by P. W. Child
They’d spent the whole day before on foot, trying to reach Mannheim before dark. Neither had any credentials or money on them, so Nina had to play the pity card to get a free lift for them both from Mannheim to Dillenburg north from there. Unfortunately, the sixty-two-year-old lady Nina was trying to convince had felt it would be better for the two tourists to get a meal, warm shower and a good night’s sleep. And this was why she had spent the night on a couch, playing host to two large cats and an embroidered pillow that reeked of stale cinnamon.Geez, I have to get hold of Sam. My Sam, she reminded herself as she sat up. Her lower back had stepped into the ring with her hips and Nina felt like an old woman, full of aches and pains. Her eyes had not deteriorated, but it was still a problem for her to act normally when she could hardly see. On top of that, both she and her new friend had to keep from being recognized as the two patients missing from Heidelberg’s medical facility. It was particularly hard for Nina, as she had to pretend not to have sore skin and a devastating fever most of the time.
“Good morning!” the kind hostess said from the doorway. With a spatula in one hand she asked in a disturbingly heavy German drawl, “Do you want eggs with your toast, Schatz?”
Nina nodded with a goofy smile, wondering if she looked half as bad as she felt. Before she could ask where the bathroom was, the lady had vanished back into the lime green kitchen where the smell of margarine joined the array of flavors wafting into Nina’s keen nose. Suddenly it hit her. Where is Other Sam?
She recalled the hostess giving them each a couch to sleep on the night before, but his was vacant. Not that she wasn’t relieved to be alone for a bit, but he knew the countryside better than her and he had been serving as her eyes thus far. Nina was still in her jeans and shirt from the hospital, having discarded the scrubs just outside the Heidelberg facility once the majority of eyes were off them.
Throughout the entire time she shared with the other Sam, Nina could not help but wonder how he had passed as Dr. Hilt before he left the hospital after her. Surely the officers on guard would know that a man with a burned face could not possibly have been the late doctor, regardless of a clever disguise and a nametag. Of course, she had no way of discerning his features with the state that her sight was in.
Nina pulled her sleeves over her reddened forearms, feeling the nausea grip her body.
“Toilet?” she managed to call out around the doorway of the kitchen, before bolting down the short hallway the lady pointed to with the spatula. Barely at the door, the waves of convulsions attacked Nina and she quickly slammed the door shut to purge. It was no secret that acute radiation syndrome was causing her gastrointestinal malady, but not receiving treatment for this and the other symptoms only exacerbated her circumstances.
When she had vomited herself even weaker, Nina timidly appeared from the bathroom and made her way to the couch where she’d slept. Another problem was keeping her balance without holding on to the wall as she went. Throughout the small house Nina realized the rooms were all unoccupied.Could he have left me here? The bastard! She frowned under the spell of the climbing fever she could not fight anymore. With the added disorientation of her flawed eyes, she strained just to make it to the warped object she hoped to be the large couch. Nina’s bare feet dragged along the carpet as the woman rounded the corner to bring her some breakfast.
“Oh! Mein Gott!” she shrieked in panic at the sight of the small frame of her guest collapsing. Briskly the lady of the house set the tray down on the table and rushed to come to Nina’s aid. “My darling, are you alright?”
Nina could not tell her that she had been in hospital. In fact, she could hardly tell her anything. Spinning in her skull, her brain hissed while her breath felt like an open oven door. Her eyes rolled back as she went limp in the arms of the lady. Soon after Nina came to again, her face feeling ice cold under trickles of sweat beads. A washcloth was on her forehead and she could feel an uncomfortable fumbling at her thighs, which alarmed her into a swift upright position. An indifferent cat met her gaze as her hand grabbed at the furry body and released immediately afterward. “Oh,” was all Nina could manage, and laid back down.
“How are you feeling?” the lady asked.
“I must be getting sick from the cold here in a strange country,” Nina blabbered softly to maintain her deceit. Yeah right, her inner voice mocked. A Scot recoiling at German autumn. Good one!
