Текст книги "Death by Request"

Автор книги: Jaden Skye

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“You talked to that woman while she was in a coma?” asked Cindy, horrified.

“No, I spoke to her while she was recovering,” Loretta said. “In fact, I even went to visit her in the new room she’s in to check on how she’s doing.”

Chills rose through Cindy’s spine. Why hadn’t anyone mentioned this other woman?

“Seems like you know a lot, Loretta,” Mattheus said slowly, impressed.

“Yes, I do,” said Loretta, “though no one believes me. They think I’m here because I want money or something.”

“Do you?” he asked.

Loretta laughed. “The last thing I need is my mother’s money. My father is richer than Owen and even though he’s sick of me now, he still gives me whatever I need.”

“So, why did you come here, really?” asked Mattheus, zeroing in.

At that Loretta’s head snapped back to attention. “I came to tell my mother what I think of her,” she said swiftly.

“What do you think of her?” asked Cindy, afraid to hear what the girl would say.

“I think my mother missed out on the best thing in her life by getting rid of me!” Loretta’s voice rose harshly, causing everyone in the room to look her way.

Jenna got up and came over quickly. “It’s okay, Loretta,” Jenna said in a soothing tone.

“What’s okay? Nothing’s okay!” Loretta started yelling louder, pulling at the pendant around her frail neck.

“Don’t do that to the pendant,” Jenna tried to stop her.

“I’ll do what I want. You can’t stop me,” Loretta fought back.

“That pendant belonged to Tara,” Jenna looked at Cindy and Mattheus for help. “I have no idea how Loretta got it.”

“I took it from the room,” said Loretta holding the pendant fiercely to her chest. “It belonged to my mother and I have a right to a dying gift. You got a problem with that?”

“I don’t have a problem with you having your mother’s necklace,” Jenna backed down, fearfully.

Thankfully, at that moment, the door to the waiting room opened again, and an official, dressed in a white uniform entered somberly.

“The cremation is over,” he announced. “Peace be with all.”

*

After the family hugged each other and said a few more words, they filed out of the waiting room quietly, leaving Loretta behind. Cindy felt concerned about her.

“What are you going to do now?” Cindy asked.

“I don’t know,” said Loretta, looking at Cindy, restless. “I want to stay around until the case is closed. Is there something I can do to help?”

“Like what?” asked Cindy, surprised.

“Maybe I can do something like you do,” Loretta seemed completely forlorn. “You can give me assignments and I’ll help you with them. I could be a great detective, too.”

“Yes, you could be a great detective,” Cindy answered, “and I wish I could give you an assignment, but I can’t. It’s complicated.”

“Everything is complicated,” Loretta wouldn’t take no for an answer. “But for a good detective complications don’t matter. They see right through bullshit, do what they have to, take action.”

“I have an assignment for you, Loretta,” Mattheus broke in. Obviously, he was taken with her, wanted to help prop her up.

“Great,” said Loretta, eager.

“First of all, find out where the woman is now who shared a room with your mother! They may have moved her. Let us know,” said Mattheus.

Loretta was excited. “Definitely, I will,” she said. “Also, I can tell you that her name was Ann. From the first minute I saw her I knew she’d be fine.”

Cindy swallowed hard at the sound of her sister’s name, suddenly missing her deeply.

“Ann was also in her forties,” Loretta filled Cindy and Mattheus in. “She was also in a bad accident, but I knew she’d wake up and be fine. I even said that to her when she was sleeping,”

“You didn’t think your mother would be fine though, did you?” Mattheus interrupted.

“No, I knew she wouldn’t,” said Loretta. “And part of me wondered if she even wanted to die.”

“You didn’t help your mother die, did you?” asked Cindy, startled. She couldn’t miss an opportunity to follow up on the comment.

“I had nothing to do with my mother’s dying,” Loretta was offended. “I didn’t think she’d wake up, but I didn’t kill her, either. There’s no reason for you to say something like that.”

Mattheus took out his card then and gave it to Loretta. “Go do the assignment I’ve given you,” he said “and contact me at this phone number.”

Loretta took the card, delighted. “I’ll be right on it,” she breathed and left.

Cindy and Mattheus stared at each other then.

“She needs something, needs someone,” Mattheus murmured. “She needs to feel she can make a difference in this world.”

Cindy was touched by Mattheus’s wisdom and caring. “You’re right, she does,” Cindy replied, “and it was good of you to give her that assignment. But what I can’t get over is why no one told us about the other woman who shared Tara’s room?”

“There’s a lot of things no one told us,” Mattheus grumbled. “So, we’ll find out where she is and go talk to her ourselves.”

“I’ll go speak to her myself,” said Cindy. “It could be too much to have both of us in her hospital room.”

“That’s a good idea,” Mattheus agreed. “In the meantime, I want to dig into the medical mistakes in this hospital, and spend more time with Konrad. There’s a jazz festival coming up I was invited to where hospital officials will be present.”

“Great,” said Cindy, grateful for the new possibilities.

“I’m glad we’ve got Loretta on our team, too,” said Mattheus. “She could find out things that would be hidden from us.”

Cindy was not sure what Mattheus was talking about. “Since when is Loretta on our team?”

“The kid’s alone, she’s got no one,” said Mattheus.

“Excuse me, she told us she had a rich father she lives with, who gives her everything,” Cindy objected, not at all sure she wanted Loretta on their team. There were too many loopholes in her story and situation.

“But her mother just died,” Mattheus wouldn’t drop it.

“A mother she never knew,” Cindy reminded him.

“All the more reason why this has to be a total nightmare for her,” Mattheus persisted.

Cindy wondered if Loretta didn’t remind Mattheus of his own long lost daughter. Was he helping Loretta as a way to be close to his own daughter as well?

“Loretta’s not on our team, Mattheus,” Cindy broke into the fantasy he was developing. “She’s a young girl whose mother just died. She’s strong, she’s interesting, but we really know nothing about her. If she wants to become a detective one day, she can go about it with her father’s support. It’s not up to us to take over her life.”

“You’re right again,” said Mattheus, suddenly sorrowful. “I just wanted to help her through.”

Chapter 16

Loretta contacted Mattheus and Cindy immediately with the number of the room where Ann was recuperating. Cindy decided to go immediately and Mattheus left to continue his research on medical mistakes at the hospital. Cindy walked down the hallway looking for the room. Fortunately, it was a private room, and when Cindy arrived, Ann was alone.

Cindy walked into the room quietly, looking at Ann who was resting in bed, her eyes half closed. Ann was a sensitive looking woman, but frail now and thin. Her taut face clearly showed the enormous strain she’d just been through.

As Cindy approached the bedside she wished her own sister Ann was alive, that she could be visiting her as well.

“Hello, Ann,” said Cindy, as she took a seat beside her bed.

Ann tossed a moment, groaned softly and slowly opened her eyes. Cindy felt badly disturbing her, but there was no other choice.

“Who are you?” asked Ann, rolling her head over and looking at Cindy. “Are you from the social work office?”

“No, I’m not,” Cindy replied. “Are you expecting someone?”

“No, not at all,” Ann propped herself up a bit, seemingly glad to have a visitor. “It’s just that all kinds of people keep coming in, checking on how I’m doing and what’s happening next.”

“How are you doing?” Cindy asked, sincerely, wanting to know.

“Much better,” Ann smiled, “I can’t believe how I’m improving day by day.”

“I’m so glad,” Cindy answered warmly, as if the two of them were old friends.

“Why are you here?” Ann woke up fully then, interested in who Cindy was.

“I’m a private detective,” said Cindy more quietly. “Have you heard about what happened to the woman you shared the room with?”

Ann’s eyes opened wider. “Yes, I heard she passed away,” she said breathlessly.

“Yes,” said Cindy, looking away a moment. She felt odd talking about death with someone who had just been in a coma herself. “I’m sorry to have to bring this up.”

“No, go right ahead,” said Ann, fascinated. “I didn’t think she would die, I thought she would make it. I thought both of us would be better one day.”

“What made you think that?” asked Cindy fascinated.

