by Jaden Skye
“Konrad said he’d just come to see Alana, that he loved her and she had to trust him. Does any of that make sense? You can check out Konrad’s schedule if you need to see where he was the night.”
It all actually made perfect sense to Cindy, but she couldn’t say that to Ann yet.
“And what about Owen?” Cindy continued, desperate to know where he fit in. If he’d been there constantly, Ann had to have heard him say something.
“I didn’t hear Owen say anything at all,” Ann repeated.
“You never spoke to the police about this, right?” Cindy just had to be certain.
“How could I? Up to now nobody paid any attention to what I said,” Ann’s face suddenly flushed. “I’m glad you’re listening, I really am. It’s a huge relief to tell you this.”
“I’ll do more than listen,” said Cindy mobilizing. “I’m going to confront both Alana and Konrad myself.”
“Do what you have to,” Ann suddenly seemed very tired then. She slumped a bit back on her cushions.
“Thank you, Ann, thank you,” Cindy stroked her shoulder gently. “You’ve helped so much, you can’t imagine.”
“I’m so glad I could,” Ann managed to say, before her eyes closed once again and she drifted back to sleep.
*
Trembling, Cindy fled from Ann’s room to the head nurse, Beatrice Flann’s, office.
“I’ve heard incredible things about Tara’s case,” Cindy dove in without any preamble the moment she entered the room and saw Beatrice standing there.
“Heard what, from who?” Beatrice was flustered by the way Cindy barged in.
“I just spoke to Ann, the patient who shared a room with Tara in the ICU,” Cindy announced, waiting to see how Beatrice would respond.
By then Beatrice’s face became immobile and expressionless. “Yes?”
“I’ve learned quite a bit about Tara’s nurse, Alana,” Cindy continued, “and everything is starting to add up.”
“Calm down,” Beatrice said flatly, trying to take the air out of Cindy’s wings.
Beatrice had no effect on Cindy, however. “I learned that Alana was also the nurse for the other woman who died unexpectedly in the hospital a short while ago,” Cindy barreled right along.
“Pure coincidence,” Beatrice spoke emphatically. “The cases have absolutely nothing in common and the police have dismissed the possibility of any connection between them.”
“Ann also said that Alana was the nurse on call in Tara’s room the night she died,” Cindy went on. “Ann said Alana was agitated, that she heard her yelling at Tara. Ann also heard Tara say she wanted to die.”
“Fantasy and nonsense,” Beatrice uttered.
“Well, we can check out and see if in fact, Alana was the nurse assigned to Tara that night,” Cindy pushed it.
“The night nurse was off that night,” Beatrice replied flatly. “The night rotation was up for grabs.”
“Was Alana the night nurse?” Cindy asked pointedly.
“This is pathetic and ridiculous,” Beatrice replied emphatically.
Cindy would not be stopped. “Ann said that Konrad then came into Tara’s room to speak with Alana and calm her down. Obviously, there’s a personal relationship between them.”
Beatrice Flann stood up, disgusted. “There’s no length you won’t go to, to dig up dirt, is there?” she said. “Excuse me, I have more important things to do than listen to the deranged fantasy of a woman who has just emerged, half sane, from a coma. Ann is not a reliable witness either medically or legally. So, what she tells you amounts to nothing at all!”
Cindy wouldn’t back down. “Is there any way of checking the whereabouts of Konrad that night?”
“None at all,” Beatrice snapped, “the very idea of it is preposterous. “You’ve become desperate, grabbing at anything at all to free your client. Why implicate Konrad in this? He’s a wonderful administrator and a wonderful man.”
“I’m not implicating anyone,” Cindy responded, “just reporting what I’ve heard.”
“But who have you heard it from?” Beatrice walked to her office door, flung it open and pointed, indicating that it was time for Cindy to walk through the door and leave her alone.
