is horrible. There was a time, no matter how ugly things got out on
the street, if you wore a white coat, or a steth around your neck, you
were safe. Now that’s all broken down. Sometimes it feels as if
everything’s breaking down.”
We reached the clinic. The waiting room was overflowing and as noisy
as a steam drill.
She said, “Enough whining. No one’s forcing me. What I wouldn’t mind
is some time off.”
“Why don’t you take some?”
“Got a mortgage.
Several mothers waved at her and she returned the greetings. We passed
through the door to the medical suite and headed for her office.
A nurse said, “Morning, Dr. Eves. Your dance card is full.”
Stephanie smiled gamely. Another nurse came up and handed her a stack
of charts.
She said, “Merry Christmas to you, too, Joyce,” and the nurse laughed
and hurried off “See you,” I said.
“Sure. Thanks. Oh, by the way, I learned something else about
Vicki.
A nurse I used to work with on Four told me she thought Vicki had a bad
family situation. Alcoholic husband who roughed her up quite a bit.
So maybe she’s just a bit frayed-down on men. She still bugging
you?”
“No. Actually we had a confrontation of our own and reached a truce of
sorts.”
“Good.”
“She may be down on men,” I said. “But not on Chip.”
“Chip’s no man. He’s the boss’s son.”
“Ibuche,” I said. An abusive husband might explain why I put her teeth
on edge. She could have turned to a therapist for help, gotten
nowhere, developed a resentment. . . . Of course, major family stress
could also lead her to act out in other ways-become a hero at work in
order to raise her self-esteem. How’d she handle the seizure?”
“Competently. I wouldn’t call it heroic. She calmed Cindy down, made
sure Cassie was okay, then called me. Cool under fire, everything by
the book.”
“Textbook nurse, textbook case.”
“But like you said before, how could she be involved, when all the
other crises started at home?”
“But this one didn’t. No, in all fairness, I can’t say I really
suspect her of anything. It just twangs my antennae that her home
life’s troubled and she comes over here and shines…….m probably
just focusing on her because she’s been such a pain.
“Fun referral, huh?”
“High intrigue, just like you said.”
“I always keep my promises.” Another glance at her watch. “Got to get
through my morning exams, then drive out to Century City to pick up
Torgeson. Got to make sure his car doesn’t get caught up in the
parking mess. Where’d they stick you?”
Across the street, like everyone else.”
“Sorry.”
“Hey,” I said, feigning insult, “some of us are international hotshots
and some of us park across the street.”
“Guy sounds like a cold fish over the phone,” she said, “but he is hot
stuff-served on the Nobel Committee.”
“Hoo-hah.”
“Hoo-hah in spades. let’s see if we can frustrate him too.”
I called Milo from a pay phone and left him another one-beep message:
“Vicki Bottomley has a husband who drinks and may beat her up. It
probably doesn’t mean anything, but could you please check if there are
any domestic violence calls on record and if so, get me the dates?”
Textbook nurse.
Textbook Munchausen by proxy.
Textbook crib death.
Crib death evaluated by the late Dr. Ashmore.
The doctor who didn’t see patients.
Just a grisly coincidence, no doubt. Stick around any hospital long
enough and grisly becomes routine. But, not knowing what else to do, I
decided to have a closer look at Chad Jones’s chart myself.
Medical Records was still on the basement floor. I waited in line
behind a couple of secretaries bearing requisition slips and a resident
carrying a laptop computer, only to be informed that deceased patients’
files were housed one floor down, in the sub-basement, in a place
called SPI-status permanently inactive. It sounded like something the
military had invented.
On the wall just outside the sub-basement stairwell was a map with one
of those red YOU ARE HERE arrows in the lower left-hand corner. The
rest was an aerial view of a grid of corridors. The actual hallways