Chapter 6 - THE DOCTOR WHO CALLED IT MERCY
~1,100 words
For several seconds, I heard nothing except the faint ticking of my father’s watch.
“You staged it.”
Dominic did not deny it.
“You put bullets into his car after he collapsed.”
“Yes.”
Mom stood too quickly.
Megan caught the chair before it tipped, but did not grab her.
Catherine steadied herself against the desk.
“You told me Anthony Calder murdered my husband.”
Dominic’s face twisted.
“I told everyone.”
“You let me hate a man for twelve years.”
“I needed the story believed.”
“Why?”
“Because Vincent’s death left a vacuum.”
His voice hardened with the old certainty I knew too well.
“Anthony Calder had agreed to peace with Vincent, not with us. The captains already believed the Calders were circling. If I told them Vincent died because his heart failed during an argument about dismantling the organization, half the waterfront would have fractured before sunrise.”
“So you gave them an enemy.”
“Yes.”
“You gave me an enemy,” I said.
Dominic looked at me.
“Yes.”
I wanted to hit him.
That was the simplest thing in the world.
A punch required no ambiguity.
No grieving.
No admission that part of the man standing in front of me had raised me after my father died.
Megan’s voice stopped me.
“Isaac.”
Just my name.
Nothing else.
I looked at her.
She shook her head once.
Not for Dominic.
For me.
I stepped back.
“Where is Samuel?”
“At his clinic.”
I picked up my coat.
Mom said, “I’m coming.”
“No.”
Every eye in the room turned toward me.
I closed mine.
Then corrected myself.
“Do you want to come?”
Catherine’s mouth twitched.
“I’m exhausted.”
Megan almost smiled.
Mom continued.
“But thank you for asking.”
I crouched beside her.
“I’ll come back.”
“You’d better.”
She touched my cheek.
“And Isaac?”
“Yes?”
“Bring back the truth. Not a body.”
Dominic looked toward the floor.
I left him at the estate under Marco’s watch.
Not locked in a room.
Not beaten.
Just prevented from leaving until I understood what I was dealing with.
Megan came with me.
I didn’t ask why until we were in the car.
“Why are you here?”
“Catherine asked me to make sure you remember the ‘not a body’ part.”
I looked at her.
“She said that?”
“No.”
A pause.
“But she should have.”
Despite everything, I laughed once.
Samuel Vale’s clinic occupied the second floor of a quiet medical building.
No guards.
No drama.
Just beige walls, framed diplomas and a receptionist who went pale when she saw me.
Samuel was seventy.
Thin now.
White hair.
Still wearing the same rimless glasses he had worn when I was twenty.
He saw Megan first.
Then me.
His face fell.
“Dominic told you.”
“He told me enough.”
Samuel closed his office door.
“Sit.”
“I’ll stand.”
Megan sat.
Samuel noticed.
“Who are you?”
“Megan Hale.”
“Family?”
“No.”
“She works for my mother.”
“I work for Catherine,” Megan corrected.
Samuel looked between us.
I almost smiled.
“Why did you increase my mother’s sedative?”
He removed his glasses.
“She wasn’t sleeping.”
“She says she was.”
“Not enough.”
“Did you examine her?”
A pause.
“No.”
Megan leaned forward.
“Did you discuss the increase with her?”
Samuel’s discomfort grew.
“Dominic described severe nighttime agitation.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
He looked at her.
“No.”
I felt sick.
“Then you prescribed medication to a dying woman without speaking to her.”
“She has advanced cardiac disease. Stress is dangerous.”
“So is being unconscious fourteen hours a day.”
“I did not expect that level of response.”
Megan’s voice stayed calm.
“When she reported it?”
Samuel said nothing.
“You knew,” I said.
“I knew she was fatigued.”
“You told her she needed rest.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at me.
“Because I was afraid.”
I stared.
“Of what?”
“Of losing another Mercer because everyone around him believed stubbornness was strength.”
That hit harder than I expected.
Samuel looked toward the door.
“Your father should have had surgery.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not.”
He put his glasses back on.
“I spent twelve years wondering whether I should have forced Vincent into an operating room somehow. Then Catherine’s condition worsened, and I did the opposite of what a doctor should do.”
Megan’s expression stayed firm.
“You treated your fear instead of your patient.”
Samuel nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
No excuse.
No easy villain.
Just a man who had turned guilt into authority.
I hated it more because I understood it.
“I authorized it too,” I said.
Samuel looked confused.
“Months ago. Dominic called me. You wanted flexibility to keep Mom comfortable. I told him to do whatever was necessary.”
Megan looked at me.
I continued before she could.
“I know. That wasn’t consent from her.”
Samuel rubbed his forehead.
“No.”
The room went quiet.
I took my father’s photograph from my coat and put it on Samuel’s desk.
He saw Anthony Calder.
His shoulders dropped.
“You know about Gloucester.”
“Yes.”
“What happened at Dock Fourteen?”
He stared at the photograph a long time.
Then he opened a drawer.
Not dramatically.
Just an old man reaching for something he had avoided for years.
He removed a black leather medical bag.
My father’s initials were scratched into one corner.
V.M.
“I kept this because I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.”
He opened it.
Inside was an old blood-pressure cuff.
A stethoscope.
And a silver medical bracelet.
Vincent Mercer.
My father.
I picked it up.
“Why was he wearing this?”
“Because he had collapsed twice in the month before he died.”
I looked at Samuel.
“You never told me.”
“Vincent forbade it.”
“You listened to him.”
“Yes.”
“But not my mother.”
Samuel closed his eyes.
The hypocrisy sat between us.
He deserved it.
“What happened that night?”
Samuel took a breath.
“Dominic called me. Said Vincent was going to Dock Fourteen despite chest pain.”
“You arrived.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“They were arguing.”
“About me?”
“Partly.”
“What else?”
“Vincent wanted the Calder peace announced immediately.”
“Dominic opposed it.”
“Yes.”
“Did they fight?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else come?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Samuel stared at his hands.
“Vincent told Dominic he was finished. With the docks. With the fear. With turning you into the next version of himself.”
My throat tightened.
“Then?”
“Dominic walked away.”
“And my father?”
“Called after him.”
Samuel’s voice changed.
“Then Vincent stopped speaking.”
I knew before he said it.
“He collapsed.”
“Yes.”
“Was he alive when you reached him?”
“Barely.”
“You took him to the hospital.”
“Dominic drove.”
“And the car?”
Samuel’s face looked haunted.
“After the doctors pronounced Vincent dead, Dominic disappeared for forty minutes.”
I went cold.
“When he came back?”
“He had already fired the shots into the car.”
Megan inhaled quietly.
I looked at Samuel.
“You helped him lie.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he told me if the captains learned Vincent died while preparing to dismantle the organization, they would tear everything apart.”
“Did you believe him?”
“Yes.”
“Did my mother know?”
“Not at first.”
My heartbeat slowed.
“What does that mean?”
Samuel looked toward the medical bracelet in my hand.
“It means Catherine knows more than Dominic thinks she knows.”
I stood.
“What?”
He swallowed.
“Your father didn’t die from the shooting.”
“I understand that.”
“No.”
Samuel looked directly at me.
“You still don’t.”
He pointed to the bracelet.
“Vincent’s heart failed at Dock Fourteen.”
A pause.
May you like
“He was dead before the first shot was fired.”
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