Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 07 - Vague Images (9 page)

I declined and sat nibbling at dry portions of my sandwich for a couple of minutes, trying to think of whom I could talk to without getting Morehouse or Aunt Madge to accuse me of meddling
.

Two women in surgical scrubs walked by
. “Guess you don’t believe in not speaking ill of the dead.”  The woman who said this was very tall, maybe five ten or so, and her flaming red hair was tied back with a scrunchie.

The other woman was shorter and African American, and sounded kind of grouchy
. “It’s not like I hit her over the…”

I glanced to my right to see whose presence had stopped their conversation
. Two very well dressed men had walked into the room. Both had on three-piece suits. The older of the two looked as if he was made to wear silk ties. The younger man, who was about forty, kind of looked like a kid imitating an older sibling. His vest was wrinkled, probably because he had gained a few pounds since he bought it, and his shirt looked like a cheaper brand than what the other man wore.

I looked for the two women in scrubs
. They had seated themselves on the far side of the cafeteria.

“You see, that’s the wall I meant,” better-dressed man said. He pointed to the far wall, near where the women were
. “That could be moved in a couple more feet and we’d have space for a conference room.”

People studiously ate their food as the younger man, who spoke too low for me to understand him, nodded
. They left the cafeteria without exchanging greetings with anyone.

A man two tables away said to his lunch mate, “Figures. We get a smaller cafeteria and they probably get a glass-topped conference table.”

I had finished eating and sat for a couple more minutes. People sat in two’s and three’s, but there wasn’t the kind of cross-table friendly conversation that I would expect from people who probably at least knew one anothers’ names.

Is anybody happy to work here?

“May I take your trash, Miss?”  The man was about forty and very thin. He wore a white cotton apron over white slacks and a white work shirt.

“That’s nice of you.” I rolled the remains of my sandwich in its plastic wrapper and handed it and the empty milk carton to him
. “Quiet place for a cafeteria.”

“Lately.”  He nodded as he took my trash and moved away.

I quickly stood and grabbed my crutches and hobbled after him. He was about to move a metal cart of empty trays when I came to a stop next to him. “I wondered who those two men were. The ones in the suits. Would you happen to know?”

He nodded, and looked over his shoulder as he spoke
. “The younger guy was the hospital CEO, Quentin Wharton. I think the other guy is his boss or something.”

“Thanks.”  My eyes followed the worker’s progress toward the kitchen
. I had thought it kind of odd that no one from the hospital had called to see how I was. After all, I had found a dead employee, and it was just after I’d been in the ER. When I had mentioned this to Scoobie yesterday, he just rolled his eyes and made one of his observations about the center of the universe not being wherever I was standing.

I wanted to meet the hospital chief executive
.
No time like the present
.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE HALLWAY NEAR the administrative offices was carpeted, and it was plush stuff. My crutches and I made no noise, and I felt like a kid sneaking out of the house after dark to go to the boardwalk.

I paused at the closed wooden door that led into the executive suite. It had a vertical pane of glass about four inches wide and twelve inches tall, and I looked through it
. Two women in their mid-thirties were preoccupied with their separate tasks. One was working on a desktop computer while the other was inserting folded papers into envelopes.

There was no button to open the door, so I moved my left crutch to stand with its right mate and opened the door with a whoosh. I let it swing back toward my derriere as I quickly put the left crutch under my left arm and kind of sidled into the room.

“Oh, next time do knock and one of us will open the door for you.”  The brunette who said this had perfectly made-up eyes, manicured nails, and what looked to be an expensive blouse.

“Thanks. I’m getting better about his.”  I moved closer to the two desks, which sat near each other
. “I wondered if I could talk to Mr. Wharton. My name is Jolie Gentil.”

The second woman did not look as if she had just left a make-up artist, but she had an intelligent face and a friendly smile
. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think we’ve met.”  I nodded at my crutches
. “I’ve been in the building before.”

Before either of them could say anything else, Quentin Wharton appeared at a door to my right
. “Please come in Ms. Gentil.”

“Thanks.” 

He stood to one side to let me into his office and closed the door. With him in the office was the man the cafeteria worker said was Wharton’s boss. That man was seated on a sofa and ignored me by looking at his fingernails.

“How is your foot?”  Wharton asked.

Clearly he knew who I was and had been briefed on my injury. If not he would have asked what I had done to my foot. Or been super polite and not referenced it. “It’s much better. I’m going to try to put some weight on it soon.”

“Have you met the chair of our Board of Directors?”

Perfect. Two birds with one stone. “I don’t think so.”