Then her hostess said the golden words. “Liebchen, is there someone I should call to come and get you? Husband? Family?” Nina’s moist, pallid face lit up with hope. “Yes, please!”
“Your friend here did not even say goodbye this morning. When I got up to drive you two to town he was just gone. Did you two have a fight?”
“No, he said he was in a hurry to get to his brother’s house. Maybe he thought I would hold him up, being sick,” Nina answered, and realized that her hypothesis was probably precisely true. When the two of them spent the day walking along the backcountry road outside of Heidelberg, they did not exactly bond. But he did tell her what he could remember about his identity. At the time, Nina had found the other Sam’s memory remarkably selective, but she had not wanted to rock the boat while she was this dependent on his guidance and tolerance.
She remembered that he did wear a long white coat, but other than that it was almost impossible to see his face, even if he still had one. What vexed her a bit was the lack of shock expressed by the sight of him wherever they asked for directions or interacted with others. Surely, had they seen a man whose face and torso had been reduced to toffee, people would make some sort of sound or exclaim some kind of sympathetic word? But they responded in a trivial fashion, showing no sign of concern for the man’s clearly fresh injuries.
“What happened to your cell phone?” the lady asked her - a perfectly normal question to which Nina effortlessly shot the most obvious lie.
“I was robbed. My bag with my phone, money, all of that. Gone. I suppose they knew I was a tourist and targeted me,” Nina explained as she took the woman’s phone with a nod of thanks. She dialed the number she had so well memorized. When the phone rang on the other end of the line, it gave Nina a jump in energy and just a little warmth in her belly.
“Cleave.”My God, what a beautiful word, Nina thought, suddenly feeling much safer than she had in a long time. How long since she had heard the voice of her old friend, occasional lover and periodic colleague? Her heart jumped. Nina had not seen Sam since he was abducted by the Order of the Black Sun while they were on an excursion seeking the famed 18th Century Amber Room in Poland almost two months ago.
“S-Sam?” she said, almost laughing.
“Nina?” he cried out. “Nina? Is that you?”
“Aye. How are you doing?” she smiled weakly. Her body ached all over and she could hardly sit up.
“Jesus Christ, Nina! Where are you? Are you in danger?” he asked frantically through the heavy hum of a moving car.
“I’m alive, Sam. Barely, though. But I’m safe. With a lady in Mannheim here in Germany. Sam? Can you come and get me?” her voice cracked. The request hit Sam in the heart. Such a feisty, intelligent and independent woman was not likely to beg for rescue like a small child.
“Of course I’ll come to get you! Mannheim is a short drive from where I am. Give me the address and we’ll come get you,” Sam exclaimed on excitedly. “Oh my God, you have no idea how happy we are that you’re okay!”
“What is all this we?” she asked. “And why are you in Germany?”
“To get you to a hospital back home, naturally. We saw on the news that there was a heap of hell loose where Detlef left you. And when we got here you were missing! I cannot believe this,” he raved, his laughter rife with relief.
“I’ll give you to the dear lady who took me in for the address. See you soon, okay?” Nina replied through her heavy-laden breath and gave the phone to her hostess before falling into a deep sleep.
When Sam had said ‘we’, she’d had a bad feeling t
hat it meant he’d sprung Purdue from whatever deserving cage he’d been imprisoned in after Detlef had cold-cocked him beneath Chernobyl. But with the illness ripping through her system like a punishment from the Morphine god deserted in her wake, she did not care for the moment. All she wanted to do was fade away into the arms of whatever awaited.
She could still hear the lady explaining what the house looked like when she abandoned control and slipped into a feverish slumber.
Chapter 15 – Bad Medicine
Sister Barken sat on the thick leather of the vintage office chair with her elbows resting on her knees. Under the monotonous buzz of the luminescent light her hands cradled the sides of her head as she listened to the administrator’s account of Dr. Hilt’s demise. The stout nursing sister wept for the doctor she had known for barely seven months. She had not gotten along smoothly with him, but she was a compassionate woman who truly felt sorry about the man’s death.
“The funeral is tomorrow,” the administrator said before she left the office.
“I saw this on the news, you know, about the murders. Dr. Fritz told me not to come in unnecessarily. He did not want me to be in danger too,” she told her subordinate, Nurse Marx. “Marlene, you must ask for a transfer. I cannot stand worrying about you every time I’m off duty.”
“Don’t worry about me, Sister Barken,” Marlene Marx smiled, passing her one of the cups of instant soup she’d prepared. “I think whoever did this must have had a specific reason, you know? Like a target that was already here.”
“You don’t think…?” Sister Barken gawked at Nurse Marx.
“Dr. Gould,” Nurse Marx affirmed the Sister’s fears. “I think it was someone who wanted to kidnap her and now that they have taken her,” she shrugged, “the danger to staff and patients is gone. I mean, I bet the poor people who died only met their end because they got in the killer’s way, you know? They probably tried to stop him.”
“I understand that theory, sweetheart, but why then is the ‘Sam’ patient also missing?” asked Sister Barken. By the look on Marlene’s face she could see that the young nurse had not yet thought of that. In silence she sipped her soup.
“So sad that he took Dr. Gould, though,” Marlene lamented. “She had been very ill and her eyes were only getting worse, poor woman. On another note, my mother was furious when she heard about Dr. Gould’s abduction. She was angry that all this time was right here in my care I didn’t tell her.”
“Oh boy,” Sister Barken empathized with her. “She must have given you hell. I’ve seen that woman upset and she scares even me.”
The two dared to have a giggle in this bleak situation. Dr. Fritz entered the Third Floor nurse’s office with a folder under his arm. His face was serious, halting their meager joviality instantly. Something that resembled sorrow or disappointment shown in his eyes as he made himself a cup of coffee.
“Guten Morgen, Dr. Fritz,” the young nurse said to break the awkward silence.
He didn’t answer her. Sister Barken was surprised at his rudeness and used her authoritarian voice to shake the man to a measure of decency with the same greeting, only a few decibels louder. Dr. Fritz jumped around, jolted from his comatose state of thought.
“Oh, I’m sorry, ladies,” he gasped. “Good morning. Good morning,” he nodded to each, wiping his sweaty palm on his coat before stirring his coffee.
It was very unlike Dr. Fritz to act this way. To most women who encountered him, he was Germany’s medical field’s answer to George Clooney. His confident charm was his power, only trumped by his medical prowess. Yet here he stood in the humble Third Floor office with sweaty palms and an apologetic disposition that baffled both ladies.
Sister Barken and Nurse Marx quietly exchanged frowns before the robust veteran stood up to wash her cup. “Dr. Fritz, what has upset you? Nurse Marx and I volunteer to find whoever upset you and treat them to a free barium enema with some of my special Chai tea…straight from the pot!”
Nurse Marx could not help but choke on her soup from unexpected laughter, although she was not sure how the doctor would react. Her wide eyes stared stiffly at her superior’s in an imperceptible reprimand as her jaw hung open in amusement. Sister Barken was unperturbed. She was very comfortable using humor to elicit information, even personal and highly emotional information.
Dr. Fritz smiled and shook his head. He enjoyed the approach, although what he was harboring was by no means worthy of a jest.
“Much as I appreciate the valiant gesture, Sister Barken, my distress is not caused by a person as much as by a person’s fate,” he said in his most civilized tone.
“May I inquire of whom?” Sister Barken pried.
“Actually, I insist,” he replied. “Both of you treated Dr. Gould, so it would be more than appropriate for you to know the results of Nina’s tests.”
Both of Marlene’s hands lifted silently to her face, covering her mouth and nose in a gesture of anticipation. Sister Barken understood Nurse Marx’s reaction, as she herself did not feel too positive about the news. Besides, if it had Dr. Fritz in a bubble of quiet ignorance to the world it had to be hefty.
