Authors: Carrie Bedford
Tags: #female sleuths, #paranormal suspense, #supernatural mystery, #British detectives, #traditional detective mysteries, #psychic suspense, #Cozy Mystery, #crime thriller
He took my hand, leading me to the kitchen. “We should let the police know about this.”
“The message says not to,” I said. “But I know we can’t handle this without them. I’ll call Parry.”
When he didn’t answer, I left a voicemail for him.
Josh put the piece of paper down on the counter. “Do you know what it is they’re looking for?”
I thought back to the records I’d looked at with Anita that afternoon. “Patient files, I think, but they’re on the hospital computer system. There’s no way to access them from here.”
“Let’s go, then.”
Before we left, Josh went to my desk in the spare bedroom and found a USB flash drive.
At the hospital, lights shone in some of the windows, but many were dark. The lobby was almost empty, the silence broken only by the squeak of a wheel as a tired-looking woman pushed a man in a wheelchair towards the cafeteria.
Fortunately, Pauline was sitting at the nurses’ station when we got there. The lights were turned down and she was filling out a form by the glow of a small lamp on the desk.
“What are you two doing back?” she asked, jumping to her feet. “Have you found Anita?”
We’d agreed on the taxi ride that we’d tell Pauline what was going on. We needed all the help we could get. I quickly explained the kidnapper’s note and the urgency to find the patient files.
Pauline’s fair skin turned a shade whiter. “Anita’s been kidnapped?” She slumped back into her chair. “Which patient information do you need?”
“I only remember one name for sure. Isaac Kaminski. There was another one, which I think was Jacob? No, it was a surname. Jacobs.”
Pauline tapped on the keyboard of the computer on the desk. “Let me see what I can do.”
She looked up when a young nurse walked towards the desk and sat down in a chair next to Pauline. “What a night,” she said. “I’m run off my feet.”
“Why don’t you go to the kitchen? Grab a drink and a snack?” Pauline said to her. “I’ll cover you for a few minutes.”
The nurse shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ll just sit here for a bit.”
We stood, looking at each other, not sure what to do. “Well, as you’re free,” said Pauline, “Please accompany these visitors to the waiting room.”
Sighing, the younger nurse got to her feet. “Follow me,” she said. She left us in the small waiting room with the yellow walls and boxes of kids’ toys. We waited until she’d been gone for two minutes and then tiptoed back up the hallway until we could see the nurse’s station. Pauline was alone and typing. She waved us over when she saw us.
“Do you have a flash drive? I’ll copy the files for you.”
We all watched while the files were copied to the drive, the progress bar moving painfully slowly.
“And you don’t know the name of the third patient?” Pauline asked.
“I know it began with a B. Something short. I wasn’t really paying attention to the names.”
Pauline did an alphabetical search and started reading out names beginning with B. “That’s it,” I said, when she read out Boyd, Danny.
“I’ll just add this to the flash drive,” she said.
“Can I ask what’s going on here?”
We turned to see a doctor in a white coat watching us. He was short, barely as tall as me. The overhead light reflected on his eyeglasses so I couldn’t make out his expression.
“Good evening, Dr. Schwartz,” said Pauline, her tone unflustered. “These are friends of Anita’s. She asked them for copies of a couple of patient records so she could review them before her appointments tomorrow.”
“I believe you know that’s against the rules,” he said. “You can’t give medical information to unauthorized members of the public. If Dr. Banerjee wants to study patient records, then she can come in here to do it.”
“She’s not feeling too good,” I said. “Not well enough to travel anyway.”
“Then I suggest she gets a good night’s sleep and also that she only comes in tomorrow if she’s completely free of symptoms. We can’t have sick doctors seeing patients.”
“We were just trying to help,” I said. “We’d give her the drive. We’d never read anything on it.”
“It’s out of the question,” he said, turning those gleaming eyeglasses on Pauline. “And you, nurse, will be reprimanded for making unapproved copies.”
“Please, it’s not Pauline’s fault,” I said.
“I’d like you to leave now,” he said, swinging his head back to me. “Nurse, you will come with me to my office while I write up a formal complaint against you.”
Pauline’s mouth was set firm. She looked angry, but she said nothing. I was veering between frustration and despair. Could we tell Dr. Schwartz why we really wanted the files, throw ourselves on his mercy and beg for his help? It seemed to be the only solution. But he was glaring at me with such intensity that I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. “I will call security if you don’t leave,” he said.
