TWELVE
Saturday, January 24th
Weak early-morning sunlight slanted through the mote-filled air of the courtroom and created a swath of light on the floor. Kim was standing in the beam and squinting from the glare. In front of him Judge Harlowe was presiding, in his black judicial robes. Reading glasses were perched precariously on the judge’s narrow, knifelike nose. To Kim, he appeared like an enormous black bird.
“After more than twenty years on the bench,” Judge Harlowe was saying while glaring down at Kim over the top of his spectacles, “I should not be surprised at what I see and hear. But, this is one strange story.”
“It’s because of my daughter’s condition,” Kim said. He was still attired in his long white coat over hospital scrubs, with his surgical mask still tied around his neck. But the coat was no longer crisp and clean. From having slept in it overnight in jail, it was wrinkled and soiled. Below the left pocket was a reddish-brown stain.
“Doctor, I have great sympathy for you given that your daughter is gravely ill,” Judge Harlowe said. “What I have trouble understanding is why you are not at the hospital at her side.”
“I should be,” Kim said. “But her condition is such there is nothing I can do. Besides, I had only intended to be away for an hour or so.”
“Well, I’m not here to make value judgments,” Judge Harlowe said. “What I am here for is to address your behavior in regard to trespassing, committing battery on a fast-food restaurant manager, and, perhaps most egregious of all, resisting arrest and striking a police officer. Doctor, this is unacceptable behavior no matter the circumstances.”
“But, Your Honor, I. . .” Kim began.
Judge Harlowe raised his hand to quiet Kim. “It doesn’t matter that you suspect your daughter’s illness might have originated at the Onion Ring on Prairie Highway. You of all people should know we have a Department of Health which is mandated to look into this kind of thing, and we have courts of law. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Kim said resignedly.
“I hope you seek some help, Doctor,” Judge Harlowe said. “I’m plainly mystified by your actions, knowing that you’re a renowned cardiac surgeon. In fact, you operated on my father-in-law, and he still sings your praises. At any rate, I’m releasing you on your own recognizance. You’re to return for trial four weeks hence. See the court clerk.”
Judge Harlowe struck his gavel and asked for the next case.
On his way out of the courthouse, Kim eyed a public phone. He hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to call the hospital. The evening before he’d tried to call Tracy, but he’d failed to reach her with the calls he had been allotted. Now, with a phone available, he dithered. He felt guilty about having been gone for so long, as well as embarrassed for what had happened. He was also afraid of what he might find out about Becky. He decided to go rather than call.
At a cab stand just outside the courthouse, Kim caught a cab to the Onion Ring. The deserted restaurant looked completely different in the morning prior to its opening. Kim’s aging vehicle was the only one in the parking lot and there wasn’t a soul in sight.
Climbing in his car, Kim set out for the hospital. En route he made a detour to Sherring Labs.
Inside he approached a receiving counter and rang a stainless-steel bell. A woman appeared within seconds. She was dressed in a lab coat.
Kim fished the two hamburger patties, now defrosted, out of his left pocket and handed them to the woman. “I’d like these patties tested for E. coli 0157:H7,” he said. “Also for the toxin.”
The technician eyed the discolored meat warily. “I think it might have been better if you’d refrigerated the samples,” she said. “When meat’s been at room temperature for more than a couple of hours it’s going to grow out a lot of bacteria.”
“I understand that,” Kim said. “But I don’t care about other bacteria. I only want to know if E. coli 0157:H7 is present.”