The impeccably dressed man stood and held out a hand
. I leaned my armpit on a crutch and held out my right hand.

“Jason Logan
. How do you do, Ms. Gentil?”

“Very well, thank you.” 
Not really. Did you hear I found a dead body in the restroom a few days ago?

I sensed I had interrupted them, and was surprised that Quentin Wharton had invited me in
. There were about five seconds of the kind of awkward pauses you read about in novels.

Logan spoke as he looked at Wharton
. “I have a late lunch appointment in Ocean Grove.”  He looked at me. “I certainly hope you heal quickly.”  He gave a wide smile, kind of like a politician who sees a camera, and walked out.

“Please, Ms. Gentil
. Have a seat.”  Wharton went to a chair behind a large maple desk and I sat opposite him and stowed my crutches on the floor next to me.

“Please call me Jolie.”

He nodded. “I was going to call you the night…that awful night, but the police asked me to wait a day. Then I simply had so much to do, what with Tanya’s death, that I didn’t make the call. I apologize.”

I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t an almost contrite CEO
. “I’m sure it was a difficult time.”

“Still is.”  He folded his hands in front of him and waited for me to speak.

“I thought I should stop by, let you know I’m okay and see if you had any questions for me.”

Wharton stared at me for several seconds. His skin was almost pallid and it looked to me as if his clasped hands were gripping each other
.
Maybe he thinks I’ll sue him or something.

“I’m sorry that you had that experience
. I understand you were on the second floor waiting for a friend.”

He knows I was waiting for someone working in Radiology, probably knows it was Scoobie
.
I nodded. “I was looking for a ride home. It’s funny, I had just seen Ms. Weiss, Tanya, downstairs a few minutes before I found her.”

Wharton’s eyes widened for a second and he unclasped his hands and reached for a pen and a memo pad
. “I didn’t realize that. You spoke to her?”

“No, I was passing at the other end of this hallway, going to the elevator
. I doubt I would have remembered her, except for her purple cape.”

He wrote down a few words and then looked back at me
. “The police are handling the investigation, of course, but our security team is working closely with them.”  Wharton hesitated for a second and then asked, “Would you be willing to talk to Todd Everly?  He’s our head of security. You may be able to tell him something he doesn’t know.”

“Sure.”  While Wharton spoke on the phone I gave myself a mental high five. Maybe I’d get a look at those security tapes Morehouse had talked about.

I HAD EXPEC
TED EVERLY to be a tall man with a weight builder’s figure and perhaps Nordic blonde hair. Instead, I met an average-size man with curly brown hair. He was probably in his early thirties. Hospital security guards wore uniforms, but Everly did not. However, his navy blue blazer, dark blue and grey striped tie, and grey slacks had a regulation-style look to them.

Everly sat in a chair next to mine and we both faced Quentin Wharton. I felt as if I was in the principal’s office.

“Todd, I thought you might want to talk to Ms. Gentil. You’ve probably recognized her name as the person who found Ms. Weiss’ body.”

Todd alternated his gaze between Wharton and me
. “You probably didn’t notice me, but I saw you sitting in the Radiology waiting area, talking to the police.”

I didn’t remember, but Todd struck me as someone who would easily blend with the paint on the walls. Probably a good talent for a security officer
. “I was more or less in shock.”

“No doubt.”  He cleared his throat
. “The police have the lead, of course, but maybe you would be willing to walk me through what you saw.”

I started to recite the evening’s events, but he interrupted me
. “I was being literal. Can you make it to the second floor?”

I agreed, and refused his offer of a wheelchair
. Wharton escorted us to the door that led to the hallway. The two women in the outer office gave Everly friendly good-byes, but they basically ignored Wharton when he turned to walk back to his desk.

“SO YOU WERE in Radiology and the vending area just before you went to the restroom.”  Everly said this as we got off the elevator at the second floor.

“Yes, and I was in a wheelchair, so it took me an extra minute or so to get to Radiology.”  I glanced sideways at Everly as we walked, him matching my crutch pace
. He was very tense, unless he usually walks around staring straight ahead, with his spine as straight as a telephone pole. He probably worked out, because his shoulders and upper arms had more bulk than I would have expected for his height. His curls were even, suggesting that he used hair spray.

The Radiology waiting area was at the intersection of two hallways, with only a breakfront separating it from the corridor Everly and I were in
. There was a check-in counter for people coming for x-rays. I nodded at the receptionist, whom I knew because of Scoobie. She didn’t smile, but did do a finger-wave before answering her ringing phone.

“How long did you remain here?” Everly asked.

I went over how I’d waited for Scoobie, and that after he told me he had to work for a while longer I’d gone to get a drink. Instead, I decided duty called. When Everly looked puzzled, I added, “Duty called, bladder mentioned it needed attention.”

He flushed and asked me to take about the same amount of time going from one place to another as I had on the day I’d found Tanya Weiss
. We’d been to the vending machines and were walking by Radiology again, en route to the restroom, when a tall man in tan scrubs walked into the hallway from a door marked private.

Though I would not have thought it possible, Everly stiffened more and said, “Afternoon Sam.”

I thought Sam was Scoobie’s boss, maybe even the head of Radiology. He ignored Everly and looked at me. “You found Tanya’s body, didn’t you?”

“Sam,” Everly appeared exasperated
. “Ms. Gentil is here at Quentin’s request.” 

“I didn’t say she shouldn’t be here.”  He faced me
. “We’ve all wondered about what happened.”  He continued talking to me but looked at Everly. “The hospital administration isn’t providing any information.”

I shifted my weight a bit. Crutches helped me balance, but they made my shoulders sore
. “I don’t think I can add to what I told the police. Pretty much all of that was in the paper.”

“So you didn’t see anyone else near the ladies’ room?”

There’s no reason to be as rude as he is.
“As I told the police, no. If you don’t mind, I don’t like to stand too much.”

Sam put his hand on door he had just come out of and turned slightly so he could push numbers on the security lock pad
. “I simply want my staff to know as much as they can. Knowledge can reduce fear.”

He walked through the door and it swung shut behind him
. I looked at Everly, whose jaw was clenched. “I suppose you could say he’s being a thoughtful manager.”

“Sam Dent is not someone I would call thoughtful,” Everly said, and began to walk again
. I kept pace. “I understand it’s disconcerting, but all the staff have been asked not to discuss the murder, unless it’s to provide information or ask questions of someone on the hospital’s security team. Loyal employees have abided by that.”

So now I know what he thinks of Sam Dent
. “Human nature, I guess.” 

We had arrived at the
restroom, and Everly knocked on the door and said, “Security. May I come in?”

There was no response, and as he began to push the door I realized that I had no desire to go into the room
. “Um, Todd. Maybe we could talk out here.”

His expression was puzzled, and then cleared
. “I’m sorry. Thoughtless of me. I’ll look inside to remind myself of the layout. Then we can go down to the vending area and sit at the tables to talk.”

I crutched back to the vending alcove and was already seated when Everly sat across from me
. He pulled out a notebook and asked me more questions than Morehouse had. Were the lights on when I went in?  I said yes, and he told me that they were the kind that went off after a period of no motion in the room. The fact that they were on said that someone had left the room within three minutes. Otherwise, the lights would have been off and come on when I entered.

“Gee, you make it sound as if I just missed the murderer.”  I gave a nervous laugh.

Everly did not smile. “That’s quite likely.”  He asked more questions—was her foot pointing to the right or left? (right), did I notice a purse? (no), were her eyes open or shut? (ugh, open).

“Didn’t you go into the room before the uh, Ms. Weiss, was, uh, taken away?” I asked.

“No. I was out of the building and returned as the staff were taking her downstairs. I’ve seen all the police photos, of course. However, nothing replaces direct observation.”

I stared at him for a couple of seconds
. My first impression of Todd Everly had been that he was kind of passive, but I had revised my view. He asked good questions. “May I ask you a favor?”

He looked wary
. “You can ask, and I’ll respond as appropriate.”

“May I see some of your security tapes?”  When he looked almost startled, I added, “I don’t know if the police have told you, but the young man in the hoodie is someone I know.”

He was taken aback, and irritated. “How do you know this?”

“It’s an odd coincidence, really.”  Without giving his name, I implied that Lucas was at the hospital to visit me in the ER and then walked up to see someone he knew on the second floor
. “When I read that the police were looking for someone in a hoodie, I suggested that my friend contact the police to see if he could be the person.”

“So, the young man was not connected with Ms. Weiss?”  Everly appeared to be holding his irritation in check
. Sort of.

“He just happened
to be on a couple of the tapes. He didn’t know her and,” I smiled, “doesn’t make a habit of wandering into women’s bathrooms.”

Everly shook his head
. “I shouldn’t have to learn this from you.”

“I’m sorry.” 
It’s not my fault if the Ocean Alley Police keep you in the dark.

“Not your problem.”  He stood
. “Our security tapes are digital. I made the police copies, but I have the original files. You’ve earned a look.”