Resisting the urge to grab the flash drive and make a run for it, I grasped Josh’s arm and we hurried away towards the lift. When the doors closed behind us, I beat against them with my fist. “Damn, damn.”
“Good to see that you’re staying cool and collected,” said Josh, leaning forward to take my hands and shake them. “You always do that when you’re stressed,” he said.
“What?”
“Clench your hands together until your knuckles go white. It’s not good for you.”
I looked at my hands and then at Josh. “What do we do now?”
“We get a cup of coffee and think about it for a few minutes.”
We headed to the cafeteria, which was surprisingly busy considering the late hour. Illness and injury don’t stick to timetables. Soon we were seated in the cafeteria with cups of coffee. I felt as tense as an over-wound clock, ready to fall apart at any moment.
Josh rubbed at damp spot on the table with a paper napkin. “Perhaps we should go back up and explain everything to that doctor,” he said. “Maybe he’d help us. I mean, he’s a colleague of Anita’s and won’t want any harm to come to her. What do you think?”
I considered that for a moment. “I don’t know. He was obnoxious, the way he was ranting at Pauline. Classic Napoleon complex. Little bully.”
“That theory’s been disproven actually,” said Josh, stirring creamer into his coffee. “Short people are no more aggressive than tall people. And it’s said that Bonaparte was actually of perfectly normal height for that time period. The British government just made up stories about his small stature to diminish his image in the eyes of the public.”
A smile formed on my lips in spite of myself. “You’re a veritable encyclopedia.”
Josh gave me a sheepish grin. “A mine of useless information.” His expression changed. “So what do you think? Do we go back up and talk to him?”
Suddenly, I remembered something. Anita had said that Schwartz was the senior doctor on at least two of the cases we’d looked at that afternoon. That meant it was possible he was involved in some way. I explained it to Josh, who looked confused. “If he’s involved, why’s he asking you to bring the files when he has direct access to them? It makes no sense.”
I drummed my fingers on the edge of the table. “I don’t trust him. We should try to do this without him.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “I have a number for the nurses’ station. We can call Pauline and have her bring the drive down here to us.”
“Worth a try.”
I called the number but got no answer and tried again. The second time, a male voice answered. “Dr. Schwartz speaking.”
Damn.
I hung up quickly. “We’ll just wait for a few minutes and try again,” I said. “Maybe Napoleon will go away and Pauline will answer next time.”
Josh took a sip of his coffee, glancing at a television that hung from the ceiling in a corner of the cafeteria. “Simon Scott,” he said. “The election is only a week away.”
“There’s nothing we can do about him,” I said. “We have to focus on Anita.”
“Of course,” Josh replied. “It’s just weird that I’d forgotten all about him. I assume his aura is still there?”
I twisted in my seat to look at the television. Scott was standing at a podium as a camera zoomed in for a close-up. “I can’t tell.” I’d never been able to see auras on television or in photos.
For a few moments, I thought about Scott, and about Chris. What a mess that was. I liked Chris, and I felt badly about reporting him to Detective Clarke. At the same time, I hoped that Clarke would find him before he had a chance to do anything stupid.
“It’s too bad because I’d planned on voting for Scott,” Josh said. “Maybe I should give my vote to that Independent, what’s his name?”
I let him ramble on about politics for a few minutes. I knew he was giving me time to calm down, which I did gradually. My hands stopped shaking and my brain settled down to where I could think in a more orderly manner. Just as I was about to try calling the nurses’ station again, my phone buzzed and a text appeared from a blocked number. It gave an address and a time, midnight. The witching hour. That was creepy. I pulled up my maps app and keyed in the address. It was for a building on the outskirts of Slough, a town about twenty miles west of London. So now we had a place to go but no files to take with us.
“Oh God,” I said, momentarily overcome with anxiety for Anita.
“It’s all right, sweetheart.” Josh reached out and touched my cheek. “She’s going to be okay, I promise.”
I took a moment to pull myself together. “It seems to me that we have to risk a smash and grab,” I said.
“Great, I’m ready for some action.” Josh drained his coffee. “We need a decoy. I have an idea.”
