“Good. I was thinking about your problem, and then it hit me. I had a social worker come visit me today. She was really nice, but wasn’t sure if she was in the right room and she even got my condition wrong. Personally I think people should take a bit more responsibility for their work.”
“Yeah, but I think I see where you’re going with this.”
“Be a social worker, nobody will pay you any mind. If they do complain, it’ll be about the social worker. And nobody will take that seriously.”
“They won’t look into it?”
“Nah, everyone’s too busy.”
“What if a nurse sees me?”
“You’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It might just work.”
“Now I do enjoy the pleasure of your company, but you’ve got work to do,” Dean said with a smile.
“Sure thing boss,” Elizabeth said looking around the room before she left. She spotted a clipboard hanging off the end of the bed. She checked it to make sure it wasn’t being used then tossed it in her bag.
“Need my prop,” she said.
“You’ll fit right in,” Dean said.
“The way you just described the social workers to me, I’m not so sure that’s a good thing,” Elizabeth said as she left the room. All she could hear in reply was Dean’s laughter.
She decided to be methodical and work her way through the ward. She would only need to be in each room briefly, and working through the rooms would help make her excuse seem more legitimate. She walked up to the first room that she hadn’t yet visited, paused and then knocked once. She didn’t wait for a reply and headed straight inside.
A bald man in his twenties was in the room, sitting upright in bed and reading a novel. He looked up at her but didn’t say anything. Elizabeth pulled out the clipboard and looked at it for inspiration.
“So I’m looking for one of Robin’s patients,” Elizabeth said, watching the young man’s reaction.
“Yes?” the man said, not giving much away. Elizabeth wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Let’s see here, where’s the name?” Elizabeth said, flipping through the blank pages of paper attached to the clipboard.
“Are you a social worker? I didn’t ask for one,” the man said, his impatience coming through.
“Why yes I am. Well, clearly it’s not you I’m after. Sorry for the trouble,” Elizabeth said, not having to fake the awkwardness. She stuffed the clipboard back into her bag. As she left the room, she felt annoyed at yourself.
“Just pull it together. That’s not the person, you’ll get that reaction a lot,” Elizabeth told herself. She just had to treat the patients like potentially hostile sources. It just felt different in the hospital. Like she shouldn’t be there, bothering these people.
“Businesslike and fast is the key, and I can get this over with and not disturb them,” she thought as she approached the next door.
She repeated the same routine over and over. Making sure she said that she was looking for one of Robin’s patients. Each time she held her breath as she delivered the message, scrutinising their face for a look of recognition. But none of them reacted. Before she left she made sure that they understood she was a social worker.
The tension in her chest rose after each failure, as the stakes were raised and the chance that she found who she was looking for increased. Finally she was up to the last door. She was almost done. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for anything.
9
Lines of Communication
Elizabeth opened the door without knocking, and surveyed the room. Inside was a young woman with long blonde hair, asleep. Elizabeth didn’t know what to think.
“This could be it, I can’t dismiss her without talking to her,” Elizabeth said to herself. But she didn’t want to wake the woman. She took a step closer, then stopped. She would have to come back. Elizabeth turned, then heard a voice call out.
“Hey,” the woman said. Elizabeth faced her.
“Hello, did I wake you?”
“No, I was half awake.”
“Sorry anyway. I’m looking for one of Robin’s patients.”
“Who is Robin?”
“Oh, well I must be in the wrong place, let me check my paperwork,” Elizabeth said, flicking through the empty pages on the clipboard.
“Are you Susan?” Elizabeth said, making up the name.
“Yes,” the woman said. Elizabeth cursed herself for picking that name.
“Susan Ambrose?”
“Oh no, I’m Susan Montgomery.”
“Oh my mistake. They give us social workers the worst information! Please take care,” Elizabeth said, stuffing the clipboard back into her bag and getting out of the room before the woman could reply. She turned and looked for the best way out.
“Can I help you?” an annoyed female voice said behind her. Elizabeth spun to face the voice. It was a squat nurse with short brown hair, one that Elizabeth didn’t recognise.
“Oh no, I’m just on my way out,” Elizabeth said.
“What were you doing in there?” the nurse said, looking suspicious. Elizabeth had to think quickly.
“Oh well you got me. My friend wanted another pillow, so I ducked in to see if I could find one.”
“Really? You should just ask a nurse. There’s a linen rack down the hall. Follow me,” the nurse said. Elizabeth followed quickly. She just had to see this through and she was done.
“Here,” the nurse said, pointing at a metal rack on wheels. The top shelf had various blankets and sheets, the bottom shelf was all pillows. Elizabeth looked through the pillows then selected one.
“Up for the pillowcases,” the nurse said. She was still annoyed, but Elizabeth ignored the tone. She took a pillowcase and fumbled the pillow into it. She was surprised that the nurse was still with her, watching and waiting.
“Let’s go, take me to the room,” the nurse said.
“Sure,” Elizabeth said, heading straight for Dean’s room.
