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When Cassadines Fall
Bitter Pill
"Dr Collins?" Maddy pushs open the slightly ajar door to Kevin's office at General Hospital. "I know I don't have an appointment but I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you about Larry's care. My name is Madeliene Reynolds." Kevin looks up from his files. Before he can get a word in edgewise, Maddy starts in on her spiel selling for all she's worth. She gives him the documentation she's found presented in a tidy professional type binder. She concludes the persuasive argument with a discreet plea. "So I hope you'll allow Larry to visit with his dog, Cinnamon."
Kevin who'd given up on getting a word in has been looking over the material while Maddy had presented her case. "Normally... Maddy, isn't it?"
"Yes sir."
"I don't discuss my patients with anyone... and I don't have a signed release with you but Larry did want me to talk to you. Or rather tell you what happened."
"What do you mean? What happened?"
"Larry has been transferred to the VA hospital in Albany." Kevin says quietly.
"What? When? Why? That's over ninety miles away! For how long? Everything that Larry cares about is here!"
"When---this morning. Why---because his ailment is directly service related and covered by his veterans benefit."
"But couldn't he have been treated here?! By you? I talked to Nikolas Cassadine; he says you're aces."
"Thank you... I think." Kevin is frustrated by the situation. Larry had been agitated when he left with the corpsmen that had been sent for him after showing real progress for the four days he'd been in the hospital. Significant progress, Kevin had discovered, after the nurse told him this young lady had visited. All that had been set back as he'd been screaming when he left for Kevin to tell Maddy what happened. He hadn't even know who Maddy was-- if she existed-- until she showed up at his door. "And yes, Larry could have been treated here. But as a Veteran suffering from PTSD and on 100% disability due to his affliction, he has to be treated at the VA. Failure to comply with their directives can, and sometimes does, result in the loss of disability status. If he had refused to go with the corpsmen this morning he might have lost his stipend forever. It's my understanding that is his only source of income."
"This is such total bull****!" Maddy rises from the chair across from Kevin and starts pacing the room. "Larry isn't nuts. He has spells. Other than that he's just fine."
"Miss Reynolds, he lives on the streets. And the spells as you call them, the post traumatic stress disorder, can provoke violent behavior. Self destructive behavior."
"There is nothing wrong with living on the street. Some people just can't handle being closed up. One of my best friends back in New Orleans was that way. The worst thing for Larry is to be someplace he can't get out of! That's what is gonna provoke some violent behavior! He should have been left here. Seen you on... an outpatient basis or something. Even in his spells he knows who Cinnamon is. She's his connection to this time and place."
"Then you know that Larry's trauma is related to his time in a POW camp. The things he saw there, what was done to him."
"No, I didn't know that." Madeliene stops in her tracks crossing her arms in front of her. "Well that just proves he isn't nuts. My friend back in New Orleans spent twenty years in prison, six of it in solitary. He got by, by playing chess games in his head. And he's just fine other than not liking the indoors."
"I'm not dismissing what your friend went through but you explained the difference right there. Your friend had chess to get him through, somewhere safe and sane to go mentally, while living in an insane situation. That has been the explanation for many of the people who came through the same type situations mentally and emotionally intact. Whether it was constructing paper clocks, or designing a dream house or playing a game like chess that has almost infinite possible moves. Larry didn't have that resource within him back then. Because he didn't have something to... take the edge off the horrors, he broke. And now, even decades later, something triggers-- it can be a date, an anniversary, a noise, a smell and he's right back in the horror." Kevin explains.
"You mean like being locked up!" Maddy protests.
Kevin sighs. It's hard to fight this battle when he's in agreement with the other side. "Miss Reynolds." He takes another breath. "The VA aren't monsters. They actually have the best program in the state. They have skilled clinicians who because of their familiarity with PTSD do amazing things. They are on the cutting edge of clinical trials for medications that can help. Larry will make progress while he's there."
"But not as much as he would if he were here with us." Maddy says flatly.
"I can't say that. There are no guarantees."
"Yeah, right. Do you have the mailing address for the hospital? So I can get hold of Larry?"
