Suture Self : A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery
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the story on Joe. But, she decided, that would only
upset her.
For a quarter of an hour, she twisted, tossed, and
turned—at least as much as she could without disturbing the artificial hip. She was about to ring the front
desk again when Renie staggered into the room.
“Coz!” Judith cried. “Where have you been? Did
you find Joe?”
Dragging herself to her bed, Renie shook her head.
“No. But he’s not dead. I finally got that much out of
Bertha down there in the ICU. They moved him to a
private room on the fourth floor.”
Judith clutched the bedsheet to her breast. “Does
that mean he’s better?”
“It may,” Renie replied, collapsing onto the mattress. “Bertha wouldn’t give me any details. The only
way I got any information was to grab the power cord
to her computer with my good hand and threaten to unplug her. To tell the truth, I don’t think she knew anything else. Remember, she just came on duty. Joe was
moved before she got there.”
Judith grabbed the phone. “I’m calling the nurses’ station on four.”
A man with a foreign accent answered. “Very sorry,”
he said after Judith stated her request for information.
“We cannot give out any word on that patient.”
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“But I’m his wife,” Judith protested. “I’m next of kin.”
“Very sorry,” the man repeated. “We must follow
strict orders.”
“Tell me this much,” she persisted. “Would they
have moved him if he’d still been on the critical list?”
“No word on that patient. Good-bye.” The man hung
up.
“Damn!” Judith cried. “Is this some kind of conspiracy?”
“I don’t know,” Renie said in an exhausted voice.
“But at least you found out Joe’s still in one piece.”
“That’s not a great deal of comfort,” Judith moaned.
“And why move him at all?”
“It gets zanier,” Renie declared. “Didn’t you wonder
how Torchy Magee arrived so fast after Bertha hit the
alarm button?”
“No,” Judith admitted. “I didn’t even think about it.
I was too upset about Joe.”
“Torchy may run hard, but he doesn’t run fast,”
Renie pointed out. “He’s too bulky. Anyway, I figured
that the only place he could have come from in that
short period of time was the room we saw Robbie the
Robot enter. After giving Bertha the third degree, I
peeked inside the door. Robbie was still there, all
beeped out. The room is where they keep some of their
records, and it has a paper shredder that had been left
on. I figured that Torchy was in there shredding documents, maybe some that Robbie had delivered. Sure
enough, Torchy had left a couple of undamaged pages
next to the shredder.” Renie looked hard at Judith.
“They bore the name ‘Joe Flynn.’ ”
At first, Judith was baffled. According to Renie, the
two sheets appeared to be only the standard admitting
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forms. Except for Joe’s identification, the date, the
time, the type of injury, and the signature of the hospital staff member who had signed him in, there was
nothing of interest.
“That’s why I didn’t swipe them,” Renie explained.
“As long as they didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know, I thought that stealing the two pages
would cause more trouble than it was worth.”
Judith frowned. “I wonder how many records from
this place have gone through that shredder in the past
month or so?”
“You mean like Joaquin Somosa’s and Joan Fremont’s and Bob Randall’s?” Renie suggested.
“Exactly.” Judith was silent for a few moments, then
turned to Renie again. “There is a cover-up, but I’m beginning to think it doesn’t have anything to do with the
hospital’s reputation per se.”
“What do you mean?” Renie asked.
Judith shook her head. “I’m not sure. I just have this
feeling that maybe it’s more personal than professional.”
She saw that Renie looked confused. “I have to think it
through, really, I do. By the way, did you notice someone moving around in the ICU while we were there?”
Renie made a face. “I don’t think so. Why? Did
you?”
Judith hesitated. “I did, and my first reaction was
that it was a nurse, but there was something not quite
right about whoever it was. Except for all those monitors with their red, green, and yellow lights, it was
completely dark. I could only make out a form. But
now that I think about it, the person wasn’t wearing a
nurse’s cap or scrubs.”
“It could have been a male nurse,” Renie said. “They
don’t wear caps. It might even have been a doctor.”
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Judith shook her head. “No. The doctors here wear
either white coats or scrubs. Ditto for the male nurses.
I don’t think this person was dressed like that. But it’s
only an impression.”
“Hunh.” Renie stared up at the ceiling. “Maybe it
was an orderly or the cleaning crew.”
“Maybe,” Judith said, but wasn’t convinced. She remained silent for a few moments, then announced,
“It’s eleven o’clock.”
“Yes.” Renie was trying to get comfortable. “So
what?”
“I want to go to the fourth floor.”
“N-o-o-o,” Renie groaned, pulling the sheet over her
head. “Not tonight. Please, I’m worn out.”
“I’ll go without you,” Judith said with an obstinate
set to her jaw.
“Don’t,” Renie shot back as she emerged from under
the sheet. “You’re as tired as I am. You’ll do yourself
some serious harm. The killer may be loose, and out to
get you. Knock it off. Please.”
“I can’t go to sleep until I find out more about Joe’s
condition,” Judith declared, then pointed a finger at
Renie. “I don’t think Torchy’s going to be any help.
Would you go ask Mr. Mummy to check on Joe?”
“Mr. Mummy?” Renie looked startled. “I thought
you didn’t trust him.”
“I’m not sure I do,” Judith said, “but I can’t see any
danger in asking him to peek in on Joe.”
“Other than that Mr. Mummy’s probably asleep,”
Renie responded. “It’s not fair.”
“I’ll bet he wouldn’t mind,” Judith asserted. “He’s
always nosing around, and this would make him feel
useful. Can you ask him?”
“No,” Renie replied, “I’m utterly beat. Dial his room
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number. If he doesn’t answer, one of the nurses will
pick up the line and wake him. But,” she added in a
disapproving tone, “I think it’s a bad idea.”
Judith ignored her cousin and punched in Mr.
Mummy’s number. It rang six times before a woman
answered.
“Excuse me,” Judith said, trying not to notice
Renie’s critical expression, “is Mr. Mummy
in Room
322 sleeping?”
“I don’t think so,” the nurse replied. “When I looked
in on him five minutes ago, he wasn’t there.”
“What is this?” Judith railed after hanging up the
phone. “Musical beds? First Joe, now Mr. Mummy.”
“The nurse didn’t say that Mr. Mummy was moved,
did she?” Renie said in a reasonable tone. “Maybe he’s
just wandering around, trying to settle down for the
night.”
“On a broken leg?” Judith shot back. “No, coz. Mr.
Mummy may be doing some snooping of his own.”
“To what purpose?” Renie responded.
Judith was brooding. “I don’t know. I wish I’d asked
Woody to check out Mr. Mummy.”
“You think he’s a crook?” Renie asked, stifling a
yawn.
“I don’t know what to think,” Judith replied, “except
that he’s a phony.”
Renie’s eyes were half closed. “At this point, I don’t
care if Mr. Mummy is really Fidel Castro. Take that
damned Valium and knock yourself out. I’m going to
sleep.” She turned off the bedside lamp.
For several minutes, Judith lay with arms folded
across her chest, face set in a stubborn line, and worrisome thoughts racing through her brain like mice in a
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maze. But though her mind was active, her body betrayed her. Weariness tugged at every muscle, every
sinew, and, finally, at her eyelids. She reached for the
little cup with its little pill, but her hand failed. Judith
fell asleep with the light still burning by her bed.
The sounds and smells of the morning routine
were becoming all too familiar to Judith. The food
arriving in the big steel carts, the cleaning crew’s
disinfectant, the clatter of breakfast trays, the soft
padding of the nurses in the hallway, the incessant
announcements over the PA system—all had piqued
Judith’s curiosity at first. But on this Thursday, the
fourth day at Good Cheer, they were nothing more
than a tiresome reminder of her confinement and
concerns. Her first thought was of Joe. She fumbled
for the phone as Renie got out of bed and went over
to the window.
“The sun’s out,” Renie announced. “Maybe it’s
warming up enough that the snow will start melting.”
Judith ignored the remark as she dialed the fourthfloor nurses’ station. To her dismay, the line was busy.
“It’s a cruel plot,” Judith declared, “just to make me
crazy. Furthermore,” she went on, taking her frustration out on Renie, “I don’t see how you seem so awake
this early when you’re in the hospital. The rest of the
time, you don’t get up until almost ten, and even then
you’re not exactly bright-eyed.”
“At home, I don’t have thirty people running around
outside my bedroom door,” Renie replied. “Nor am I
usually in pain. Not to mention that until recently, I
could sleep in more than just one position. Hospitals
are not conducive to sleeping in.”
Judith barely heard the rest of her cousin’s explana-260
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tion. She dialed the fourth floor again; the line was still
engaged.
Corinne Appleby appeared, going through the usual
check on the cousins’ conditions. Renie asked the
nurse if the weather was getting warmer. Corinne
didn’t know, and seemed unusually glum.
“What’s wrong?” Judith inquired, hoping to ingratiate herself so that the nurse might prove useful in the
quest for Joe. “Has being stuck over in the residence
hall gotten you down?”
“In a way,” Corinne replied without looking up from
Judith’s chart. “My mother’s not feeling at all well, and
I can’t be home with her.”
“Is she alone?” Judith asked.
Corinne made some notations before responding.
“We’re lucky to have a neighbor who can look in on
her. Stay with her, too, when I’m on duty. But this is
the longest time in years that I’ve been away. It’s very
hard on Mother.”