“He better be switched on,” Elizabeth thought to herself. She reached Dean’s door and reached out to open it when the nurse stepped in front of her.
“One moment please,” she said, opening the door herself.
“Excuse me sir,” the nurse said. Dean looked up at her.
“Yes?”
“Did you send for a pillow?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Dean replied.
“So you definitely didn’t request a woman to get a pillow for you?” the nurse said, her voice rising with a feeling of triumph. Dean quickly started to put things together.
“Oh yeah, I sent Elizabeth out to get one. You confused me, I didn’t send for a nurse. I’m just an old bloke.”
“Of course sir, please in the future call us or get your friends to ask us when you need something.”
“No problem, now I know. Can I ask your name? I don’t think we’ve met?”
“We haven’t. I’m Annabelle.”
“Lovely to meet you today Annabelle,” Dean said, giving his best smile. Annabelle did not react, and promptly left the room. She stopped in front of Elizabeth.
“I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, but if I see you entering that room again you’ll be thrown out of this hospital. You must respect the privacy of patients,” Annabelle said.
“Absolutely, sorry for any trouble I’ve caused,” Elizabeth said. She watched Annabelle stalk off and then entered Dean’s room.
“Here’s your pillow,” Elizabeth said.
“I didn’t even know I needed it,” Dean said with a laugh.
“You almost stitched me up there.”
“Like I said I’m an old bloke, you gotta cut me some slack!”
“Yeah. I must say though, she was very suspicious and went to great lengths to lecture me and warn me off going into that room.”
“That’s interesting, you may be on to something there. I’ve never seen her before, and I’ve been here a while. It makes you think does
n’t it?”
“Another thing to look into. Speaking of which, I’ve now visited all the rooms on this ward. I’m convinced that whoever left me the message isn’t here,” Elizabeth said.
“Hang on, so you got a message to look for Robin’s patients, but none of the patients here sent it. Does she tend to other wards?”
“I don’t remember her saying that, I’ll look into it.”
“You know, that message might have been more specific than you realised. You were just looking in the wrong place.”
“Maybe. I had a hunch that who we were after would not be in plain sight. But I ignored it until I had exhausted all the options. But there’s one thing that’s confusing.”
“What’s that?”
“I found the newspaper with the message in this ward. If one of Robin’s patients left me the message, then how did it get here if the patient isn’t here?”
“That’s an easy one. Robin brought it,” Dean said. Elizabeth stared at him in amazement. It was so simple, but put everything in a new light.
“Of course. The patient is somewhere else, and has used Robin to get the newspaper message to me. Robin really is the key.”
“You going to follow her?”
“Not sure yet, I need to think it over. I got away with today’s activities, but I want to be a bit more cautious with this next step.”
“I’ll have a think too, see what spy stuff I can dream up.”
“Great! Hey how are you going anyway?”
“I’m alright, but it’s hard. I have some time, but I can’t do much with it. I think I’d rather have less time, and be able to do whatever I want. And then I’d drop dead with a beer in my hand and a smile on my face.”
“It doesn’t work that way does it?”
“Nope. Have you found my doctor yet?”
“No, but I will.”
“Alright well that was fun today. I expect another adventure tomorrow.”
“Sure. Bye Dean,” Elizabeth said and left. She drove back to the office and worked through a few more article edits. She was about halfway through.
“How’s my pile going? You done yet?” George said, peering over her shoulder.
“Not quite. I’m probably a third of the way through.”
“A third? I expected at least a half. Well bring over the ones you have done,” he said and before Elizabeth could respond he had already started back to his desk.
“Bought myself a bit of time,” she thought to herself. Elizabeth carefully selected the right amount of papers and left them on his desk. George acknowledged her with a wave and continued what he was doing. Elizabeth stuffed everything else back into her drawers and prepared to go home.
“Any woeful attempts at jumbles to brighten my day today?” Alan said behind her.
“No, I’ll admit I haven’t tried one since. It’s all been a bit manic in here,” Elizabeth said, gesturing at the office.
“Yeah sure has. That’s why I design the jumbles at home. You need the peace and quiet to enable the proper thinking.”
“Don’t you have to be here to submit them for the next edition?”
“Yeah I pop into the office around ten each night and do the final bit here. That’s why I’m never in early in the morning.”
“Oh right.”
“Hang on, you never noticed did you?”
“Sorry Alan, I’m usually caught up in other things. Now that you mention it, you do never seem to be here in the morning. I just never processed it that way.”
“It’s fine, I was just having some fun with you. It must be jumble time!”
“Well I’m heading home myself. Good luck with the jumble tonight.”
“Thanks, have a good night,” Alan said and left. Elizabeth did one last check of her desk, picked up her bag and also left.
On the drive home she set her mind to think about how to track Robin in the hospital. The problem would be following Robin enough to see where she went, without being obvious about it. There had to be a way to know when to follow Robin.