Chapter 17
Cindy returned to the hotel agitated both by her encounter with Ann and Beatrice. Ann seemed clear and fully able to recall what she’d heard. Was it true that her words had no standing because she’d recently emerged from a coma? Was there some way they could check her report out anyway? Cindy couldn’t wait to talk to Mattheus about it. He was scheduled to go to the jazz festival tonight and spend time with Konrad and the board of directors. Cindy felt it was crucial that he hear what Ann told her before he went.
Cindy dialed Mattheus’s phone immediately. “I have incredible information,” she started as soon as he picked up.
“Me too,” he mumbled on the other end. “It just gets crazier and crazier.”
“What do you have?” Cindy was intrigued.
“The Ranges Hospital has way more than its share of medical mistakes,” Mattheus started, “along with poor overall accountability.”
“What are the mistakes due to?” Cindy asked breathless, “drug use by the staff?”
“No proof of that exactly,” Mattheus replied.
“I thought the Ranges had such a fine reputation,” Cindy remarked.
“So does everyone else,” Mattheus replied. “These facts are something the hospital does their best to cover up.”
Cindy breathed more deeply. She’d felt from the beginning that Owen was innocent and her perceptions were now being shored up.
“I checked Konrad too,” Mattheus continued, “boy, has this guy got a checkered past. He’s worked lots of strange jobs before this, never stayed in one place for long. There’s nothing in his resume that really qualifies him for this job, either. Someone obviously got the job for him. Who knows who or why?”
“What a horrible mess,” said Cindy.
“It is,” Mattheus agreed. “Looking at the whole picture, there’s more than enough reasonable doubt here to get Owen out of jail.”
Cindy felt validated.
I’ll be seeing Konrad in a little while,” Mattheus continued. “Tell me, what do you have for me that I need to know before I see him at the festival?”
“Are you sitting down?” Cindy started.
“Of course I am,” Mattheus answered, surprised. “Why?”
“I spoke to the patient who shared Tara’s room, and found out a bunch of things” Cindy continued. “First of all she told me that Alana was also the nurse of the other patient at this hospital who died unexpectedly a few weeks ago.”
“Oh brother,” breathed Mattheus. “Why haven’t we heard this?”
“Ann also said that she heard Alana yelling at Tara the night she was killed. And, she heard Tara asking to die!”
“Wait a minute, that’s too much. Is this woman crazy or something?” Mattheus couldn’t swallow it. “These are far out claims she’s making.”
“Far out or not, it’s what she said. And I believe her,” Cindy added. “At the very least some of her claims can be corroborated.”
“For instance?” asked Mattheus.
“Ann said she heard Owen saying to Tara that she’d never be beautiful again. That has already been reported, the very same words.”
Mattheus became quieter. “Go on,” he said.
“Ann also said that she heard Konrad come into the room the night Tara died. He came in to calm Alana down. Ann heard Konrad tell Alana he loved her. How could she possible know Konrad’s name, how could she loved he was in a relationship with Alana?”
Mattheus fell completely silent.
“We have to check out where Konrad was that night,” Cindy continued. “And, the head of nursing, Beatrice Flann, already corroborated that Alana was the nurse assigned to the patient who died unexpectedly in the hospital a few weeks ago. She said it was a coincidence and the police dism
issed the connection.”
“Facts and fiction mixed together,” Mattheus murmured.
“Maybe there’s no fiction here, just facts,” said Cindy.
“And even if Konrad did come to see Alana in Tara’s room the night she died, what’s the connection with Tara’s dying?” Mattheus paused, considering what he was hearing.
“Who knows?” asked Cindy. “Maybe Alana was doing a favor for him, or vice versa? It’s worth checking further.”
“It’s more than worth it, we have to do it,” said Mattheus, “I’ll confront him with everything at the festival tonight.”
*
The Jazz festival in Jamaica, famous all over the Caribbean, was in full swing when Mattheus arrived. Suntanned and dressed in a white linen summer suit and slacks, he was glad to go alone. Right now he needed the freedom of being able to roam around unencumbered, a magnet for unexpected clues. Of course Cindy was never the kind of hang onto him, but he could be tougher without her at his side.
