Healed to Death, page 27
Kenzie rolled her eyes. “Why are they jumping on the bandwagon without knowing anything about what happened? I haven’t even issued my report yet. What are they doing, assuming they know the details when they don’t?”
“You might want to fill her in.”
“Yeah, for sure,” Kenzie agreed. She looked at the clock on the wall. But it wasn’t like Lisa would still be in bed. She was always up early, finding it much easier than Kenzie to get up in the morning. Even on a Sunday, she wouldn’t have slept past six-thirty or so. And if she had a brunch fundraiser to go to, she might have gotten up even earlier. “I’ll give her a call.”
Kenzie took a few large swallows of coffee to fortify herself. She had been working with the family foundation more closely for over a year but still didn’t fully understand how it worked. She was often embroiled in an investigation when they wanted her to review an organization or make a decision on some policy change. As much as she could, she just let the rest of the board make a majority decision, assuming that they had done the research necessary. But there had been several decisions lately that had seemed like they had been rushed and due consideration had not been given to all of the aspects of the case. Blaming Lisa for the decision to fund the mobile clinic was unfair when the entire board had approved it.
Kenzie tapped her mother’s name on her phone favorites and waited for the call to go through.
“Mackenzie,” Lisa purred into the phone. “It’s lovely to hear from you. How are you this fine morning?”
“I’m pretty good. Taking things easy this morning. How about you? I hope you aren’t getting any grief over the publicity about Jack Lane’s case.”
There was a beat as Lisa considered what to tell her about it. “Well, as you might have guessed, they are concerned about the exposure. But I know a lawsuit hasn’t been filed, and things have been quiet in the media since the original release. It has been tapering off.”
“But the board is still concerned?”
“It is their job to be concerned with the foundation’s reputation and how people perceive it. I have been getting some backlash about the shift in focus to mental health, addiction, and homelessness. They are saying we should not be getting away from ‘hard science’ in favor of… well, a lot of nonsense about how people need to help themselves and that mental health issues place an undue burden on society…”
“If they aren’t taken care of, yeah. Do they think they are going to be better off if we don’t treat people with mental illness and worry about other ‘soft’ social issues?”
Lisa laughed. “You’re very blunt, dear.”
“Somebody needs to knock a few heads together.”
“Perhaps. Sometimes, when people spend too much time sitting around pontificating about the ills of society instead of getting out into the trenches, they can… get some very strange ideas about how to solve the problems we are facing.”
“Well, they need to get their heads out of… the clouds and see how the real world works.”
Lisa continued to chuckle. “Well, I’m happy to have you on my side, dear. I don’t suppose you have any information on Mr. Lane’s death that might help to… redirect the concerns of the members of the board?”
“Well, actually, yes.”
60
Kenzie paused to gather her thoughts.
“The media reported that the mobile clinic had treated Mr. Lane and must have missed something or not treated him properly, because he died.”
“Yes.”
“The doctors at the mobile clinic knew about Jack’s alcoholism and the serious medical conditions he was suffering as a result of his drinking. But you can’t just take someone off the street and send them into rehab. They have to make that decision for themselves. They did the best they could to make him comfortable.”
“Was it that dire? And they knew it?”
“Yes, they knew he was getting towards the end of his life. That he was on his final days or weeks.”
“He should have been in the hospital. Or a hospice of some kind.”
“Would you have forced him to?”
“Well, I don’t suppose there was any way I could have forced him,” Lisa admitted. “If someone refuses treatment, they have to let him go. Even from the hospital.”
“Yes. Once a patient refuses treatment, there’s little you can do about it.”
“So that was what happened to Mr. Lane? He refused treatment, and his illness took its natural course?”
“No. He was treated by someone else. Someone who called himself the Night Doctor.”
“The Night Doctor. That sounds rather romantic.”
“I guess he saw himself as a hero figure. A savior of all of the homeless.”
“But he was not able to save Jack.”
“No. He ended up killing him. He was practicing without a license, and he made a mistake. Gave him the wrong blood type.”
“And that killed him?”
“Yes. Very quickly. He would have died almost as quickly if he had not been treated, but there was no chance once he had been given the wrong blood type.”
“But it wasn’t the mobile clinic. They didn’t do anything wrong or fail to find something they should have.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, that’s good news. That should help to calm the sharks a little, at least.”
“This doctor had once been working with the mobile clinic. But they fired him because he was not competent to practice medicine.”
“A positive and a negative,” Lisa mused. “Bad that he was working for the mobile clinic, but good that they recognized him for what he was and fired him before he treated Mr. Lane.”
“Right,” