Bridgetown's Eleventh Hour

by Shirley A. Roe

  “I can handle Mr. Giovanni, Sarah. By the way, how are you and my nephew getting along?” Mrs. Martin had asked Charles to inquire about Will and Sarah and he too was curious.

  “Will and I are getting along very nicely, although it is only by phone and email. We are both looking forward to his coming home.” Sarah was tempted to tell Charles about the job offer in Toronto, but didn’t want to hex her chances. She still did not know if the job was hers, besides Mr. Martin’s sister may have already told him about her interview.

  “Good, he is a nice young man and the two of you seem well suited. You could do very well for yourself in Will’s circles, Sarah.” They finished their meeting, both satisfied that everything was going according to plan, when his secretary knocked on the door.

  “Excuse me Mr. Martin, but one of the men from the hazmat team wants to see you.” Both Sarah and Charles looked at each other with concern.

  “Tell him to come in, Miss Taylor.” Sarah rose to leave, and Charles walked her to the door. “Thank you again Sarah, for the excellent manner in which you have handled this.” She exited past his secretary and into the long hallway. The foreman, dressed in coveralls and holding a clipboard, rose from his seat in the reception and approached Charles. He entered the room wearing a serious frown and Charles found his presence unnerving. He turned to his secretary, “You may go home now, Miss Johnson. See you tomorrow.”

  As the door closed, the foreman wasted no time. “Mr. Martin, I had just signed off on the site stating our findings as satisfactory.” Charles smiled widely until the man added, “However now, I am afraid we have a problem.”

  Charles sat in his huge leather chair, as the foreman’s words fell on his ears, his world starting to revolve in a surreal dance of fate. He was listening to the foreman, but with every word, he saw his career and any political aspirations, tumbling down a deep, dark well. The foreman brought his attention back to the present with his final words, “I am afraid that Martin and Schultz will have to close its doors as of tomorrow morning. This entire property will be cordoned off as unsafe and the dump site fully excavated.”

  “Closed! What are you talking about, man? We can’t just close down.” Charles’ face was growing red with rage. This could not be happening to him.

  The foreman looked at him as if he were an idiot. He repeated every word again. “As I just told you, Mr. Martin; I had sent the men home and had signed off on the site until I noticed a dark stain at the north corner, in the bottom of the pit. After digging deeper, I discovered another layer of barrels just below where we had taken the last sealed drum. We were under the impression that we had reached the bottom of the dump, but now it is obvious that there is another layer of older drums to the north and beneath where we were digging and the barrel that is visible is definitely rusted through. This is very serious, Mr. Martin.” He paused to make sure Charles was listening. Charles’ eyes were fixed on his, glaring. The foreman continued, “I am the only one here right now. But I must make a phone call immediately to my superior and inform him that the site is a definite hazard, much larger than we originally thought and the entire plant must be closed right away. Tomorrow, we will start excavating another pit directly beside the one that we just cleared.” He looked at Charles, who had begun to shake. “I am sorry Mr. Martin, but there is nothing else I can do. This is definitely going to affect the entire town.” The foreman rose and moved toward the door, his clipboard clutched firmly in his left hand.

  “Wait, did you say you are the only one here?” Charles rose from his chair, his mind was spinning uncontrollably. His eyes fixated on the clipboard. The foreman turned towards him.

  “Yes Mr. Martin. I must go and make my call now, I’m sorry.” Head down, the foreman turned toward the door. Charles advanced in one swift movement. His hand tightened on the large bronze statue on his desk and before he knew what had happened, the foreman lay at his feet, blood oozing from his head. He stood over the body, silent, a glazed look in his eyes. The statue fell from Charles’ shaking hand, his vision was blurred and his entire body shook. He fell back into the chair recently vacated by the foreman. Dear God in Heaven, what have I done?

  After what seemed like hours, he shook his head to try to clear his mind. The words kept repeating over and over in his head. What have I done? Dear God in Heaven, what have I done? He had to think. Think Charles, think. Call the police? Hide the body? Think damn it. His hands grasped his head. I will be ruined.

  In the next minute, he knew what he had to do and he sprang into action. First he opened the door to the reception area, checking to make sure no one was there. He called out, but silence was the only answer. Convinced he was alone, his body was beginning to calm. Gulping air into his lungs, the shaking was reduced to a minimum. His mind switched into survival mode and he moved quickly. He closed the door, went to his personal bathroom and took several towels from the rack. He removed his shirt and jacket. Carefully, he wrapped the foreman’s head in a towel to contain the blood and quickly cleaned the floor with more towels. He wiped the statue thoroughly and returned it to his desk. Putting his shirt back on, he left his office and locked the door.

  Moving quickly to the service elevator, Charles travelled down to the basement. His body moved robotically and his mind was focused. Soon he discovered what he was looking for. He found a cart and more clean towels and returned to his office.

  Using more towels, Charles lifted the body into the cart. He threw all the soiled towels into a green garbage bag and deposited it on top of the body. Then he went to his bathroom where he washed himself and replaced all of the missing towels with clean ones. He redressed himself, and checked the office once more. His eyes came to rest on the clipboard. He picked it up.

  His hands flipped through the pages on the clipboard until he found what he wanted, the signed release that declared the site safe and ready to restore. This paper when faxed to the Ontario Health Advisory and the Ministry of the Environment, would release him from all and any future problems. At least something had gone right for him. He tossed the clipboard into the cart.

  Calmly, he walked to the fax machine in the outer office and laid the paper on the screen. He dialed the number and sent the fax, removed the release, made a copy for his secretary and then tucked it safely in his jacket pocket. Remembering that the small lunch room created static in cell phones, he moved into the small space. Part of a sandwich lay uneaten on one of the tables. Coffee cups were stacked by the sink. Using the foreman’s cell and pretending to be the foreman, he called the supervisor and left a message that the release was signed and part of the dump site had been filled in. Encouraged by the static that buzzed from the phone that disguised his voice, he stated that he had been called away on a family emergency and would not be back to work until the following week. Next he used his own cell and phoned his wife. “Honey, I am going to be a little late. Go to the country club now and if anyone asks for me, tell them I am in the other room with some friends. Don’t let on that I am not there yet. Why? Never mind why, just do it! There will be some important politicians there tonight and the last thing I want is to be late. Understand? I will be there before the meal is served. Just make sure everyone thinks we came together.” He knew the mention of politicians would ensure her absolute co-operation and he now had an alibi.

  With a smug grin on his face, he checked his office for any blood and satisfied that it was clear; he pushed the cart into reception and locked the door. Charles moved to the service elevator, unloaded the cart through the service entrance and rolled it out to the deserted dump site. The sun was beginning to set casting an eerie glow on the parking lot, the shadow of the building, ominously encompassing Charles, the cart and the gaping hole. The sky was filled with dark storm clouds and the entire scene was surreal. As he stood looking into the hole, a shovel rested in the north corner where the foreman had unearthed the second layer of drums, the soil was black and stained. Charles looked around the lot and when he was sure it was
all clear he began. First he moved to his car, where he deposited his coat and tie as well as the bag of bloody towels. Returning, he tipped the cart and the body rolled into the hole. He immediately moved towards the bulldozer at the end of the lot. His mind buzzed. Thank heavens his father had insisted he take that job with the highway department back in college. He found the keys in the ignition and the huge machine roared to life. Charles was careful to fill only enough dirt to cover the body and the stain.

  When the crew returned the next morning, they were told the foreman had family matters to attend to and would be gone for a week. Charles’ secretary, as she had been instructed, gave the acting foreman a copy of the signed release for the Ontario Health Advisory, and the remaining hole was filled in. The paving crew would restore the parking lot and grass would be replanted over the next few days.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jack was excited about his interview. He still had not heard from Natural Gas, but he was going ahead with his attack on Martin and Schultz Chemical. The phone rang and he reached for the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Is this Mr. Giovanni?”