Mattheus looked at the people streaming in from everywhere to enjoy the fantastic sounds of top jazz bands playing their hearts out under the stars on the rolling hills. With drinks plentifully available at the booths on the side, the mood was festive and rambunctious. Thanks to the police, the Board of Directors of the hospital had reserved a seat for Mattheus among them up front. Mattheus approached, wondering if he’d have to sit through the entire concert before getting a chance to talk.
The moment Mattheus stopped at his ticket’s row, a tall, nervous man stood up and greeted him.
“How do you do,” the man said, “I’m Phil Adams, Chairman of the Board of Directors for the Ranges Hospital. I suppose you’re Mattheus?”
Mattheus was impressed. He was seated next to the biggest fish without even trying.
“Yes, I’m Mattheus,” he said over the loud music. “You’re expecting me?”
“Please sit down,” Phil said quickly, indicating an empty seat next to his own.
Mattheus wondered if this was a coup or if he was being sidetracked.
“Great seat, great company,” Mattheus started, “great music.”
Phil Adams was not in a jovial mood. “The police arranged for this meeting,” he said under his breath. “It’s not exactly something I look forward to.”
“Are we supposed to talk here?” asked Mattheus going along with his tone.
Phil turned to Mattheus abruptly then. “What do you want with us? Do you know how badly Jamaica needs a hospital like the one we have? Don’t we have enough difficulty as it is?”
“Hey, I didn’t actually start all the trouble,” Mattheus reminded him.
Phil’s eyebrows rose, “But you’re adding to it whether you realize it or not. People die during comas all the time.”
“Tara didn’t die, she was killed,” said Mattheus.
Phil cleared his throat and looked in front of him. “The press are relentless and now you! We’re taking care of the problem. You’ll be happy to know that people are about to be fired,” he said grimly. “We’re hoping that will silence the papers, give the dogs their pieces of red meat.”
“Who’s going to be fired and why?” asked Mattheus, disturbed by his way of putting it.
But, before Phil could answer, Konrad suddenly appeared out of the crowd, weaving ever so slightly as he drew closer.
“Ah, here is Konrad, our hospital administrator,” said Phil, getting up as Konrad came to their row of seats.
Mattheus stood up as well. His meeting with Konrad seemed carefully orchestrated as he watched Konrad and Phil nodded at each other.
“I understand the two of you have met before,” Phil said to Mattheus, abruptly.
“We have,” Mattheus replied.
“I believe Konrad is the person you want to talk to,” Phil continued. “Our hospital administrator can answer any questions you may have. Not here, of course. Way too noisy.”
This was a clear invitation to Mattheus to leave his seat and go with Konrad to some place at the festival where they could talk out of the public gaze.
Mattheus accepted the invitation gladly. “How about it, Konrad?” he asked.
“Come with me,” said Konrad, thin lipped and annoyed.
Mattheus nodded good bye to Phil and followed Konrad through the throngs of people who were swaying, singing and thoroughly enjoying both the music and star lit night.
“Great festival, great country,” said Mattheus.
Konrad turned around and faced him. “That’s not why you’re here,” his words slurred a bit.
Drunk, thought Mattheus, as Konrad continued edging his way through the crowd up a slightly craggy hill.
Finally Mattheus and Konrad reached the top, away from the throngs of people, music and noise.
“Okay, let’s have it,” Konrad said then, “you’re not here for the music, you’re here to take us all down.”
“I’m here to find out what happened to Tara,” Mattheus answered carefully.
“Yeah, yeah, a good excuse. I heard it a thousand times. Everyone wants to blame someone when a patient dies. The doctors and nurses are convenient aren’t they, sitting ducks.”
“You know it’s interesting,” Mattheus veered off casually, “I was surprised to find out that when Tara was in a coma she shared a room.”
That took Konrad off guard. “What’s surprising about it? Nothing,” he said. “All patients in comas share a room. They have to be carefully monitored, don’t they? Besides, do you know how expensive it is to keep someone like that alive? Do you know how little room we have for them at our hospital?”