“Hang on, the newspaper!” Elizabeth said, the idea bouncing around her head and gaining traction. If Robin was the one to bring the newspaper back from the mysterious patient, maybe she was also the one to provide it. Then Elizabeth would only need to follow Robin when she was holding a newspaper.
“It’s not foolproof, but it’s a start,” Elizabeth thought to herself. There was a certain elegance to the idea, that Robin was central to this routine and the key to finding the patient.
Elizabeth continued to tussle with the idea over dinner, this time a Pad Thai from a local Thai restaurant. It was the best she could come up with, and had a decent chance of providing the opportunity that Elizabeth needed. But there was something else about it that she couldn’t put her finger on. Something else kept nagging at her.
She lay on the couch after dinner, watching more trashy game shows. Then Word Boggler came back on. Elizabeth was about to change the channel when something on the screen caught her eye. The contestant had successfully guessed the word, and Elizabeth stared at it.
WITCHDOCTOR
“Why is that interesting?” she thought to herself. The word sat there, poking into her brain. Her subconscious or intuition had run ahead, and she was trying to catch up.
“Which Doctor,” she sounded out aloud, and let that sink in. It struck her like a bolt of lightning and she leapt up off the couch. That was it! She started pacing the room and talking to herself.
“I ask the patient which doctor is looking after them. I use the word jumble to do that. If I can track Robin when she is taking the paper I could find a location as well as hedge my bets by getting some useful information from the patient,” Elizabeth said. She paused to let the thought linger and tried attacking it from different angles.
It relied on Robin taking the newspaper to the patient, and retrieving it. But the fact that she got the initial message meant that there was some sort of routine there. The jumble would have to make sense on its own, so as not to raise suspicion. And she had to convince Alan to run an amended jumble. All those were potential problems, but not deal breakers.
Elizabeth rushed around the house, trying to find a copy of The Stately Herald.
“Why is this so difficult?” she moaned. It was unbelievable that she worked there and couldn’t find a copy of the paper. She did eventually find one in the bathroom, in the reading pile. It was from a week ago, but she didn’t need something current. She just needed the word jumble format.
It was fairly simple. She just needed to design a question and answer, and then come up with four jumbled words to supply the required letters for the answer. She worked on the question first. It had to mean something to the person she was targeting, but look legitimate to other readers of the newspaper. She racked her brains for a few minutes before writing down a sentence.
What did the confused tribesman reply when asked to point out who had treated him?
And then she wrote underneath.
WITCHDOCTOR
It wasn’t bad, and did broach the question she wanted answered. It also incorporated the answer from television that had prompted this approach. But something was missing. It didn’t quite work. She had a good think and came up with a new version.
What did the medical students ask the naked tribesman they found lying in a ditch?
And then she wrote a new answer.
WITCHDOCTOR TREATED YOU?
Elizabeth chuckled to herself. It was just bad enough to work. If the patient went to the effort of solving the jumble, then the question became more direct and obvious. Now she just had to come up with the words to match that answer.
An hour later she had the jumble plotted out.
“Alan would be proud,” she thought to herself. Which reminded her of Alan’s routine. She checked the time and saw that it was only nine o’clock. If she left immediately she should get there before Alan.
Elizabeth ran straight to the car, started the engine an
d drove to work. She used her security pass to unlock the elevator up to the fourth floor. She used her card again to get in to the Stately Herald. She headed directly to Alan’s desk, looking across the office as she went. It was relatively empty, save for the office at the back where the guys worked to prep for the printer. The door was mostly closed, but she could see the glow of light from within.
Elizabeth turned her attention to Alan’s desk. It was neat and tidy. Either she had beaten him there, or he had beaten her. She picked up the pace and headed for the back office. She heard voices within, and one of them was Alan. She quickly swung the door open and stepped in.
“Hi guys,” Elizabeth said. Alan, and a tall man stopped mid-conversation and looked at her in surprise.
“Last time you burst in here like this, we ran the mayor story,” the tall lanky man said.
“Well it’s not as exciting as that, but almost Jim.”
“What have you got for me?”
“Well, it’s more for Alan first. Alan I have a word jumble to go into tomorrow’s paper,” Elizabeth said. She watched Alan’s face carefully. His features went from surprise, to indignation, to curiosity.
“My, that’s interesting. Let me see it before you say anything else,” Alan said. Jim looked on in interest as Elizabeth handed her jumble to Alan.
“Question has potential. Word jumbling is quite rudimentary,” he said while examining the jumble. Shortly after he chuckled and handed it back.
“Decent answer, it’s not a bad little jumble overall.”
“You solved it already?”
“C’mon Elizabeth, this is what I do. I’ll run it tomorrow on two conditions. The first, you let me rearrange the word jumbles. They lack elegance. The second is you tell me why it is so important.”
“Well you may certainly rearrange as you wish, as long as the answer is unchanged.”
“Of course, it has a certain charm,” Alan said.
“And for the reason; I’ll fill you in later. It’s too risky right now.”
The Secret Patient Page 7