by Judith Lucci
Everyone stared at her, their eyes showing their disbelief at her behavior.
Alex was dumbfounded. "You need to go with us. You're her direct superior. Besides, Diane's behavior is heroic. She saved the lives of staff and patients. You must go!"
Bette looked scorchingly at Alex. "Ms. Destephano, I set my own priorities!"
Dr. Monique Desmonde, the CCMC chief of psychiatry, looked weary as she entered the executive suite. Having offered support to the hospital staff that was present, she was constantly being harassed by the media. Monique gave Bette a disgusted look and said, "Have you seen or talked to Sheila Monroe's family? They're local. I've already seen them, and they're traumatized. I can assure you that once their grief subsides, her father is going to be angry. I suggest you go see them and offer them anything you can to avoid a lawsuit. I also suggest you meet with your emergency department staff and your surgery people and help them work through some of the trauma they've encountered the past two days. I met with the Surgery staff today. They've got a lot to work though. The emergency department staff is even more traumatized and will need considerable help."
"I'll have you know, Dr. Desmonde, that I have no experience in psychiatry. I don’t do psychobabble. My role is to run a nursing service. You are the psychiatrist - you do it! Besides, I'm going on vacation tomorrow afternoon and have important things to tie up."
"Ms. Farve, how can you run a nursing service when half your staff is out sick, fearing voodoo hexes, and those that remained are either dead, dying, or grieving? Your job is to support your staff! Now get the hell out there and do it!" Dr. Desmonde got up from her chair and opened the door for Bette.
Bette immediately left.
Monique looked at Don Montgomery and spoke directly. "That woman is worthless and incompetent. Why do you keep her? Her management style is founded on control and fear. Her staff neither like nor trust her. From what I can see, she certainly isn't representative of the philosophy of nursing that prevails here at CCMC. It's unforgivable that she hasn't seen the victims' families or spent time with her staff. It's a damn good thing she is leaving tomorrow, or I'd probably kill her." Dr. Desmonde looked around the room, and she saw that all heads at the conference table were nodding in agreement, except for Don.
Alex suppressed a smile, and wanted to give Monique a standing ovation.
Don answered in an irritated voice. "Thanks for your comments, Dr. Desmonde. We've more important things to discuss than the leadership of nursing at CCMC." He looked at his watch. "Elizabeth is giving a press statement confirming the deaths. She'll also be confirming that Diane Bradley is in surgery and that CCMC knows of no motive for the emergency department shootings."
"Have we heard anything from the police?" Dr. Desmonde asked.
"No," Dr. Ashley replied, "but I expect we'll be seeing Captain Francoise soon. How was he treating the staff he was interviewing?"
Dr. Ashley looked so fatigued and weary that Alex was concerned for him. He wasn’t a spring chicken, and he was carrying most of the administrative burden at CCMC.
"Actually, he was fairly good, at least as good as Jack can be. He's pretty hard-nosed, but he knows these people have been under tremendous stress. At several points he was actually gentle," Dr. Desmonde responded.
"Glad to hear that," Alex said. "Yesterday, he seemed to be pretty rough with one of them. Monique, it sounds like you know him. Any inside information we should have?"
Dr. Desmonde laughed, her long dark curls shook, and her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled. “Well, I can’t tell you everything, but I've known Jack Francoise since we were kids. We grew up together, lived in the same neighborhood and our parents were friends. We even had a few dates in high school.”
Alex was speechless for a moment, unable to believe the revelation. She was fit to be tied. She had great respect for Monique Desmonde. “What, you dated him. Yuk, OMG.”
Monique ignored Alex and continued, “What I do know is that he's tough, a straight-shooter, and honest. His bark is much worse than his bite. I'm glad he's assigned to us. Not all New Orleans cops are as honest or first-rate. And Alex, he’s really not so bad."
Alex was surprised and pleased by Monique's favorable review of Jack Francoise. She made a mental note that Monique probably knew Mitch, too, since he'd also gone to school with the police captain.
