by Michelle Cox
Henrietta let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding and quickly kissed him. In her mind she took back all of the unkind things she had been thinking. He was wonderful after all, and she chided herself to remember that in the future.
“But darling, we must be practical,” he was cautioning now, as she pulled him across the foyer. “Even if we succeed in extracting her from the pit that is Dunning, what then? Where is she going to go from there?”
“I don’t know, Clive. We’ll have to figure that out later.” She toyed with suggesting that they bring Anna back to Highbury and care for her until a more appropriate place could be found, but she knew that now was not the time to broach that particular subject. It needed more thought, anyway. At the moment, they had to concentrate on just getting her out.
Chapter 18
When Clive and Henrietta finally reached Dunning several hours later, Elsie and Gunther were already there waiting for them. Henrietta had related to Clive on the drive down all that she knew regarding Anna’s admission to Dunning, which was admittedly sparse. He said little in reply, but he seemed, for lack of a better word, annoyed by the story and grew even more silent the closer they got to Dunning. Henrietta knew he must be fearing another attack in returning to the asylum and resolved that she would keep a close eye on him despite what she imagined would be the ensuing dramatics of finding and retrieving Anna. She wished she could have come alone—but she knew that was out of the question, knowing she had no authority to get a patient released.
As they approached the building, Clive adopted the stance of what Henrietta imagined a man going into battle might employ. Stiffly, he marched up the stairs, Henrietta hurrying to keep up. She was surprised that when they got to the top he did not hesitate, but instead gave the guard at the door a little salute with his finger.
“Think you’re funny, do you?” the guard said, opening the door for them.
Upon stepping inside, the stench of urine and decay again assaulting their senses, Henrietta reached for her handkerchief and placed it over her nose. She was about to suggest that Clive do the same, when she was distracted from her attentiveness to him by Elsie rushing up and embracing her.
“Oh, Henrietta! I’m so glad you’re here!”
Gunther, too, came up from where he had been standing, anxiously gripping his hat, and expressed his gratitude as he held out his hand to Clive, who shook it firmly. “I thank you very much,” he said. “I am sorry to cause disturbance, but I—”
“How long has she been here?” Clive interrupted. Henrietta could see his jaw clenching.
“I am not sure. Few days maybe,” Gunther replied.
Clive then strode toward the main reception desk, though no nurse seemed to be manning it at the moment. Joe the orderly could be seen, however, his feet propped on the desk at an angle from where he sat in a cane-back chair nearby. Casually, he slid his feet off the desk and stood up.
“Back again, are ya?” he asked, another toothpick (or maybe it was the same one?) dangling from his mouth. “I recognize yous two. Can’t get enough of the place, eh?”
“We’re looking for a little girl,” Clive said deliberately. “Her name is Anna Klinkhammer. She would have been brought in from Swedish Covenant Hospital in the last couple of days.”
“I think I know the one ya mean,” Joe said. “Don’t get too many kids in here. Only the ones that can’t run fast enough,” he said with a loud laugh and looked at them for a reaction. “That was a joke,” he said with an exasperated gesture. “Jeez.”
“Look, is there any way of checking?” Clive asked impatiently. “Who’s in charge here?”
“That’d be Nurse McCormick.”
“Well, can you go and fetch her?” Clive asked, irritated.
“No,” Joe said simply.
Clive stared at him grimly until Joe reluctantly went on.
“She’s tied up at the moment, you could say,” Joe said with a grin and inclining his head toward one of the hallways behind him.
“Then maybe you could look it up,” Clive suggested, pointing at the ledgers.
“Nope. Can’t read, me. Well, not very good, anyway. School was never fer me.”
Clive let out a deep breath of exasperation, turning his head away as he braced himself, his arms outstretched and leaning against the desk. Henrietta could tell he was nearing his limit already.
Joe must have observed this, too, and decided for whatever reason to have mercy. “Oh, all right,” he said. “Hold yer pants on. I can take yous to her. I know where she is. She’s on Ward 3C with the other spazzes. Cries all the time that one does.”
Henrietta heard Elsie let out a little cry of her own behind her.
“Ward 3C?” Henrietta asked incredulously. “With the schizophrenics?”
“Well, most kids get taken to the mongoloids or the waterheads, but she ain’t neither of those, so . . . Don’t ask me,” he said with a shrug.
“Well, hurry up, then, man. Be quick about it,” Clive urged.
“All right, all right,” Joe said, making a move toward the hallway that led back through the infirmary again. “Two minutes ain’t gonna matter much. Not in a place like this, anyway.”
The four of them followed Joe up the dingy back stairs and waited anxiously for him to unlock the door to Ward 3C. Henrietta looked at Clive several times as they went, trying to gauge his mental state. She linked her arm through his and took his hand, which she could feel was trembling, but he did not look at her. The sooner they could get out of here the better, she resolved, determined to find and extract Anna as quickly as they could.
As soon as they stepped onto the ward, however, Elsie surprised her by slipping in front of them all to call out, “Anna? Anna!” before any of them could say or do anything else.
“Anna?” Elsie called out again desperately as she moved toward one of the two hallways that radiated from the common area, Henrietta surprised by how different Elsie was than just the other day, when she had practically hidden behind her the whole time.
“Anna!” Gunther called as well, following Elsie. Elsie cupped her mouth as the two of them walked briskly down the hall to shout again, but before she could, a little gray ghost appeared from one of the rooms at the end, hovering there before she seemed to recognize the two people rushing toward her. Then, she broke into her own run towards Gunther, who was squatting now to receive her, and she flung herself into his arms.
“Papa!” she sobbed, burying her head in his neck as he stood up, her bare little legs wrapping around him.
“Why does she call him ‘Papa?’” Clive whispered to Henrietta, and she returned his question with a quizzical look.
Their attention was diverted from the reunion, however, by the presence of Nurse Harding, who appeared out of nowhere and was charging toward them like a mad bull.
“What’s all this?” she demanded. “Why are you here again?”
She looked down the hallway to where Gunther and Elsie stood, Gunther trying to soothe Anna. “Here for that one this time? A real brat, that one. All she does is cry, stirs up the rest of ’em.”
“Are you aware that this child is Liesel Klinkhammer’s daughter?” Henrietta asked, watching her carefully.
“Who?” the tank asked, and Henrietta could swear she was being evasive. Then, as if suddenly changing her mind, Nurse Harding responded, “Oh, the kraut? Well, whaddya know? Like mother, like daughter, I always say. Don’t surprise me one bit.”
“Don’t you think it odd that she ended up on the very same ward?” Henrietta asked.
“Not if she’s a schizo, too.”
“Listen, nurse,” Clive interrupted. “We’re here to remove this child.”
“Ha!” the tank burst out. “Fat chance of that. You ain’t takin’ her anywheres. Just who do you think you are, anyway?” She looked him over disdainfully. “You want to visit the brat, I can’t stop yeh, but removing her’s a whole different thing. And I’ve got work to do, so leave me to it
.”
Swiftly, Clive removed his fake badge from inside his jacket pocket. “As it happens, I’m an acting authority with the Winnetka police,” he said sternly. “And I strongly suggest you cooperate.”
“Where’s Winnetka?” the tank asked, unruffled. “That up north somewhere? You’ll have to do better than that, Mister . . . Smith,” she said, squinting to read the name on the badge and laughed.
“One way or another, I’m taking this child,” Clive growled. “And I could easily haul you in for obstructing justice. So you can decide now or later at the station if you want to believe I have the authority. Up to you. I’m done fooling around.”
Henrietta thought she saw a slight glimmer of, if not fear, then certainly hesitation in Nurse Harding’s eye. She was wavering.
“Look, I don’t make the rules!” the tank huffed. “You need to talk to the administrator if you want someone checked out of here.”
“Very well,” Clive said calmly, tucking the badge back into his suit coat. “Where do we find this administrator?”
“Joe’ll take you,” she said sulkily, nodding at the orderly who had been watching the exchange with decided delight. Henrietta could swear she saw something in Nurse Harding’s eyes, though, as she looked over at Joe. Was she trying to communicate something to him?