  “Yes, who is this?”

  “Mr. Gabon from Ontario Natural Gas, you were inquiring about a gas well drilling in your area?”

  “Yes Mr. Gabon. Thank you for getting back to me, is there a well close to Bridgetown?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is. It is about ten miles north of Bridgetown. May I ask why you are inquiring?”

  “I am concerned about fracking, Mr. Gabon. Have there been any problems with the well?” Jack waited, sure that he wouldn’t get an honest answer even if there were problems.

  “As a matter of fact, Mr. Giovanni, we are drilling right now, but I assure you there is no need for alarm. The fracking process is very safe. We are sure there is no contamination of any kind, you can quote me on that.” Jack finished the conversation and hung up. More bureaucratic bullshit! However, the comment “you can quote me on that” gave Jack an idea. He called Christine and left her a message to call Mr. Gabon and get more information on the gas well. He had to get to the studio. This fiasco was finally going to be over and the mayor and all the other politicians and bureaucrats that we involved in the cover up would be exposed. The people of Bridgetown had been kept in the dark for too long. Jack reached for his jacket and was overtaken by a deep, sharp pain in his back. He collapsed to his knees in agony.

  Bernie, who had left the house minutes earlier, realized he had forgotten his lunch. He walked through the door finding Jack writhing in pain. “Jack, what’s the matter?” Bernie helped Jack lay flat on the rug. “What is it?” Jack could barely speak.

  “My back, it’s a terrible pain Bernie. Call Dr. Phillips right away.” Bernie reached for the phone and hit the autodial. Dr. Phillip’s nurse answered on the first ring.

  “This is Bernie, Jack Giovanni’s roommate. Something has happened to Jack and we need an ambulance or I need to speak to Dr. Phillips.”

  “Bernie, I was just about to call Mr. Giovanni. The ultrasound shows a problem with his kidney, we wanted him to check himself in today. I will call an ambulance and have them there in a few minutes. Is Mr. Giovanni conscious?”

  Bernie assured the nurse that Jack was conscious and hung up the phone. “The ambulance will be here in a few minutes, Jack. Take it easy buddy.”

  Jack tried to get up, but fell back on the rug in agony. “Interview, I have to go.”

  “Just stay still. The nurse said the ultrasound showed a problem. What’s going on, Jack?”

  “Doc thought it might be Stenosis of the Renal Artery, a complication of the kidney transplant,” Jack replied sheepishly. “What about my interview?” Bernie just shook his head.

  “Just lie still, the ambulance is coming. The interview can be rescheduled. I wish you would have told me.” Bernie, irritated that Jack would not confide in him, went to pack an overnight bag for Jack.

  Jack lay on the floor trying to ignore the pain. Just when I was about to expose the truth, why did this have to happen now? The pain grew excruciating and he lost consciousness.

  When Jack came to, he was in hospital with intravenous lines attached to his arms and an oxygen mask on his face. Bernie was pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. “Bernie.”

  “Jack, my God you had me worried. Just stay still; they’re coming to get you in a few minutes for surgery.” The worry was evident on Bernie’s face. “I called Susan and she is on her way.”

  “Susan.” Again Jack lost consciousness. The nurse and the orderly arrived to take Jack to operating room. Bernie was relieved to see it was Missy.

  “What are they going to do to him? I need to know.” Normally nurses would give information only to family members, but Missy knew how close Bernie and Jack were.

  “It is called a renal angioplasty. It’s a way of relieving a blockage in the renal artery, the main blood vessel to the kidney, without having an operation. A catheter is inserted into the blockage in an artery, and a special balloon on the catheter is then inflated, to open up the blockage and allow more blood to flow through it. Kidney arteries often require the insertion of a tiny hollow tube called a stent to keep it open after the procedure.” Bernie seemed relieved to hear it was an angioplasty. He had assisted the vet in several such operations on the animals in the clinic.

  “I’ll be in the waiting room, please let me know when Jack is out of surgery, and Missy, thanks.”