“It is a setback, especially after she had been healing so rapidly at first,” he started, tightening his grip on the file. “The tests show a significant deterioration in her blood work. Cellular damage was too severe for the time it took for her to be admitted for treatment.”
“Oh sweet Jesus,” Marlene whined in her hands. Tears filled her eyes, but Sister Barken’s face remained in the expression she was trained to receive bad news.
Blank.
“What kind of level are we looking at?” Sister Barken asked.
“Well, her intestines and lungs seem to be bearing the brunt of the developing cancer, but there is also clear indication that she had suffered some minute neurological damage that is probably the cause of her deteriorating eye sight, Sister Barken. She was only tested, so I will not be able to make a definite diagnosis until I get to examine her again.”
In the background, Nurse Marx was whimpering softly at the news, but she tried her best to compose herself and not allow a patient to influence her so personally. She knew it was not professional to cry over a patient, but this was not just any patient. It was Dr. Nina Gould, her inspiration and an acquaintance she had a very soft spot for.
“I just hope we can find her soon, so that we can bring her back in before it gets any worse than it has to be. We simply cannot just discard hope like this, even though,” he said as he looked down at the young, crying nurse, “it’s pretty hard to stay positive.”
“Dr. Fritz, the German Air Force Commander is sending a man to interview you sometime today,” Dr. Fritz’s assistant announced from the doorway. She did not have time to ask why Nurse Marx was in tears, as she was in a hurry to return to the small office of Dr. Fritz that she was in charge of.
“Who?” he asked, confidence returned.
“He says his name is Werner. Dieter Werner from the public office of the German Air Force. It’s regarding the burn victim that disappeared from the hospital. I checked – he has military authority to be here on behalf of Lieutenant-General Harold Meier.” She practically recite all of this in one single breath.
“I don’t know what to tell these people anymore,” Dr. Fritz complained. “They cannot clean up their own mess and now they come and waste my time with…” and off he went muttering furiously. His assistant gave the two nurses one more glance before rushing after her boss.
“What is that about?” Sister Barken sighed. “I’m glad I’m not in the poor doctor’s shoes. Come on, Nurse Marx. Time for our rounds.” She resumed her normal austere form of command just to establish that work time had begun. And with her usual stern annoyance she added, “And wipe your eyes, for Pete’s sake, Marlene, before patients think you are as high as they are!”
Several hours later Nurse Marx took a breather. She had just emerged from the Maternity Ward, where she had been donating her shift time for
two hours each day. Two of the regular maternity nurses had put in compassionate leave after the recent murders, so the ward was a bit short staffed. In the nurses’ office she took the weight off her sore feet and she listened to the promising rumble of the kettle.
While she waited, a few rays of gilded light illuminated the table and chairs in front of the small fridge and led her gaze along the precise lines of the furniture. In her state of fatigue it brought to mind the sad news of earlier. Right there on the smooth surface of the off-white table she could still see the folder of Dr. Nina Gould, lying there like any other chart she might read. Only this one had a smell to it. A rotten smell of decay permeated from it, choking Nurse Marx until she jumped from the horrid dream with a sudden flail of her hand. She almost sent her teacup flying to the hard floor, but caught it just in time, employing those adrenaline-fuelled reflexes of a sudden start.
“Oh my goodness!” she whispered in a puff of panic, holding the porcelain cup tightly. Her eyes fell on the barren top of the table where there was no file in sight. To her relief it had just been an ugly mirage of a recent shock, but she wished sorely that that was the case with the actual news contained therein. Why could that, too, not just have been a bad dream? Poor Nina!
Marlene Marx felt her eyes moisten again, but this time it was not for Nina’s condition. It was because she had no idea whether the beautiful, dark-haired historian was even alive, let alone where she’d been taken by the stonehearted villain.
Chapter 16 – Merry Meet/ Un-Merry Part