As Monique finished speaking, Liz returned from the press conference. Her cheeks were highly flushed and her eyes were bright. "We are big news. The media loves the idea of a ‘Cursed World-Class Hospital’. Every major newspaper and national publication is represented. After I read the statement, I took several questions from reporters."
Alex said, "How'd it go?"
"Pretty well. They wanted to know what safety precautions we're taking to prevent this from happening again, and they wanted to know if CCMC was a safe place to come for medical care. One reporter even asked if the staff were afraid to come to work. Of course, I told him no. Only one question really bothered me."
"What was that?" Dr. Ashley asked, his face reflecting worry.
"One journalist asked me if the emergency department shootings were the work of the voodoo curse." Elizabeth was interrupted by Don.
He howled at her, "What the hell'd you say?"
Elizabeth looked angrily at Don. "I denied it, of course. I told them, based on the preliminary evidence, the emergency department shootings were the result of gunmen after narcotics."
Alex turned to Elizabeth. "That seemed to satisfy him?"
Elizabeth shook her head and said, "I couldn't tell. He mentioned twice that he had it on good authority that the incident was related to the Raccine case and involved a voodoo curse directed at Crescent City Medical Center."
Dr. Ashley said, "Where was this journalist from?"
"I don't know. Local, I think. He didn't identify himself. He had a Cajun accent."
"So what'd you say to him?" Don confronted Elizabeth.
Elizabeth gave him an irritated look and said, "I denied the rumor and attributed it to gunmen after drugs. I told you. Do you forget I'm on your side? Did you even listen to what I said?"
"Side! Who the hell is worried about sides? I'm worried about staying in business. Stop whining about who's on who's side." Don turned and left the room.
The group in the conference room began talking with and over each other but stopped when Captain Francoise entered.
He looked smug as he eyed the group around the table. His look and voice were condescending. His eyes rested on Alex. "CCMC's in trouble again. Big news. You’re the lead story on the local and national news networks. You guys just don’t take care of the sick and suffering, you create them."
Confused, Dr. Desmonde looked at Jack Francoise and said, "Jack, please, we're under considerable pressure here. We're all feeling a lot of stress. Finished your investigation? What have you turned up?"
The captain gave Monique a short look and said, "I've some preliminary information. First of all, we've had to call in the Drug Enforcement Agency and the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. It's standard procedure. We have identified the dead gunman and he's a known drug dealer, user, and snitch. He's got a rap sheet three feet long. The emergency department nurses say the second gunman, the one with the glass head injury, had dreadlocks and spoke with a foreign accent, Jamaican or some sort of Caribbean lilt. Don't know who he is yet. We're trying to pick up prints, but doubt we'll get any good ones. There seems to be some question of whether there was even a third man. My men are asking questions. The emergency department staff only report seeing two gunmen. Anybody here know about the third man?"
Nobody spoke.
"Do you think any of our staff could identify the second gunman, the one with the dreadlocks?" Dr. Desmonde asked.
"Possibly. Place on his head where the glass hit him is the giveaway. It's gonna be hard to ID him because he was wearing a ski mask. We'll get men on the street to check with the dead man's friends. We should turn up something.”
"Well," replied Dr. Ashley as he continued to look troubled, "at least this is normal, or as normal as these things go. I guess there is really no normal emergency department shoot-out." Dr. Ashley stumbled over his words.
Francoise stared at Ashley and replied sarcastically, “Well, Doc, what do you mean normal? There ain't no such thing as a normal crime. They're all different in lots of ways."
Dr. Ashley looked pensive. "I guess I mean this was a typical drug crime, only they disrupted the running of a hospital and killed two, possibly three, staff members before they got away."
Francoise looked around. "There ain’t nothing normal about this crime. Public ain't gonna think it's normal either. Ain't gonna help your public relations.”
Dr. Ashley’s patience was wearing thin, and he was furious with Captain Francoise. “Captain, what I'm trying to say is that this situation, as horrible as it is, seems more open-and-shut than the case involving Mrs. Raccine. Don't you think it'll be easier to solve?"
"I don't know. Hard to say. Tracking down these slime balls is rough. We may get lucky though. We'll do our best.” He turned to face the others and demanded, “How come nobody saw the third gunman? I think he was there, acting as lookout. Think the staff is holding back some?"
"I doubt it." Alex spoke firmly. "Everyone here at CCMC wants this craziness to end." As soon as she said this, Alex realized how stupid it sounded.
Francoise stared at her, dumbfounded, “What planet are you on, Missy. That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”
Don returned and interrupted Alex. "If we step up security, this shouldn't affect our patient admissions or staffing, as long as people know CCMC is a safe place to come for medical care. I think we should make the very best of this. Elizabeth, we should portray Diane, Sheila, and Ron as medical heroes. Start working on it. Anybody owe you any favors at The Times Picayune? Capitalize on what's happened here and use it to our benefit."
Elizabeth was shocked. After a few seconds, she said, "No. I won’t. It's a bit early to begin this type of media blitz. Let's wait and see what else turns up. For god's sake Don, this entire approach makes me sick. I won't do it. I suggest we simply use the media to reinforce that good and safe medical care is available at CCMC. Nothing else."
"You will do it," Don said stood up and placed his face directly in hers, and gritted his teeth. "You'll do it tomorrow. We need to get away from this voodoo shit. Understand?"
Dr. Desmonde noticed that Captain Francoise was twitching in his seat. She looked at him and said, "Jack, is there anything else you want to say?"
Francoise stared at Don. "You know, you make me sick. You're an asshole. You are supposed to run this place. I can't believe you'd exploit the lives of staff and colleagues to meet your bottom line. You're despicable and disgusting, Montgomery." The captain's voice was quiet. No one disagreed with him.
There was a long silence. Don Montgomery and Captain Francoise glared at each other.
Finally, Alex spoke. "Captain Francoise, please understand our position. We're grieved and horrified by what's happened here in the last two days. I think John and Don were trying to say that the hospital is grateful that what happened today isn’t related to voodoo activity or a curse against this medical center. "
Francoise abruptly interrupted her. "Well, Miss Lawyer lady, I hate to pop your bubble, but these shootings are voodoo. See this?" Jack Francoise withdrew two evidence bags from his briefcase and tossed them on the conference table. Inside the first bag was a strange doll made of sticks, scraps of fabric, and pins. The second bag contained black powder.
No one spoke and an overwhelming sense of fear and dread permeated the room.
Dr. Ashley covered his face with his hands.
The captain continued. "This doll's a gris, representative of something, or someone here at CCMC. The Gris was on the dead man. The second bag of black powder is a greater concern, a huge concern actually. The powder is a combination of gunpowder, ashes, and cayenne pepper. The voodoos call it war powder. They use it to declare war on people or places or families. It’s clear to me that a Voodooist has declared war on Crescent City Medical Center. I'll keep you posted." He looked at the stunned group, his face in a smirk. "So… still feeling comfortable with this crime?" Then he turned and abruptly left, slamming the door behind him.
Don Montgomery also left the room abruptly and was followed by several physicians and nurses. Only Alex, Elizabeth, John, and Monique remained.
Alex spoke first, "I can hardly believe this. It seems as if someone is working hard to hurt us. Why? John, is there anything coming out of the physician group that could account for this?"
"I doubt it. I know some of them are admitting patients elsewhere and have expressed concern, but none of them could be responsible."
"Monique, you think it could be the work of an angry patient? Maybe somebody pissed at us for some obscure reason? I'm looking for anything that could help us understand."
"Don't know, Alex. It's possible. Many mentally ill patients are very bright and manipulative and carry grudges as well. Of course, so are other patients. I'll talk to the other psychiatrists and our patient relations people tomorrow, but I don't recall anything from our team meetings that would suggest this. I try to stay in the loop with these kinds of things."
Elizabeth asked, "Do you think that the journalist knew voodoo was involved with the ED shootout? How could he? We just found out. Whole thing's crazy, ludicrous, screwed up. The public seems to know more than we do and I don’t see how that could happen."
Alex replied, "I know, and that bothers me. It looks suspicious but it's a logical assumption to make based on what happened to Mrs. Raccine. It doesn't mean he knew anything."