By the time we reached the fourth floor again, we had a plan. There was no sign of Pauline, but Dr. Schwartz was standing at the nurses’ station looking at a computer screen. He didn’t look up when the lift door pinged shut behind us. We darted along the corridor into the men’s washroom. I pulled the door closed and locked it. Josh splashed water on his face and slicked back his hair. We were hoping the moisture would look like pain-induced sweat. Putting down the toilet lid, he sat on it, head in hands. “I’m ready,” he said.
I nodded, pushed the door open and ran up the corridor to where Dr. Schwartz was standing. “Help!” I called. “Please help. My friend is very ill.”
He looked up. “You,” he said. “I thought you’d left.”
“No, my friend wasn’t feeling well and needed to use the lavatory. But he’s getting worse. I think it’s his heart.”
Schwartz pushed past me and hurried along the corridor. I knew it was a matter of minutes before he realized Josh was faking his illness. There was no sign of Pauline. I stepped over to the desk to look around, but couldn’t see the drive. I opened a drawer to see if she’d put it away. There was nothing. Perhaps Schwartz had confiscated it. A shadow fell over the desk and I looked up in fear of seeing the doctor again. It was Pauline.
“He took the drive,” she said. “But we can make another one.”
She opened another drawer and pulled out a bright blue flash drive. “One of the drug salespeople was giving these out,” she said. “Keep an eye open.”
She plugged it in and went through the same process as before. The copying process seemed to take forever. My heart was pounding in case Schwartz came back.
“Done,” she said, giving me the drive, which I slipped into my jeans pocket.
“Thank you.”
I ran back down the corridor. Schwartz was holding a stethoscope to Josh’s chest when I pushed the door open.
After a minute or so, the doctor straightened up, frowning. “Your pulse is a little high,” he said to Josh. “But your heart sounds fine. Can you tell me again where the pain is?”
Josh glanced past Schwartz to me. I nodded and patted my pocket to confirm I had the files. “Actually,” Josh said, “The pain is easing. Perhaps it was just indigestion because I ate dinner too fast. I think I’ll be fine.”
“Stand up and let me know how you feel,” the doctor instructed. Josh stood, stretched his arms out and nodded.
“Yes, much better. I’m sorry to take up your time.”
“I’d like you to go down to Emergency and get checked out,” said Schwartz. “They can run an EKG just to be sure. Here.” He pulled out a pad of paper and a pen and scrawled something on it. “Better yet, let me take you down. Sit there until I can get a wheelchair.”
“It’s really all right,” Josh protested. “We can find our way there.”
“Yes you could, but if you pass out on the way, I’ll be responsible.” Schwartz pressed some buttons on his pager.
We were silent under the bright overhead light, which gave off an irritating buzz. I didn’t know if Dr. Schwartz was really being solicitous or if he suspected we were up to no good. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly eleven o clock. Time wasn’t on our side. I pushed the door open when I heard the susurration of wheels on the hallway floor. A young nurse backed in the wheelchair and helped Josh into it.
“Where does he need to go, doctor?” she asked. “I can take him.”
“That’s okay. I’m about to go on break, so I can escort our patient to Emergency on my way to the cafeteria,” replied Schwartz, releasing the brakes. “What’s your name?” he asked me.
“Kate,” I said, deciding that the less I said the better.
He nodded. “Off we go then.”
We rode the lift down in silence. My heart was flinging itself at my ribs so hard that everything in my chest hurt.
I was grateful when the lift came to a halt and the doors slid open. Schwartz pushed the wheelchair into the Emergency department, bypassing the registration desk. He helped Josh on to a bed in a curtained cubicle, where another doctor joined us. While they talked quietly, I stood next to Josh, holding his hand tightly. Finally, Schwartz finished talking and nodded to us in farewell. “You’ll be in good hands here,” he said.
Relief flooded through me when I watched him walk away, but we still had to get away from the ER doctor. A nurse wheeled in a portable EKG machine and started to set it up. The doctor watched for a few seconds, then muttered something about coming back later and disappeared through the curtain.
“Take off your shirt and lie down,” the nurse said. “I’ll be back in a second.” We really didn’t have time for this. The minute she’d gone, Josh got up from the bed, and we slipped out of the cubicle, pausing for a moment, unsure which way to go. Seeing an Exit sign, I pulled Josh in that direction. Dr. Schwartz was in the corridor talking to another doctor. There was nothing for it but to keep going. We walked as fast as we could without breaking into a run, past the conversing doctors and into the ER registration area. I heard a voice behind us.