Kevin searches his rolodex and then copies it down handing it to Maddy. "Here you go. I know it's little comfort now but your argument was very persuasive. I would have let Cinnamon in to see Larry, as an exception. I would suggest though before you try again with the VA you have her certified as a Therapy dog. That was the only piece missing from your presentation."
"How long, Dr Collins? How long is Larry going to be there?"
Kevin shakes his head. "I can't say. It could be a few weeks if they only deal with the immediate episode. If Larry becomes part of one of their clinical trials it could be a months."
"I appreciate the time you took to explain all this to me. Niknik is right; you seem like a great guy, but that doesn't mean that isn't still total BS." Maddy leaves shutting the door behind her. The door shuts quietly but the slam is definitely implied.
"Unfortunately accurate, Miss Reynolds." Kevin mutters. Unable to get his focus back for the routine paperwork, he decides to go down to the cafeteria to get a cup of tea and takes Maddy's report with him.
Ricky leans over the bubbler at the corner of the hallway. He uses the time getting a drink of water to check out the scene. He'd been all over the criminal justice complex this afternoon. Checking out where the various offices are, the DA's, the brass for the police department, the victim's rights advocate and the many different court rooms. Checked out all the corridors that lead to the other buildings-- the PCPD main branch where the detectives hang and the probation office that had mental health counselors. It really was one stop shopping-- from crime to consequences in one city block. The courthouse itself is like a church for the nonsecular: marble floors, real wood panels with everyone talking in hushed tones. The only action on this floor is a guy in a set of light blue coveralls who is pushing a broom and emptying trashcans. Ricky goes over to the guy glancing casually at the custodian's badge and the huge set of keys on his belt. "Yo man, can you help me out here? I'm looking for the courtroom for the presiding judge of the circuit court."
"No problem. That's Judge Porter. He's the boss of all the other judges. He's in courtroom three. Up one floor and the staircase opens up right across from it."
"Thanks, man." Ricky pauses before walking away then turns back around. "How do you like working here? They treat you right?"
The custodian straightens. "You know you're the first person to ask me that? Sometimes it's like I'm the invisible man. The company I work for has the contract for the whole complex. It's not brain surgery but it pays the bills. So I guess they treat me fine. Work is just what you do to pay for hobbies, right?"
"Roof over your head, man; roof over your head." Ricky agrees nodding. "Thanks again for the info. See ya round."
"Have a nice day." The custodian agrees and returns to his task.
Ricky half runs up the stairs to the courtroom that the custodian had referred to him. There are small groups of people in the hallway with their heads together whispering. He looks at the bulletin board outside the courtroom. The Judge's docket is posted. Looked like the guy was going to do the afternoon incustody arraignments and then had a couple of felony appearances. The interesting part of the docket was where Dara Jensen's name had been scratched off as the ADA and instead Justus Ward's name was in it's place. Wasn't that Old Man Quartermaine's grandson? "Got to check this one out." Ricky mutters.
Judge Porter's bailiff comes through the double doors opening the courtroom up for anyone who had business with the Judge. There is a quiet rush as the hallway clears and everyone goes inside. Ricky waits until he is the last and eases into the courtroom. He takes a seat in the back on one of the hardwood pews. The walls are lined with portraits of (probably dead) white guys-- former judges all. The jury box is filled with guys in jumpsuits and shackles guarded by corrections officers. At the very last minute before the bailiff shuts the door again to keep out the noise of the hallway a tall black dude with a bunch of files under his arm strides in and takes a seat at the state's table. The bailiff goes back up to the front of the courtroom standing right infront of the state seal and calls out. "All Rise!"
There is a rush to their feet by the gallery and the perps. Another middle aged white guy in a black robe comes from a door behind his dais. Younger than you'd expect for a guy that was boss of all the judges. "Be seated. Mr Ward, I wasn't expecting to see you today."
"Ms. Jensen is still on leave, Your Honor." Justus replies discreetly.
"Well lets get this going. My daughter is taking me to the movies and doesn't want to pay the night time admission prices." Justus nods at the judge's directive and calls the first case.