Elizabeth pondered Alex's response. "Well, I do agree it's logical, but that seems too pat, too convenient. I've got really bad vibes about this. It’s almost as if someone on the inside is giving them information. Who would do that?"
"We all have bad vibes but I don’t know of anyone in my area that would be a spy or mole. It is something to consider though," Dr. Desmonde responded as she stood to leave. "It's late. I'm making final rounds and heading home. See you all tomorrow."
"I'm leaving, too. I'll be in early to see patients. That is if we have any left tomorrow," Dr. Ashley said morosely as he stood to leave. He nodded to Elizabeth and Alex.
Elizabeth turned to Alex. "Do you think someone inside the hospital could be feeding information to the media?”
Alex shrugged and answered, “You know, it’s certainly possible but I don’t know how to start to search them out. It makes me sick to think this.”
Elizabeth nodded in agreement and said, “I meet with the press again at eight in the morning. Can you go? That way we can field questions, look for suspicious journalists, and also see who is attending from the medical center. Maybe I’m paranoid but….all of this is just too well packaged for me.” Elizabeth looked sheepish.
Alex was thoughtful. "Good idea. I'll see you at seven-thirty and we'll talk about it. Let me call the operating room before we leave."
Alex's face was grim when she returned from making the call.
Elizabeth had already compiled a list of potential questions from the press. She handed a photocopy to Alex. "Take this with you for reading material tonight. Mull it over in your dreams. Feel free to add or delete. What about Diane?"
Alex shook her head and said, "It’s really bad. They're still operating. The charge nurse said it's a nightmare up there. Diane's vital signs are erratic, and they've had to stop surgery twice to stabilize her. She’s just so fragile and unstable. Dr. Bonnet's dead on his feet but refuses to stop. It’ll probably take a couple more hours."
"Think she'll make it, Al?"
"I don't know. She's been in surgery for hours. I know Robert's doing his best. If she makes it through the surgery, a lot will depend on the next few days. Its touch and go, I'd say. I’m hopeful but not optimistic,” Alex said shaking her head.
<
br /> "It's so unfair. None of this should have happened. I don't understand. I think I'm going to cry." Elizabeth reached for a tissue.
"Let's go, Liz. We can’t cry yet. We've got a lot more to go through before this is over. It's pretty clear that most of the decision-making is up to us. Want to share a cab ride with me and Martin?"
"Sure, sounds good, but let’s get through this final press conference first.”
Chapter 10
At five o'clock the next morning, Alex was abruptly awakened by someone pounding on her door. Grabbing her robe, she opened her door to a disheveled and tired-looking Robert.
She concealed her surprise at his presence and said, "Robert, how are you? How's Diane?" Alex was genuinely glad to see him even though he was grey with fatigue and worry.
"She made it through the surgery, but it was rough. We about lost her three times. Still very unstable. To tell you the truth, I don't think she's going to make it. If she does, it’ll be a miracle," Robert sighed. “Her injuries were just too comprehensive, too vast, and widespread.”
Alex put her hand on his shoulder, and then gave him a hug to comfort him. It just seemed like the natural thing to do.
He took a long breath and continued, "She's in the ICU - unconscious and on a vent. I can't begin to imagine her pain. She was really shot up, full of bullet injuries. Her internal injuries and bleeding were massive. I did a liver resection. She also has a compound fracture of her right arm, and I suspect she'll have permanent nerve damage if she recovers."
Alex was searching for the best words. "Well, you never know. Diane is young and strong, and she is motivated, so maybe she'll make it. We both know many people we write off live and do great. How's Mrs. Raccine?" Alex touched Robert's cheek, to offer comfort.
"The same. No different. Don't know about her, either. She should be alert by now." He paused and continued on a brighter note. "Think I'll apply for a job as golf pro at the Club. Couldn't be more stressful than the medical center these last few days."
Alex smiled and nodded. “A golf pro, huh. I think you may be better suited as a chef! Hard to believe it's only been three days since this started. It seems like an eternity. Come into the kitchen, I'll make some coffee. Grab the paper on your way in." Alex nodded towards the newspaper in her courtyard.