Elsie and Gunther silently approached as if they sensed they were safe. Gunther still held Anna, who was sobbing dry sobs now, Elsie following behind and petting Anna’s little hands, which were still wrapped around Gunther’s neck. Joe quickly unlocked the door and held it open, and Gunther, looking at Clive as if for direction, made a move to step through.
“Oh, no you don’t!” the tank barked. “She don’t go nowhere,” she said, nodding at Anna.
“Oh, please,” Elsie begged.
“I said no. You go get a release from the administrator and bring it back up for me to sign and then you’re free to take the brat off my hands. Good riddance, as far as I’m concerned. But I go by the book, I do. You’ll not catch me in the act of doing something I shouldn’t, though I can’t speak for others,” she said, giving Clive an accusatorily glare.
“You don’t scare me,” Clive said wryly. “I know your type.”
“You do, do you?” the tank answered belligerently.
“Clive—you and Gunther go find this administrator,” Henrietta interjected. “Elsie and I will stay here with Anna,” she said, looking over at Elsie, who quickly nodded her agreement.
Pulling his gaze from Nurse Harding, Clive sighed and said, “That would probably be best. You don’t mind?”
Henrietta shook her head. “Just try to be quick,” she said.
“Here,” Elsie said, holding out her arms to Gunther. “Give her to me.”
As if she could sense what was about to happen, or maybe because she understood the language better than any had assumed, Anna began to wail. She clung to Gunther fiercely, refusing to let go of him despite Elsie’s attempts to shush and soothe her.
“Anna, Anna,” she tried to say over Anna’s cries, but to no avail. Gunther tried to rock and soothe her, too, saying things in German into her ear. Still, her sobs and screams of “No!” continued until a few of the other patients began to shout as well, one of them screaming “Stop!” and another hitting the wall with her fist.
“Shut up!” another called.
“See what I mean?” Nurse Harding said loudly over the din. “If you’re going, go.”
Looking nervously at the tank, as if she might change her mind at any second, Gunther peeled the screeching girl off of him and handed her, kicking and screaming, snot and tears running down her face, to Elsie, who tried her best to hold onto her. Anna managed to squirm out of Elsie’s arms, however, and ran toward the door which Clive and Gunther had just hurriedly stepped through.
“Geh zurück, Anna! Bleib bei Elsie! Ich bin gleich wieder für dich da. Ich verspreche. Ich verspreche—Go back, Anna! Stay with Elsie! I will be back for you in a minute. I promise. I promise!” he shouted.
As soon as the door shut behind them, the trembling little girl stood staring at it for a moment, as if in disbelief or wretched despair, and then crumpled into a heap on the ground, sobbing anew and burying her head in her hands as she rhythmically rocked. Elsie rushed forward and knelt on the ground beside her. Gingerly, she reached out and touched her back, tentative at first, as if it might set her off again, and when it didn’t, she began to rub more.
“That’s it. Best to calm ’er down before she has another one of those fits,” Nurse Harding said calmly as she stepped over Anna’s quivering body. “Had two already since she’s been here. Three and you’re done.” “What do you mean, three and you’re done?” Henrietta asked, feeling nauseous after watching the scene that had just played out.
“Three fits and you get shocked. That usually calms ’em down for a while.”
“You’d shock a child?” Henrietta cried. “How could you? That’s cruel!”
“No, it ain’t. Anyway, how would you know, Miss Hoity-Toity? After a few weeks some of ’ems are begging us for the shock. Calms ’em, they say. I wouldn’t put it past some of ’em to fake their fits just so they can get the shock. Nurse Collins don’t agree, though.”
“Where is Nurse Collins?” Henrietta asked, looking around, puzzled. She had wondered that, actually, when they had first stepped onto the ward. Surely Nurse Collins would have taken better care of this child, wouldn’t she? Henrietta reasoned. She was so kind and compassionate, and Henrietta remembered then how even the crazy woman—Mrs. Goodman, wasn’t it?—had spoken of her as such, calling her “an angel.” Henrietta wished she could speak to her more about Liesel, but what would she ask? Nurse Collins had already seemed to give her as much information as she knew.
