land mine. I don’t know. I hear stuff; I’ve seen stuff. Let’s get to it, the facts first.”

Sessions held up one of her smallish hands. “Al, if it’s okay with you, the two of us have a real history. If it’s okay, I’d like to just give Rob just a few facts about you. After all, we did some good stuff together.”

Stillman held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Fine with me. But I wouldn’t know where to start,” he said. “But Robbi, I got it. Of the things we worked on, and I gotta say, good stories are always complicated. More than any other story was the series about sexual harassment in law enforcement. You had a hell of a time with your legal department.” 

“Yeah, we did some good things,” Sessions said. “But one more thing. Rob, Al heads the section that handles the most difficult cases. That’s his professional side. But on the family side, Al’s family is really old Pennsylvania, they go way back, honestly, way back to the Pilgrims’ era. So, you know what, and I’m not exaggerating, he has a real tradition to carry on.”

She held her head high with a touch of pride. “Just saying, that’s the kind of guy we’re working with.” 

Stillman was just a touch embarrassed. “Look’it, it’s no big deal. I can’t lean only my family’s history. I gotta, we all gotta do what’s right. Anyway, I can’t even tell you if my family, or any one of my great uncles for that matter, is in any museum here in Philadelphia.”

Sessions said, “So, now, we can cut to the chase. That’s fine with me. Well, it’s what I told you on the phone. The body found in Fairmount Park, the date the cops think she was killed, and the names of the two detectives investigating. Me and Rob, we don’t know anything beyond the few facts I gave you. Other than, it sure seems the case is being covered up . . . for some reason, who knows?”

Stillman hesitated. Then he leaned forward and started talking in a low voice. “Well, I’ll tell you. My office, the Medical Examiner’s Office, we did handle the case, and the time frame is right. The team at the scene brought the subject’s body in, and we did an autopsy, not me, but our team. We found she died from lose of blood, from a series of stab wounds. And, she had a healthy level of cocaine in her blood, and she’d been raped. Horrible, disgusting, a tragedy, really.”

He paused. Stillman had seen a lot of victims pass over the Medical Examiner’s metal tables, but this case was hard for him to talk about. “We sent our report to the senior officer on the case. But then, silence. The case got jammed up somewhere in the bureaucracy, I don’t know. I don’t think it ever got on the log. I don’t think the media ever heard about it. Then, and this is strange, another body, a second body showed up at the same site, in the middle of a bunch of trees, not far from that Japanese tea house. But something was strange. The first body, it was found by some kids hunting for their soccer ball. So, the cops had to get to the scene and process it. But they were actually the second team of detectives to work the scene. I don’t know why, but the first team was pulled off the case, and this second team was handed the prize.”

Stillman caught his breath. “Okay, more strange stuff. The second body, it was found two days later by the junior guy on the team. And guess what!  We don’t know why he went back there; and we usually get the investigators’ reports, but not this time. But the mystery about it is that that our exam showed that that second body was actually there before. And, of course, never made the log either, there was no notice about it. And, yeah, it still hasn’t been claimed, or even ID’d.”

A young waitress holding a small notebook approached the trio’s table. In slightly halting English, she asked, “Two more meals, you both want lunches too?”

Sessions looked at Rob Wong, and then said, “I don’t know about you, but for some reason I don’t feel very hungry.” Then she raised her eyes to the waitress. “I think, for now, I’ll just have a plain coffee.”

“For me, that’s a good idea, too,” Wong said. After the waitress left, he said, “The guys at the paper, the general assignment guys, they always say the higher ups at the department talk a lot about transparency. And they say the officers at the media center at The Roundhouse, they say the officers’re open. Sure, that can depend. But they’re helpful. And cases’re put on the log. So, now we got two murder cases, and nothing’s said.” 

The young waitress stood just a few feet from the table. Holding a tray with two cups of coffee, she waited to be acknowledged, and then placed the cups on the table and departed.  

Sessions sipped her coffee black. “So, Al, what’s your take?”

“When it comes right down to it,” Stillman said. “I really don’t know. But I hear funny stuff. Is there a real cover-up dictated by our leaders? I don’t know. But I do know when you talk about Philly, and gun violence and murder stats, we all know that our dear city has a problem. Maybe the city just doesn’t want to keep announcing murders. 

