Echo burning. A Jack Reacher Novel. Lee Child

“O.K.,” she said. “So let’s see.”

The first report was about Ellie’s birth. The whole thing was timed in hours and minutes. There was a lot of gynecological stuff about dilation and contractions. Fetal monitors had been attached. An epidural anesthetic had been administered at thirteen minutes past four in the morning. It had been judged fully effective by four-twenty. There had been a delivery-room shift change at six. Labor had continued until the following lunchtime. Accelerants had been used. An episiotomy had been performed at one o’clock. Ellie had been born at twenty-five minutes past. No complications. Normal delivery of the placenta. The episiotomy had been stitched immediately. The baby was pronounced viable in every respect.

There was no mention of facial bruising, or a split lip, or loosened teeth.

The second report concerned two cracked ribs. It was dated in the spring, fifteen months after childbirth. There was an X-ray film attached. It showed the whole left side of her upper torso. The ribs were bright white. Two of them had tiny gray cracks. Her left breast was a neat dark shape. The attending physician had noted that the patient reported being thrown from a horse and landing hard against the top rail of a section of ranch fencing. As was usual with rib injuries, there was nothing much to be done except bind them tight and recommend plenty of physical rest.

“What do you think?” Alice asked.

“Could be something,” Reacher said.

The third report was dated six months later, at the end of the summer. It concerned severe bruising to Carmen’s lower right leg. The same physician

noted she reported falling from a horse while jumping and landing with her shin against the pole that constituted the obstacle the horse was attempting. There was a long technical description of the contusion, with measurements vertically and laterally. The affected area was a tilted oval, four inches wide and five long. X rays had been taken. The bone was not fractured. Painkillers had been prescribed and the first day’s supply provided from the emergency room pharmacy.

The fourth report was dated two and a half years later, which was maybe nine months before Sloop went to prison. It showed a broken collarbone on the right side. All the names in the file were new. It seemed like the whole ER staff had turned over. There was a new name for the attending physician, and she made no comment about Carmen’s claim to have fallen off her horse onto the rocks of the mesa. There were extensive detailed notes about the injury. They were very thorough. There was an X-ray film. It showed the curve of her neck and her shoulder. The collarbone was cleanly snapped in the middle.

Alice squared all four reports together, upside down on the desk.

“Well?” she said.

Reacher made no reply. Just shook his head.

“Well?” she said again.

“Maybe she sometimes went to another hospital,” he said.

“No, we’d have picked it up. I told you, we ask at all of them. Matter of routine.”

“Maybe they drove out of state.”

“We checked,” she said. “Domestic violence, we cover all neighboring states. I told you that, too. Routine guidelines.”

“Maybe she used another name.”

“They’re logged by Social Security number.”

He nodded. “This isn’t enough, Alice. She told me about more than this. We’ve got the ribs and we’ve got the collarbone, but she claimed he broke her arm, too. Also her jaw. She said she’d had three teeth reimplanted.”

Alice said nothing. He closed his eyes. Tried to think about it like he would have in the old days, an experienced investigator with a suspicious mind and thirteen years of hard time behind him.

“Two possibilities,” he said. “One, the hospital records system screwed up.”

Alice shook her head. “Very unlikely.”

He nodded again. “Agreed. So two, she was lying.”

Alice was quiet for a long moment.

“Exaggerating, maybe,” she said. “You know, to lock you in. To make sure of your help.”

He nodded again, vaguely. Checked his watch. It was twenty past nine. He leaned sideways and slipped the stacked reports back into the FedEx packet. “Let’s go see what Hack thinks,” he said.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *