Chapter 9
James rose the next morning after a non-restful night. The three cases kept running through his mind. He even dreamt that a large syringe chased him down the hallways of the hospital trying to inject him. James rose at 4:30 AM and spent an hour in fervent prayer and meditation. He felt most comforted as he read James 1:5 “If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him.” James stayed on his knees listening to the Lord and finally broke through the barrier. God gave him the wisdom to investigate these deaths. It seemed so simple now that the plan lay revealed. Why had he not prayed earlier? Just plain pride he thought. But now he would open the offensive to find this murderer in their midst. He no longer doubted he must find the person who perpetrated these crimes.
James took his exercise, ran a quick shower, shaved, and practically bolted into town to St Francis. He reached Sister Mary Rosarita’s office at 6:30 AM and knocked. He knew she always had prayer time early in the day.
“Come in,” came the muffled reply. Sister Mary Rosarita arose from her knees on the prayer bench and made the sign of the Cross. “What brings you to my office at such an early hour Dr Phelan?”
A glance at his face told her this was a serious visit.
“Won’t you sit down, Doctor,” motioned Sister.
“Thanks Sister. I’ve come to ask your advice and help with a very difficult problem. I believe that there is a murderer loose at St Francis. Dan Fields and Bessie Flint both died under mysterious circumstances recently. Also, you know I never believed that story about Mary O’Brien,” related James.
“Yes, I know. What proof do you have right now that makes you suspicious of someone at St Francis?” asked Sister.
“Nothing solid yet. I need your permission to pore over the nursing schedules to see if there is a pattern of nurses working the nights of the deaths. I also need a listing of the rooms they stayed in to make sure there is not a specific room we have a problem with in the hospital,” began James.
“Does anyone else know about this” inquired Sister.
“No one knows about these requests. I did mention to Wil McAllister about the mysterious nature of the apparent heart attacks in both of his patients. He was not amused and told me I was overreacting. He thinks I am still brooding about Mary’s death. And he’s right. But that is not why I want to pursue this. I think someone is killing medical assistance patients. Why, I’m not sure,” said James thoughtfully.
“Very well. I have always trusted your judgment in the past. I believe as you do that the Lord has laid this on your heart. In my time with the Lord this morning He told me to expect a strange request from someone. I suppose this is it. Well, let’s get going on this doctor. I’ll pull the nursing schedules if you get medical records to pull the charts so we can review them here. They must not leave the hospital and no one else ought to be involved at this point. We may need Sheriff Edwards’ help if we get enough evidence to reopen Mary’s file and pursue the others,” replied Sister.
“Alright. I’ll be here about 5:00 PM to look over the schedules and I’ll get the charts pulled to review as well. See you at five o’clock,” said James rising from his chair.
James went upstairs to check his two postoperative patients and one postpartum patient. He made sure there were no other deaths as well. Nothing new had happened on the floor at all that night. He breathed a sigh of relief. But, then he never expected the murderer to be that ignorant. It did not fit the pattern. The murderer seemed to allow months to elapse between attacks. James could hardly wait to see those schedules. Oh well, first a busy day in the clinic.
James flew through his clinics at break neck speed and finished at 4:30 PM. He already called Abbey and told her he’d be late for dinner and not to expect him until about 7:30. Abbey would feed the children and they could eat later. James promised to pick up her favorite Chinese food on the way home at the “Yellow Dragon”. James hurried over to St Francis and Sister’s office. Sister Mary Rosarita had already organized the schedules by shifts and names alphabetically.
“I took the liberty of reviewing these nursing schedules and found an interesting overlap. Sue Wilson was the RN on the night of all the deaths,” said Sister thoughtfully.
“But, I thought Dawn Watson was the nurse on the night of Mary O’Brien’s death?” questioned James in confusion.
“Dawn was on the floor too, but Sue Watson was taking care of Mary O’Brient the night she died. I confirmed with Dawn. She said the last time they saw Mary alive was at the nursing station at about 10:30 PM for her evening vital signs. Sue did the vital signs and gave her some pain medication for uterine cramping. That’s the last time anyone saw her alive,” finished Sister.
“How come that is just coming out now?” asked James.
“No one really thought to ask who really was on that night because it was supposedly an overdose; not a homicide investigation,” said Sister grimly.
“Hmm, that really looks suspicious. But Sue really acted very disturbed about Bessie’s death when I saw her yesterday. You think it was all an act?” asked James doubtfully.
“I am not sure. Sue has had a rough time of it recently. Her mother died last year from metastatic breast cancer. Her mother suffered a long hard battle with cancer, but very bravely. Perhaps that affected her more than we know. Also, Dawn informed me that Sue talked to her about the Euthanasia Society and euthanasia recently,” shared Sister.
“Euthanasia Society and euthanasia? Maybe we have a killer in our midst after all,” mused James. “Is there any way to watch her and make sure she doesn’t work alone for awhile?”
“That would be difficult to do without raising suspicions but I’ll do my best with the schedules. Were all the patients in the same room Dr Phelan?” inquired Sister.
“Oh, I almost forgot! Let’s take a look. Dan Fields was in 104, Bessie Flint was in 105 and Mary O’Brien was in 212. So, no connection there. I wonder if they had roommates. All those are semi-private rooms. Let’s see what the admission’s sheets say,” pondered James. He ran his finger down the admissions logs and looked at the room numbers and matched the dates of the admissions. “No roommates for any of the three. That makes sense since you would want to be able to inject medicines without questions,” muttered James. “I wonder if there is someone in admissions involved in some way? What would be the drug to use that you could not trace? You’d need some cash to get the high grade cocaine for Mary’s injection,” finished James.
Both Sister and James sat in thought for a moment. Sister broke the silence. “Let us pray to the Lord for wisdom. We are obviously without an answer at this point. Lord our Father God guide us in wisdom to know that to do next and what to look for as a way to destroy these lives, Amen,” Sister finished.
Neither one could immediately come up with an answer so they collected their new information and agreed to meet the following week after more prayer and meditation. James left the office deep in thought. He needed to learn to think more like a criminal. Evil thinking came with difficulty to James. He never thought he’d have to help in a murder investigation. Especially an investigation that no one believed in at all. “Such is life,” muttered James. He tried to think about what could be the motive for Sue to murder anyone. Was the Hemlock Society part of the answer? Was Sue trying to get rid of sick, elderly people out of some misplaced concern for quality of life? Or was it simply a utilitarian attempt to eliminate nonproductive members of society.
James let his mind wander to consider other possibilities. Were the nursing schedules simply a misleading clue? Maybe Wil McAllister was involved? But why would he be involved in a murder? Both Fields and Bessie were his patients. James needed more information about Wil’s personal beliefs and some back round. Wil arrived only 2 years earlier to take over the practice of old Dr Benson who retired from his internal med
icine practice after 40 years. Wil hailed from Boston, graduated from Harvard medical school, and did his internal medicine residency at Massachusetts General Hospital. Wil seemed normal enough; but he had been defensive about the deaths of his patients. James would do some calling in the morning.
Death By Intention Page 9