  She patted Bernie’s arm affectionately and smiled. “Jack will be fine.”

  Bernie was adamant about calling Susan and she insisted on coming. While he waited for Jack, Bernie called Christine. She agreed to call the television station and let them know about Jack’s surgery and to cancel the interview. She also agreed to meet Susan’s plane at two o’clock.

  Susan rushed through customs and found herself in a crowded airport lobby. People and cases were everywhere and she had no idea who was coming to get her, then she saw the sign with her name on it. Christine stood holding the sign and moving from side to side, not knowing what Susan looked like and hoping she would see her. Susan walked over to Christine, a big smile on her face. She held out her hand. “You must be Christine; Jack talked about you so much I feel like I know you. How’s Jack?”

  “Susan, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Christine liked how Susan smiled sincerely when she talked. “Yes, Jack told us about you as well and he’ll be happy to see you. He is in surgery, but the nurse assured Bernie it was a simple procedure. We are all very upset with him for keeping this a secret. None of us knew he was suffering like he was.” Christine picked up one of Susan’s cases and started for the double doors. “When he is better, I am going to give him a piece of my mind.”

  “Whoa Tiger, I am sure we will all get our chance to yell at Jack. I just want him well and back on his feet. He was right about you; you are a force to be reckoned with. You can tell me about the articles you are writing, on the way to the hospital.” Susan was already fond of this feisty friend of Jack’s, but she was also very worried about him. The drive to the hospital was friendly and Susan liked what she saw of Bridgetown. “I can see why Jack loves this place so much; it is very comforting and homey. I like the downtown, too many towns have neglected their old downtown sections for newer malls and box stores.”

  “Bridgetown is a lovely place to live. That is why we are all so concerned about this water pollution problem and the chemical dump site. We want our town to stay lovely. Here we are.” The car pulled into the hospital parking lot. Christine turned toward Susan, “You should know that we didn’t tell Jack that we called you. Well, Bernie mentioned it but Jack passed out so we don’t think he knows.”

  The two women met Bernie in the waiting room. “No word yet, Bernie?” Christine didn’t like the look on Bernie’s face, he seemed very worried. “Sorry, Bernie this is Susan. Susan, Bernie.” The two shook hands.

  “What seems to be the problem, Bernie? Is Jack still in surgery?” Susan was growi
ng very concerned. Bernie explained that it was renal angioplasty and told the women what Missy had told him.

  “Missy said it would be a quick procedure, but Jack has been in there for hours.” Just then Dr. Phillips appeared at the end of the hall. He made his way toward the worried group.

  “Bernie, Christine, I am sure you are wondering about Jack.” The doctor looked at Susan inquisitively.

  “Dr. Phillips, this is Jack’s fiancée.” Susan gave a surprised look in Christine’s direction, but understood that she should play along. Susan shook hands with the doctor.

  “Jack’s fiancée, well then I can give you the information. I apologize to Bernie and Christine, but only family members can be told of a patient’s condition. A fiancée would qualify as family, and it is nice to meet you, Susan.”

  “How is Jack, Doctor?” She focused her attention solely on Dr. Phillips face.

  “He is in recovery. We did the angioplasty, but there were complications on the operating table. We actually lost Jack and had to resuscitate him.” Susan let out a loud gasp; her hand went to her mouth. Her face lost all color. The others reacted similarly. “He is fine now. Just gave us a good scare,” the doctor reassured her before giving her more details. When she seemed satisfied, he left them alone, assuring them that Susan could see Jack as soon as he was out of recovery. The three new and worried friends went to the cafeteria for coffee.

  Seated at the yellow arborite table, Susan sipped her coffee and tried to stop shaking. She spoke to Christine, more as a distraction than anything else. “You threw me when you introduced me as Jack’s fiancée, but I understand why now.”

  “Bernie told me that Missy said that staff would only give details to family members, so I thought it was the best way. The doctor knows both of us and I am sure we could have got it out of him, but this was easier.” Christine finished the last dregs of her coffee. “Are you staying in a hotel?”