“But there has to be more, I just have a feeling. I know that sounds strange for a scientific, medical guy. Like, as Medical Examiners, we usually get reports from the scene. But when I ask about them, my higher-ups tell me, guess what! ‘Don’t worry about it.’  So, I say, ‘Hey, wait a minute!’ I mean, I’m not the head of Medical Examiners, but I’ve inched up a few steps in the pecking order. So, then I get that old song, ‘If I were you . . .’ 

“And you know something else? Just think of that young woman’s family. I saw the parents when they came in to ID her remains. They came all the way from Cincinnati, and we couldn’t tell them anything. Why? Well, ‘cause we don’t know anything. So, they’re left in doubt, no answers, no answers about why they lost their daughter. No closure, no comfort, no nothing! Just strange: They took possession of the body. No hold-up, like get rid of the evidence. Get it out of town. Sure, they want to lay their little girl to rest. But still, it’s strange!”

“Ya know something else?” Stillman said. “I’d say the Philadelphia Police Department, I’d say ninety-nine point nine percent of the cops are good guys, honest, and especially devoted public servants. But with this case, something smells, something smells bad.” 

Sessions jumped in. “All the more reason, Al. Remember what we agreed, so far back I can’t even remember when. It was simple. If we can do good, we do it. If we think something’s going on, and if it’s not kosher, we gotta find out. Can you help us? Can you try to find out?” 

Stillman leaned back against the wall. He pushed back his long, white hair. “I don’t wanna seem . . . I’ll try. I’ll really try. But I wanna tell you. I’m trying to keep my personal feelings out of this. The years I been a public servant keep piling up. Money has no place in this conversation, but it’s been a long time I been getting by on a city salary. Know what I’d make in private practice? I stayed because I know it’s important. So when I’m told: ‘Don’t worry about it; If I were you. Above your pay-grade.’ When I hear that stuff, I feel dissed. I feel disrespected. Would I be helping you guys to get back at someone else? I sure hope not.”  

Again, Sessions didn’t hesitate. “Like I said, Al, all the more reason. Sometimes we gotta follow our gut. Sometimes we gotta follow our intuition, our feelings.” 

“But both of you, I want you to know something,” Stillman said. “I want you to know what you’re getting involved in. If there’s gonna be a blow-up, if there’s gonna be an explosion, then there’s no way of knowing who’s gonna get hit by the flying debris. No more than that, who’s gonna get hurt?” 

“But ya know,” he continued, “I just wanna tell you, you don’t have to chase this thing, you can drop it. Sure, I think there’s something going on. But on a personal basis, it could get hairy. You could just let this one go.”

“Al, you’ve known me for how long?” Sessions asked. “I’d say a long time, and you know what I do, because you been helping me. Have I ever turned away from a good story? Or from a good fight?” 

He looked down, straight into Sessions’ eyes. “Well, no. You’re a toughie. I’m sure you’ll stick with it.”

“You got it, Al.” 

Stillman said, “Okay, I got it. It’s my treat. I’ll get this.”

“Al, ya sure? After all, two coffees.”

“Look’at,” he said. “You can get it next time, when we go someplace, really someplace where we all can celebrate.” 

“Al, thanks.”

“No problem,” Stillman said. “Listen, let’s say good-bye now. Just in case, you never know. I don’t want somebody to see us leaving together. Better to be safe.”

“Sure,” Wong said. “But I just wanna tell you, Al, if I may. This is going to sound corny, but it’s been a honor meeting you, and thanks for your help.” 

In a discreet manner, the three shook hands, and then Wong and Sessions walked at a normal pace out of the restaurant.  

Once standing outside, while waiting for their Uber, Sessions asked Wong: “So, whadda you think?”

Wong said, “I think we gotta a ways to go. But I got my intuition. I got a feeling there’s something there. Ya know, when I was talking with our boss, Morrie Robbins, he asked me why I wanted to dig into this story. Well, one of the things I told him was I got a good nose. Well, I do, I really do.”

“But I gotta tell ya something,” he said. “Sitting there with Stillman, I had this internal debate, should I talk about our source? Should I tell him the guy wants to stay confidential and he thinks he’s being framed? Well, on that I decided to keep my mouth shut.” 

“Rob, you did the right thing. He doesn’t need all that at this point.” 

“Thanks,” he said. “But you asked me, so I’ll ask you: Whadda you think?” 

“I agree with you. We got a ways to go. This isn’t going to be easy. And I got some options. We got more options.”