“I didn’t know her, but I liked her,” said Ann. “Laying so close to someone, sharing the same room, struggling for life, you feel a bond.”

“I can understand,” said Cindy.

“Really, can you?” Ann’s eyes lit up. “No one else seems to. I try talking about it and everyone just tells me to put it out of my mind and rest.”

“That must be frustrating,” said Cindy.

“Is it ever,” Ann propped herself up on her elbows and spoke more intensely. “I don’t want to rest, I want to talk. I’ve heard a lot of things. When you’re in a coma people say everything right in front of you and think you don’t hear. They’re so wrong. Sometimes you’re there, other times not. Sometimes you can listen to every word, other times you’re drifting away.”

“Where are you drifting, tell me?” Cindy felt her heart beating hard.

Ann looked at Cindy sadly, feeling her desperation. “It’s a beautiful place,” Ann whispered softly, “there’s no danger there at all.”

Cindy closed her eyes swiftly. Was it true what Ann was saying or was she only imagining it? Cindy could find out, she could see if what Ann told her could be corroborated.

“What did you hear when you were in the coma, Ann?” Cindy continued with bated breath.

“When I heard things I’m not sure I was in the coma,” Ann responded thoughtfully. “Sometimes you’re in, sometimes you’re out.”

“What did you hear when you were more awake?” Cindy pursued it.

“I heard the doctors around me saying that I was doing better,” Ann was reflecting. “That helped me so much. I heard my husband tell me he loved me over and over, that he was waiting for me to return.”

“Was it true that he said that? Have you asked him?” said Cindy.

“Yes,” Ann smiled, “he told me he said that to me again and again.”

That was encouraging, but not enough proof for Cindy. Ann could have expected her husband to say that, imagined she actually heard those words. Cindy needed more.

“You were laying close to Tara,” Cindy’s voice got lower. “Did you hear her husband say the same thing to her?” she asked.

Ann’s eyes closed a moment then opened. “No, I didn’t,” she replied. “I remember hoping he would, but he didn’t.”

Ann said that with such intensity that Cindy felt jarred. “Did you hear him say anything to her?”

“I actually did,” Ann spoke hesitantly. “It was strange, it bothered me, I didn’t like it.”

“What did he say?” Cindy felt alarmed.

“I kept hearing him say over and over that Tara would never be beautiful again,” Ann mouthed the words carefully.

Cindy started to shiver. She’d heard that exact report before. How else could Ann know if she hadn’t really heard?

“I wanted Owen to stop saying that,” Ann continued, gripped by the memory, “but I couldn’t speak. It was a terrible feeling.”

“Horrible,” Cindy sympathized. “Please tell me, did Owen say anything else that you remember?”

“That’s all I remember hearing from him,” Ann trembled for a moment. “When I came down here to my new room I heard that someone put something into Tara’s IV to help it be over.”

“Exactly,” said Cindy, “that’s why I’m here.”

“I also heard they’re blaming Owen,” Ann spoke very slowly, trying to put the pieces together.

“Yes, that’s so,” said Cindy. “I need to talk to you about it because you were there in the room with them.”

“Yes, I was,” said Ann promptly, “But I recovered and Tara did not. I’m so sorry.”

“That’s not the point,” Cindy reached out to her, soothingly. “Is there anything else you remember Ann? I need you to tell me.”

“Yes, I heard other things, but no one believes me,” Ann started to babble.

“Tell me, I’ll believe you,” said Cindy. “Not only will I believe you, but you may be the one able to help Tara.”

“How?” Ann looked frightened.

“You can help me get justice for her, find the real killer,” Cindy breathed.

“Oh God,” Ann exclaimed, “yes, there was a lot I heard, a lot happened.”

“What? What?” asked Cindy intensely.

“It was never peaceful on her side of the room,” Ann started, “but the night Tara died the upset was awful. I felt it and heard it. It was just before they transferred me to a different floor. I thought they transferred me because of all the commotion going on over there.

“What commotion?” Cindy was both startled and thrilled to hear this. She felt as if she’d hit a vein of gold. Ann was an incredible find. Could it be she was the perfect witness and held the key to unlocking the case? After all, she was there and awake the night Tara died.

Ann’s voice dropped lower then, as if making sure no one else could hear. “All of a sudden Tara’s part of the room got very crowded. At first I thought it was because the night nurse was off and others were coming in to take over. I wondered if it was Tara’s family, but then I realized that the day nurse, Alana, was there.”

“Alana? You’re sure it was her?” Cindy’s body grew chilled.

“Absolutely,” said Ann. “She was restless, irritated, you could feel it from a mile away. By the way, did you know that Alana was also the nurse of the other woman in the hospital who died unexpectedly a few weeks before?”

“No,” Cindy gasped, “I had no idea of that at all.”

“It’s true though,” Ann was on a roll now. “I heard my nurse speaking about it to someone yesterday.”

“Was Alana your nurse as well?” Cindy felt all a stir. Was it possible that Alana was a killer, had harmed all of her patients? Was she getting some kind of revenge?

“Alana wasn’t my nurse, just Tara’s,” Ann continued. “Anyway, that last night, Alana kept pacing around, muttering loudly. She thought she was in the room alone with Tara, but she wasn’t. I was there, I could hear her, but she had no idea.”

“Did Owen do anything about it?” Cindy was quick on the draw.

“Not that I know of,” said Ann. “I just heard Alana’s voice getting louder and louder. She was snapping at Tara, saying she was fed up. I wondered what she was fed up with, or if maybe she was drunk. Then Alana started cursing her job and telling Tara to make up her mind already, live or die. It was enough, time to make up her mind!”

“How dare she?” breathed Cindy.

“Alana’s a tough customer,” Ann continued, “I never liked her the whole time. I felt her resentment pour through the place.”

“Owen didn’t say anything?” Cindy had to be certain.

“I didn’t hear him,” Ann repeated, “but, believe it or not, I heard Tara’s voice.”

“You heard what?” Cindy couldn’t compute it.

“I heard Tara say, I want to die, I want to die, please help me,” breathed Ann.

“How is this possible?” asked Cindy.

“It’s more than possible, it’s what happened,” Ann insisted. “I remember how shocked I was to actually hear Tara’s voice. It was thin, but lovely. But I didn’t like what she was saying. It hurt me that she wanted to die.”

“My God,” Cindy breathed. “Did you tell anyone about this?”

“Of course I did,” said Ann fervently. “I told everyone – no one cared or believed me. They thought I was still foggy from the coma. My husband said I should stay out of the quagmire, that I’d been through enough.”

“Did your husband believe what you heard Tara say?” Cindy was incredulous.

“I don’t think he did,” Ann’s eyes filled with tears. “Then I told my nurse but she brushed if off. She said we think all kinds of things when we’re half awake, half dreaming.”

“Could you have been dreaming Ann?” Cindy quieted down.

“No, I wasn’t, I’m sure,” Ann looked at Cindy beseechingly. “You have to believe me, you promised you would.”

“Did you hear anything else?” Cindy didn’t want Ann to lose her faith in her. But this was a lot to believe.

“Yes,” Ann went on fervently, “I even heard Konrad come into the room to talk to Alana.”

“How do you know who Konrad is?” Cindy’s teeth suddenly started chattering.

“I know who Konrad is because Alana called him by name,” said Ann. “Alana sounded surprised to see him and said, Konrad, what in the world are you doing here?”

There was no possible way Ann could know about Konrad unless she actually heard his name, thought Cindy. Was it possible everything she said was true?

“What was Konrad doing there in the hospital room?” Cindy asked, agitated.

“Konrad said he’d just come to see Alana, that he loved her and she had to trust him. Does any of that make sense? You can check out Konrad’s schedule if you need to see where he was the night.”

It all actually made perfect sense to Cindy, but she couldn’t say that to Ann yet.

“And what about Owen?” Cindy continued, desperate to know where he fit in. If he’d been there constantly, Ann had to have heard him say something.

“I didn’t hear Owen say anything at all,” Ann repeated.

“You never spoke to the police about this, right?” Cindy just had to be certain.

“How could I? Up to now nobody paid any attention to what I said,” Ann’s face suddenly flushed. “I’m glad you’re listening, I really am. It’s a huge relief to tell you this.”

“I’ll do more than listen,” said Cindy mobilizing. “I’m going to confront both Alana and Konrad myself.”

“Do what you have to,” Ann suddenly seemed very tired then. She slumped a bit back on her cushions.

“Thank you, Ann, thank you,” Cindy stroked her shoulder gently. “You’ve helped so much, you can’t imagine.”

“I’m so glad I could,” Ann managed to say, before her eyes closed once again and she drifted back to sleep.

*

Trembling, Cindy fled from Ann’s room to the head nurse, Beatrice Flann’s, office.

“I’ve heard incredible things about Tara’s case,” Cindy dove in without any preamble the moment she entered the room and saw Beatrice standing there.

“Heard what, from who?” Beatrice was flustered by the way Cindy barged in.

“I just spoke to Ann, the patient who shared a room with Tara in the ICU,” Cindy announced, waiting to see how Beatrice would respond.

By then Beatrice’s face became immobile and expressionless. “Yes?”

“I’ve learned quite a bit about Tara’s nurse, Alana,” Cindy continued, “and everything is starting to add up.”

“Calm down,” Beatrice said flatly, trying to take the air out of Cindy’s wings.

Beatrice had no effect on Cindy, however. “I learned that Alana was also the nurse for the other woman who died unexpectedly in the hospital a short while ago,” Cindy barreled right along.

“Pure coincidence,” Beatrice spoke emphatically. “The cases have absolutely nothing in common and the police have dismissed the possibility of any connection between them.”

“Ann also said that Alana was the nurse on call in Tara’s room the night she died,” Cindy went on. “Ann said Alana was agitated, that she heard her yelling at Tara. Ann also heard Tara say she wanted to die.”

“Fantasy and nonsense,” Beatrice uttered.

“Well, we can check out and see if in fact, Alana was the nurse assigned to Tara that night,” Cindy pushed it.

“The night nurse was off that night,” Beatrice replied flatly. “The night rotation was up for grabs.”

“Was Alana the night nurse?” Cindy asked pointedly.

“This is pathetic and ridiculous,” Beatrice replied emphatically.

Cindy would not be stopped. “Ann said that Konrad then came into Tara’s room to speak with Alana and calm her down. Obviously, there’s a personal relationship between them.”

Beatrice Flann stood up, disgusted. “There’s no length you won’t go to, to dig up dirt, is there?” she said. “Excuse me, I have more important things to do than listen to the deranged fantasy of a woman who has just emerged, half sane, from a coma. Ann is not a reliable witness either medically or legally. So, what she tells you amounts to nothing at all!”

Cindy wouldn’t back down. “Is there any way of checking the whereabouts of Konrad that night?”

“None at all,” Beatrice snapped, “the very idea of it is preposterous. “You’ve become desperate, grabbing at anything at all to free your client. Why implicate Konrad in this? He’s a wonderful administrator and a wonderful man.”

“I’m not implicating anyone,” Cindy responded, “just reporting what I’ve heard.”

“But who have you heard it from?” Beatrice walked to her office door, flung it open and pointed, indicating that it was time for Cindy to walk through the door and leave her alone.

Chapter 17

Cindy returned to the hotel agitated both by her encounter with Ann and Beatrice. Ann seemed clear and fully able to recall what she’d heard. Was it true that her words had no standing because she’d recently emerged from a coma? Was there some way they could check her report out anyway? Cindy couldn’t wait to talk to Mattheus about it. He was scheduled to go to the jazz festival tonight and spend time with Konrad and the board of directors. Cindy felt it was crucial that he hear what Ann told her before he went.

Cindy dialed Mattheus’s phone immediately. “I have incredible information,” she started as soon as he picked up.

“Me too,” he mumbled on the other end. “It just gets crazier and crazier.”

“What do you have?” Cindy was intrigued.

“The Ranges Hospital has way more than its share of medical mistakes,” Mattheus started, “along with poor overall accountability.”

“What are the mistakes due to?” Cindy asked breathless, “drug use by the staff?”

“No proof of that exactly,” Mattheus replied.

“I thought the Ranges had such a fine reputation,” Cindy remarked.

“So does everyone else,” Mattheus replied. “These facts are something the hospital does their best to cover up.”

Cindy breathed more deeply. She’d felt from the beginning that Owen was innocent and her perceptions were now being shored up.

“I checked Konrad too,” Mattheus continued, “boy, has this guy got a checkered past. He’s worked lots of strange jobs before this, never stayed in one place for long. There’s nothing in his resume that really qualifies him for this job, either. Someone obviously got the job for him. Who knows who or why?”

“What a horrible mess,” said Cindy.

“It is,” Mattheus agreed. “Looking at the whole picture, there’s more than enough reasonable doubt here to get Owen out of jail.”

Cindy felt validated.

I’ll be seeing Konrad in a little while,” Mattheus continued. “Tell me, what do you have for me that I need to know before I see him at the festival?”

“Are you sitting down?” Cindy started.

“Of course I am,” Mattheus answered, surprised. “Why?”

“I spoke to the patient who shared Tara’s room, and found out a bunch of things” Cindy continued. “First of all she told me that Alana was also the nurse of the other patient at this hospital who died unexpectedly a few weeks ago.”

“Oh brother,” breathed Mattheus. “Why haven’t we heard this?”

“Ann also said that she heard Alana yelling at Tara the night she was killed. And, she heard Tara asking to die!”

“Wait a minute, that’s too much. Is this woman crazy or something?” Mattheus couldn’t swallow it. “These are far out claims she’s making.”

“Far out or not, it’s what she said. And I believe her,” Cindy added. “At the very least some of her claims can be corroborated.”

“For instance?” asked Mattheus.

“Ann said she heard Owen saying to Tara that she’d never be beautiful again. That has already been reported, the very same words.”

Mattheus became quieter. “Go on,” he said.

“Ann also said that she heard Konrad come into the room the night Tara died. He came in to calm Alana down. Ann heard Konrad tell Alana he loved her. How could she possible know Konrad’s name, how could she loved he was in a relationship with Alana?”

Mattheus fell completely silent.

“We have to check out where Konrad was that night,” Cindy continued. “And, the head of nursing, Beatrice Flann, already corroborated that Alana was the nurse assigned to the patient who died unexpectedly in the hospital a few weeks ago. She said it was a coincidence and the police dismissed the connection.”

“Facts and fiction mixed together,” Mattheus murmured.

“Maybe there’s no fiction here, just facts,” said Cindy.

“And even if Konrad did come to see Alana in Tara’s room the night she died, what’s the connection with Tara’s dying?” Mattheus paused, considering what he was hearing.

“Who knows?” asked Cindy. “Maybe Alana was doing a favor for him, or vice versa? It’s worth checking further.”

“It’s more than worth it, we have to do it,” said Mattheus, “I’ll confront him with everything at the festival tonight.”

*

The Jazz festival in Jamaica, famous all over the Caribbean, was in full swing when Mattheus arrived. Suntanned and dressed in a white linen summer suit and slacks, he was glad to go alone. Right now he needed the freedom of being able to roam around unencumbered, a magnet for unexpected clues. Of course Cindy was never the kind of hang onto him, but he could be tougher without her at his side.

Mattheus looked at the people streaming in from everywhere to enjoy the fantastic sounds of top jazz bands playing their hearts out under the stars on the rolling hills. With drinks plentifully available at the booths on the side, the mood was festive and rambunctious. Thanks to the police, the Board of Directors of the hospital had reserved a seat for Mattheus among them up front. Mattheus approached, wondering if he’d have to sit through the entire concert before getting a chance to talk.

The moment Mattheus stopped at his ticket’s row, a tall, nervous man stood up and greeted him.

“How do you do,” the man said, “I’m Phil Adams, Chairman of the Board of Directors for the Ranges Hospital. I suppose you’re Mattheus?”

Mattheus was impressed. He was seated next to the biggest fish without even trying.

“Yes, I’m Mattheus,” he said over the loud music. “You’re expecting me?”

“Please sit down,” Phil said quickly, indicating an empty seat next to his own.

Mattheus wondered if this was a coup or if he was being sidetracked.

“Great seat, great company,” Mattheus started, “great music.”

Phil Adams was not in a jovial mood. “The police arranged for this meeting,” he said under his breath. “It’s not exactly something I look forward to.”

“Are we supposed to talk here?” asked Mattheus going along with his tone.

Phil turned to Mattheus abruptly then. “What do you want with us? Do you know how badly Jamaica needs a hospital like the one we have? Don’t we have enough difficulty as it is?”

“Hey, I didn’t actually start all the trouble,” Mattheus reminded him.

Phil’s eyebrows rose, “But you’re adding to it whether you realize it or not. People die during comas all the time.”

“Tara didn’t die, she was killed,” said Mattheus.

Phil cleared his throat and looked in front of him. “The press are relentless and now you! We’re taking care of the problem. You’ll be happy to know that people are about to be fired,” he said grimly. “We’re hoping that will silence the papers, give the dogs their pieces of red meat.”

“Who’s going to be fired and why?” asked Mattheus, disturbed by his way of putting it.

But, before Phil could answer, Konrad suddenly appeared out of the crowd, weaving ever so slightly as he drew closer.

“Ah, here is Konrad, our hospital administrator,” said Phil, getting up as Konrad came to their row of seats.

Mattheus stood up as well. His meeting with Konrad seemed carefully orchestrated as he watched Konrad and Phil nodded at each other.

“I understand the two of you have met before,” Phil said to Mattheus, abruptly.

“We have,” Mattheus replied.

“I believe Konrad is the person you want to talk to,” Phil continued. “Our hospital administrator can answer any questions you may have. Not here, of course. Way too noisy.”

This was a clear invitation to Mattheus to leave his seat and go with Konrad to some place at the festival where they could talk out of the public gaze.

Mattheus accepted the invitation gladly. “How about it, Konrad?” he asked.

“Come with me,” said Konrad, thin lipped and annoyed.

Mattheus nodded good bye to Phil and followed Konrad through the throngs of people who were swaying, singing and thoroughly enjoying both the music and star lit night.

“Great festival, great country,” said Mattheus.

Konrad turned around and faced him. “That’s not why you’re here,” his words slurred a bit.

Drunk, thought Mattheus, as Konrad continued edging his way through the crowd up a slightly craggy hill.

Finally Mattheus and Konrad reached the top, away from the throngs of people, music and noise.

“Okay, let’s have it,” Konrad said then, “you’re not here for the music, you’re here to take us all down.”

“I’m here to find out what happened to Tara,” Mattheus answered carefully.

“Yeah, yeah, a good excuse. I heard it a thousand times. Everyone wants to blame someone when a patient dies. The doctors and nurses are convenient aren’t they, sitting ducks.”

“You know it’s interesting,” Mattheus veered off casually, “I was surprised to find out that when Tara was in a coma she shared a room.”

That took Konrad off guard. “What’s surprising about it? Nothing,” he said. “All patients in comas share a room. They have to be carefully monitored, don’t they? Besides, do you know how expensive it is to keep someone like that alive? Do you know how little room we have for them at our hospital?”

“No, I didn’t know that,” Mattheus replied simply.

“Then cut us some slack, Mister,” Konrad burst out. “We’re not exactly equipped to keep someone here in a coma for two months.”

“Then why didn’t you move Tara to another place?” Mattheus shot back.

“The family wouldn’t hear of it,” Konrad retorted. “Believe me, we tried.”

Mattheus didn’t know that.

“Tara belonged in a hospice, but her husband refused. You know why? He wouldn’t have the same kind of access to her there. They wouldn’t let him hover over her the way we did.”

“There was pressure on you to get Tara out of the hospital for lots of reasons,” Mattheus remarked. “The case was making a stink, causing bad publicity.”

“Sure,” Konrad calmed down a minute and looked at Mattheus for a long time. “So what’s wrong with that? There’s pressure on me for everything, Mister. The buck ends here.”