“She’s on nights,” the tank answered. “Works every night but Sunday night, Collins does.”
“Nights? Then why was she here the other day when we came?”
“Fillin’ in. Worked a double that day. We all work doubles from time to time. Not enough staff.”
Henrietta didn’t wonder at why they were short-staffed. Who would want to work here? she thought. And yet, with the Depression, jobs were scarce. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. She remembered Mrs. Hennessey’s niece, Ida, then, who had quit this place and wondered what it was that had spooked her. Whatever it was, it must have been serious.
Nurse Harding was walking away now, apparently bent on finishing her duties. With a backward glance at Elsie, who was still kneeling on the filthy floor beside Anna, Henrietta followed Nurse Harding.
“Excuse me, Nurse Harding?” Henrietta called after her.
“Now what?” the tank asked, turning slightly. “Can’t you see I’m busy?” In truth, Henrietta could not see what there was to occupy her time, given the floor’s current deplorable state. Clearly not a large effort had been employed so far to meet any sort of standard, much less a high one.
“Do you know an Ida Lynde?” Henrietta asked and felt sure she saw a trickle of something in the tank’s oily face. “She was a nurse who worked here a while back?”
“Yeah, I know her. Worked here a while, but she’s a drunk. That’s why she got fired. Liked her gin a little too much, if you know what I mean. Why do you ask? Actually,” she went on before Henrietta could respond, “don’t answer that. I don’t really care. Now leave me in peace.” She waddled off down the hallway.
A drunk? Henrietta thought, surprised. Wouldn’t Mrs. Hennessey have mentioned that? Well, maybe not, Henrietta thought again. Alice Hennessey wasn’t the type to air her own dirty laundry. But would Mrs. Hennessey have even brought up her niece at all if there was some scandal attached to her name? But maybe she had just blurted it out before thinking, which was the usual way of things with Mrs. Hennessey. That must be it, she decided, but she just couldn’t shake the feeling that Nurse Harding was, if not lying, then certainly not telling the whole story. But what was it that Nurse Harding had said just a few moments ago? That
she did everything by the book? Why the need to emphasize that? It did, however, put an idea in Henrietta’s mind. She glanced down the hallway again and, not able to see Nurse Harding any longer, glanced over toward the desk where the ledgers were strewn. Perhaps she should just take a look? she wondered, her pulse quickening.
Without thinking about it further, Henrietta moved quickly behind the desk and picked up various ledgers, looking for what she knew not.
“Henrietta! What are you doing?” hissed Elsie, who had succeeded in getting Anna into her arms, though she was still tightly rolled up in a ball. “This is terrible! What are we going to do?”
“I just want to take a look,” Henrietta said quietly. “I want to check something.” She tried to say it with a calm voice, but her heart was quite literally pounding. Was she jeopardizing Anna’s release if she got caught? Perhaps she could plead ignorance? she considered, though she doubted Nurse Harding would buy it. Still . . . it was too good of a chance. She picked up the only ledger that lay open, deciding that it more than likely contained the most recent events.
She studied the open page and tried to make sense of it. It seemed to be nothing more than a log of sorts with columned pages, not unlike an accounting book. There was a date at the top of each page and a list of patients, their room number, followed by what looked like a record of their medications or treatments each day. The far column was marked “activities,” but only a few of those squares were filled in. Henrietta wondered if that was because there simply weren’t any activities, or because the nurses didn’t have the time or, more than likely, the inclination, to fill that lonely column in.
With a sudden burst of inspiration, Henrietta looked to see if “electric shock therapy” or something like it, was listed as a medication or a treatment anywhere. As her eyes quickly went down the medication column, she did not see electric shock listed, but did notice “EST” was written after several patients’ names. Could that be it? she wondered excitedly. She quickly turned back the pages a couple of weeks to when Liesel would have still been alive, the pages repeatedly slipping as her fingers fumbled in her nervousness. When she finally saw “L. Klinkhammer” listed, her heart gave a little leap of triumph.