That is old man Quartermaine's grandson?! Ricky thinks with a grin. Dad is gonna love this one. One by one the cases are disposed of. From what he can tell the judge isn't really rushing things just cutting through the bull and moving things along. The perps don't get the edge of his tongue but their lawyers do when the judge suspects they're dragging their feet. Even that Ward guy gets a piece of it. The Judge motions to his bailiff and covers the mike that is taking down the all the info from the session for transcription later. The bailiff nods.
"Last case, Your Honor." Justus who'd been flipping files over as they'd gone through them holds up the last file.
"Excellent. Call it." The Judge orders. As the motions are dealt with in rapid order the judge finishes by noting the next court date. He hammers his gavel once to call the end of the session.
Ricky gets up to leave but is stopped by the bailiff. "The Judge wants to see you in his chambers."
"Me? Why?"
"I didn't ask. This way." The bailiff escorts Ricky back to the Judge's chambers. The Judge is already out of his robe. It's hung on the back of a door, and he is sliding into his suit jacket.
Ricky for once keeps his mouth shut. After watching this guy for the last ninety minutes or so he figures it best to see what the Judge wants and then get the hell out ASAP. The judge looks up when he hears him. "What were you doing in my court room today?"
"Sir?"
"Well you're not old enough to be a lawyer although I suppose you could be a student. You didn't leave after all the cases were called. The normal reporter for the Herald was there... so who are you?"
"Was the court closed? I shouldn't have been there?" Ricky asks ducking the question.
"No, but it's fairly unusual to have a community observer without a reason. I want to know your reason."
Ricky decides to go with the easy lie. "Well you see... I got caught doing something I ought not. Not by the cops or anything-- by my dad which is worse in my opinion. I had two options. He would cut up my credit card in front of my face, which would have but a serious crimp in things with the ladies, or I could do time in courtrooms. Dad thought it might help me see the error of my ways."
"And has it?"
"Oh yes, sir. There is no way I want to ever be in front of you back there." Ricky indicates with his thumb back to the courtroom.
"So I should assume if I see you again that your father decided you needed a refresher course?"
"Nah, it was kinda interesting. I hear a big trial coming up I might just check it out anyway. Justice at work and all that."
"I'm glad I could be entertaining." JD Porter says wryly. "Your father arranges interesting penances. I think I'd like to meet him some day."
"You never know." Ricky nods. "Is it okay if I go now... you said in court that you had to meet your daughter."
"Actually she is meeting me here. And yes, you may go." As a judge within these walls he was used to people wanting to get away from him as soon as possible-- afraid that he might change his mind and lock them up.
"Thanks again." Ricky says and makes a quick retreat that is blocked when he runs into/over somebody.
"What are you doing here?" The obstruction hisses. "Are you trying to get me in more trouble?"
Ricky gets his balance back. It's the pixie from the restaurant. She's dressed in khakis and a blue polo shirt covered with a blue sweater that has Queen of Angels embroidered on the left side. "Sorry, my bad. Didn't watch where I was going." He shakes his head and mouths later.
Rita glares at him but lets him pass. "Daddy, are you ready to go?"
"Yeah, pumpkin. Have you picked out a movie?"
She nods. "And we just might make it-- even without a police escort and sirens. Any chance of hitting the bookstore after?"
"Sure. But Cookie chewed me out for the true crime stuff you've been reading. So pick up some science fiction or something instead."
The stable in the woods above Deception. Emily puts the stand down on her motorcycle and pulls her helmet off latching it on her bike as she climbs off. Carly is already at the door to her office when Emily nears. "Shh. Michael wore himself out and is down for a nap." They both go into the office. Emily checks out her godson. He's sleeping like a little angel. Poor Mister Man, it looked like he got the Spencer hair. Carly goes to sit behind her desk and blanks her computer screen.
Emily slides up on the corner of her desk. "I thought you were the one taking naps these days?" Em teases.
"Haha. You're a riot. I'm out of that phase now... I'm in the why the hell do none of my pants zip stage now." Carly deadpans. "Okay. AJ isn't around. What's up?"
"I was talking with Maddy Saturday and we started chatting about the Nurse's ball and how different people sponsor it every year."
"Oh no, forget it-- I am not backing the nurses ball. I'll perform if I'm not too fat and I'll cut them a nice check, I'll even double it if Robin lying backstabbing bitch Scorpio isn't there, but I am not going to do line item analysis with Lucy Coe."
"Let me finish..." Emily grins ignoring the comments about Robin-- ever since Robin had testified for Tony against Bobbie, Carly had said Robin's name like that if she said it at all. "We got talking about the past sponsors... the Quartermaines, The Jacks, The Cassadines and realized who we didn't mention."
"Who?" Carly asks suspiciously.
"Amanda Barrington." Emily says carefully drawing out the name.
Carly rocks back in her chair and grins a glint coming into her eye. "You know I think you're right. At least not for as long as I've been going. I mean she's always there. Barrington Industries always buys a table. Then Amanda sits around in her designer dresses, dripping diamonds, acting like she is the queen of the world while she tears people down like a wicked combination of that Blackwell guy and Miss Manners. And I tried to do the Charity Guild thing for Lila's sake. You know to have a Quartermaine presence since she doesn't get around as much anymore."
"Ha! Did Grandmother sucker you. She gets around fine for things she wants to do: the theater, her garden club, her reading club, or going to that Halloween Party at Nikolas' place. Amanda is a pill. Grandmother was probably hoping in her *never cross her mind* way that you'd do Amanda in."
"Well Lila let me off the hook soon enough and I had Mr Man there as the perfect excuse although Amanda did start suggesting nannies and boarding school. Please! Michael is going to be three! And AJ and I agreed when we got together no nannies and no boarding school for Michael."
"Except Leticia."
"Except Leticia when Michael is staying with Jason on the weekends." Carly agrees. "Okay so you think that Amanda should sponsor the ball." Carly shrugs. "What's that got to do with me?"
"You up for a little project? Project Barrington $ for the Ball?"
"What are you going to do?"
"No video this time." Em clarifies reminding Carly of when they'd taken on Katherine Bell. "I think Maddy has something on Barrington Industries. You know she hears stuff. But we need the ammo you might have collected on Amanda through the guild."
"She drinks like a fish but you already know that one." Carly muses. "I don't know, Em, there is nothing direct." She snaps her fingers. "But we both know what is important to Amanda... her social standing... she'd like to be Queen of Port Charles. And you know it had to burn her hide when Lila got all the recognition for the theater. Written up in the paper. And the theater is always packed now whatever they are putting on."
"And Grandmother is going to win the Historical Society's award for that this year... she's a shoo in." Emily agrees.
"So she's got to top that. If there were enough little birds telling her she ought to do something big...."
"Amanda would probably make the announcement the same weekend as Grandmother wins!" Emily laughs.
Carly goes sorting through her mail. She'd brought it up here from home to get things done. "This. This is the key."
"What's that?"
"Ward House fund raiser. All the muckymucks will be there. All the money will be in the house. All the people that Amanda lives to impress. Go there start circulating... say little things like I'm sure the Nurses Ball that Amanda sponsors will be the best ever. And then just let it roll down hill from there. Soon all of them will be wondering why Amanda hasn't done it already."
"I love it." Emily grabs the envelope and reads the invitation and grimaces. "It's for a Saturday night-- Johnny can't go; he'll be working. I bet I could talk Grandfather into going with me since it is Ward House. That way I can talk the theater up at the same time."
"You're getting good at this, kid. What's Maddy up to?"
"I don't know for sure but I'll find out."
Maddy comes in the backdoor and kicks off her shoes first thing. She hangs her purse and coat over a chair. Cinnamon pads in after. She'd taken to going on the route with Maddy. Maddy sure felt a hell of lot safer if she had to use the night deposit at the bank with the dog with her. "Candy, are you home?!" She calls out. There is no answer. Maddy checks the dry erase board. Nothing there. Going to the house proper she calls out again. "Candy?! Where is that guy? I need to tell him that you're staying longer. Maybe as long as I do." Maddy tells Cinnamon.
Maddy wanders into what she considers Nik's part of the house. The foyer and the kitchen were common ground. The basement was hers-- and considering Nik's reluctant laundry technique would likely stay that way. Everything else was Nik's. Maddy walks in the living room and stops dead in her tracks. "What the hell?!" That was Granny Rosa's quilt on the wall and the doilies... those were Granny Sophia's work; she'd know them anywhere. "I'm gonna kill 'im. Who does he think he is? That's my stuff! I left it at Granny Sophia's for safekeeping!"
Maddy looks up the stairs and instead of tables or a plant or something up on the upstairs landing are two victorian dressmaker dummies that are wearing her mother's Marti Gras costumes. Suspecting that this is just the beginning-- she goes into Nik's study and sure enough one of Sophia's crochet afghans lays over the top of a leather chair. Maddy runs upstairs opening the door to the guest room first she looks in and sees her great grandmother's quilt. It had been the only thing that Lisette had taken from her mother's house after Maddy's grandmother died. Or at least that was what Lisette always said. No matter how trashed she got, how often they moved in the middle of the night, or how much they had to leave behind-- that quilt had gone with them-- packed carefully away in acidfree paper. Lisette would steal before she'd part with that quilt. "I'm going to kill him."
Maddy runs back down the stairs and she puts the chain on both of the doors and pulls out her cell phone from her coat pocket hanging on the kitchen chair. "Granny Sophia? What in the hell were you thinking giving Nikolas Cassadine my stuff?" Maddy looks up from focusing on Granny's explanation and sees the magnet on the fridge as if for the first time. The grocery list was no longer by the phone but instead underneath it. Playing a hunch she goes over to the kitchen cabinents. She folds her head over to hold the phone to her shoulder: Folger's can with money in it, uncle ben rice, hot sauce, file, bags of beans, other spices, a damn fifth of southern comfort and a bottle of Marsala wine. "You think he wants me to feel at HOME! He's trying to drive me crazy! Nikolas didn't say one word about all this. Just all of a sudden my stuff appears like by magic or something. It's my stuff. I wanted it for my house when I got one!"
Cinnamon barks her tail wagging and looks toward the front door. "Look the sonofabitch is back. I'll call you later, Granny Sophia. I'm gonna kill him." Maddy disconnects the phone. "I have had the day from hell, Nikolas Cassadine and you just topped it off. You think you were ticked off cause I locked you out before; well you just watch out, buddy, 'cause you're gonna be more afraid of coming into this dang house!" Maddy calls out as the front door opens but is stopped by the chain. Maddy goes over to the door and kicks it shut with her foot. She snaps the chain off and then throws it open. Her jaw drops.
"You were expecting someone else?" Helena Cassadine says with a lifted brow. A finger at a time she loosens her gloves and finally removes them. From your wailing like a fishwife I am to assume that my grandson isn't home? Well then I'll wait." Helena pushes by Maddy.
Ari goes to do the same but Maddy blocks him. "I don't think so, buddy. She's the owner's family-- she comes in. You can wait outside."
"But Madame needs me."
"Well if Madame needs you so damn bad then she can wait with you in the damn limo but if she wants to wait inside until Nikolas gets home then you can just keep your pretty ass on the front porch."
Ari makes a move as if to lift Maddy out of the way but hears the growl down by his feet. He looks down. Cinnamon smiles at him letting all her teeth show. "I'll wait out here."
"I thought so." Maddy slams the door and rams home the chain. She walks into the living room. Helena has made herself at home taking the most comfortable chair by the fireplace. Maddy verifies that all the fire implements are there especially the poker. "I wondered when you'd come calling, Mrs Cassadine."
"I would have come sooner but I understand my grandson was skiing. Aspen wasn't it?" Helena gives the cover story not believing a word of it. She didn't know where Nikolas and the ungrateful welp of a son she should have drown at birth had gone...but it wasn't Aspen.
"That's what I hear." Maddy agrees. "Can I get you something to drink? A cup of tea or a glass of Marsala wine?"
"Tea." Helena doesn't bother with the please or thank you.
Maddy turns to go back to the kitchen but stops to talk to Cinnamon. "Watch her."
Cinnamon has no clue what Maddy is saying but can tell by the tone that she doesn't like the funny smelling old human. She lays down on the edge of the carpet and just keeps an eye on things to be on the safe side.