“No, I didn’t know that,” Mattheus replied simply.
“Then cut us some slack, Mister,” Konrad burst out. “We’re not exactly equipped to keep someone here in a coma for two months.”
“Then why didn’t you move Tara to another place?” Mattheus shot back.
“The family wouldn’t hear of it,” Konrad retorted. “Believe me, we tried.”
Mattheus didn’t know that.
“Tara belonged in a hospice, but her husband refused. You know why? He wouldn’t have the same kind of access to her there. They wouldn’t let him hover over her the way we did.”
“There was pressure on you to get Tara out of the hospital for lots of reasons,” Mattheus remarked. “The case was making a stink, causing bad publicity.”
“Sure,” Konrad calmed down a minute and looked at Mattheus for a long time. “So what’s wrong with that? There’s pressure on me for everything, Mister. The buck ends here.”
“Rough job,” Mattheus commented.
“I’ve had worse,” said Konrad.
“It’s up to you to oversee who’s hired here, right?” Mattheus continued, glad that Konrad was like a loose cannon tonight, talking freely.
Konrad’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah I oversee who’s hired. So what?”
“So you knew about Alana’s past, didn’t you?” Mattheus said slowly.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Konrad looked puzzled for a second, then froze up. “You leave Alana out of it.”
“You knew that Alana had been fired from her past job for negligent patient care, right?”
Konrad lunged at Mattheus for a second and then pulled back. “See, that’s what I mean,” he breathed, infuriated. “No one gives anyone a break. Did you take time to check the facts of the case? The person Alana took care of was old; she died of old age. The family jumped all over it and blamed her for no reason.”
Mattheus remained unruffled. “You can say anything you want to excuse it, but how come you decided to hire a person with a past like that?”
Konrad stared at Mattheus in pain. “You stay the hell away from Alana,” he muttered. “She’s one hell of a beautiful woman and a fabulous nurse.”
“She has her moods though, doesn’t she?” Mattheus pressed harder.
“Oh yeah?” Konrad became furious. “Who’d you hear that from?”
“Just heard it,” said
Mattheus, not wanting to tell him what the patient in Tara’s room had said.
“So, if she has her moods she has a right to them, doesn’t she?” Konrad suddenly guffawed. “You’re gonna tell me now a person’s doesn’t have right to have moods? You think it’s easy working here for rich, white people? You think they were all so good to Alana?”
“Tara never hurt Alana in anyway, though?” asked Mattheus, hoping to get more out of him.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Konrad’s eyes narrowed. “You’re accusing Alana of killing Tara now?” He couldn’t bear that thought of it. “That’s too much, way too much, Mister.”
“Listen,” Mattheus took a step closer, wanting to turn up the heat. “I’m not saying Alana killed Tara, I’m saying there are plenty of ways medical mistakes happen all the time.”
Konrad lifted his hands as if he were going to grab Mattheus for a second. “Not at this hospital, they don’t.”
“Oh yeah they do,” Mattheus got into his face. “In fact, from the research I’ve done, I see that there are more medical mistakes at your hospital than in most others. And, you guys got a drug problem and lousy accountability too. I’m sure your donors don’t know about all of it, either.”
Konrad stopped in his tracks and froze. In the silence between them the sound of the jazz below sounded almost like a distant cry.
“You get the hell out of Jamaica,” Konrad said then, in a threatening tone. “Or, for all you know you could be strung up to an IV too.”
Then he turned swiftly and fled down the hill, disappearing into the throngs of drunken people, happily singing along to the music below.
Chapter 18
When Mattheus returned from the jazz festival Cindy was downstairs in the hotel lounge, having a glass of wine alone. It was unusual for her to do this, but also comforting to be with others and listen to the supper music, lightly playing. Suddenly Cindy felt someone step up behind her, lean down and pull her into his arms. Startled, she jumped.
“It’s only me,” Mattheus whispered. “You weren’t expecting someone else, were you?”