“And on you, I imagine,” Judith said with sympathy.
“You must worry so. I know I do when I’m away from
my mother, though we have wonderful neighbors who
help out.”
“You’re fortunate,” Corinne replied, fine lines appearing on her forehead. “Is your mother able to get
around on her own?”
“She uses a walker,” Judith replied, then glanced at
Renie. “My cousin’s mother is pretty much confined to
a wheelchair, but she has very kind neighbors, too. Of
course our mothers are both very elderly.”
Corinne gave a brief nod. “Yes. My mother isn’t
much older than you are. You’re really blessed that
you’ll be able to come out of this surgery and be independent. So many people don’t appreciate the good
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health they’ve been given. I can’t help but take offense
at that. But of course I see so many patients who complain about the least little infirmity. They don’t understand real suffering and helplessness.”
Judith gave Corinne a compassionate smile. “That’s
true. I feel so helpless now, but I know I’ll get over it.
I’m grateful for that. Meanwhile, though—are you
aware that my husband is on the fourth floor as a result
of a severe stab wound?”
Corinne gave a start. “That was your husband? No.
I didn’t realize . . . I’m so sorry.”
“They moved him from the ICU to the fourth floor
last night,” Judith explained. “I can’t get through on
the phone this morning. Would it be an imposition to
ask you to check on him for me? I’m very worried.”
“I’ll try,” Corinne said, though she sounded dubious.
“I must finish my rounds first, though.”
“I’d certainly appreciate it,” Judith said. “Of course
I’ll keep calling up there.”
Breakfast arrived while Corinne was taking Renie’s
vitals. “Say,” Renie said to the nurse, “you don’t happen to have an extra tray this morning, do you? I got
cheated on dinner last night, and I’m famished.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Corinne replied, then
turned back to Judith. “We’re going to try to get you
in the shower today. I imagine you’re tired of sponge
baths.”
Judith made a noncommittal noise. The sponge
baths were dreary, but she was frightened by the
thought of standing in a shower. Before starting to eat
her breakfast, she tried to call the fourth floor again.
The line was still busy.
Corinne went off on the rest of her rounds. Judith
nibbled on toast and a soft-boiled egg. Renie, mean-262
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while, was devouring oatmeal mush, grapefruit, toast,
eggs, and bacon.
“If you don’t want all of yours, I’ll eat it,” Renie volunteered.
“I’m not hungry,” Judith admitted. “I’m too worried about Joe.”
Renie started to say something, but stopped when
she saw Margie
Randall enter the room. The recent
widow wore her volunteer’s blue smock and a surprisingly cheerful expression.
“Nurse Appleby told me you had an errand,” Margie
said, smiling at Judith. “I understand it involves your
husband.”
“It does,” Judith said, and explained the situation.
Though Margie didn’t seem particularly moved by
Judith’s plight, she shook her head in commiseration.
“That’s terrible. Those homeless people are dangerous,
not only to themselves, but to others. I hope they catch
whoever did it. Was Mr. Flynn robbed?”
“No,” Judith replied. “What makes you ask?”
“Well . . .” Margie blinked several times. “It seems
like a motive for such an attack, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose,” Judith said. “Did you hear about the
other homeless people who were also victims of stabbings?”
Margie shoved her hands in the pockets of her
smock and avoided Judith’s gaze. “Did I? Yes, I suppose I did. On the news. Or in the paper. I forget exactly.” She back-pedaled out of the room. “I’ll go up to
the fourth floor right now and see what I can find out
about your husband.”
“Weird,” Renie remarked, wiping egg yolk off her
chin.
“Yes,” Judith agreed. “Everything about Margie
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seems weird. When is the funeral for Bob Randall
being held?”
“Saturday, I think,” Renie said, unfolding the morning paper, which had arrived just minutes earlier.
“Let’s see if there’s anything in here about Joe.”
Judith leaned closer, her nerves tingling at the mere
thought of hearing the account of her husband’s attack
in cold black type.
“It’s pretty brief,” Renie said. “There’s about two
inches in the local news roundup in the second section.
Shall I read it out loud?”
“Yes,” Judith said, steeling herself for the worst.
“Please.”
“ ‘A Heraldsgate Hill man was stabbed yesterday at
Viewpoint Park,’ ” Renie read. “ ‘According to police,
Joseph Flynn was allegedly attacked by one of the
homeless persons who have set up a temporary camp
in the park. Flynn, who apparently wandered onto the
site without realizing that it was occupied, was taken to
Good Cheer Hospital, where he is listed in critical condition. Two days ago, a homeless man was stabbed to
death in the same vicinity. No suspects have been
found in either attack.’ ”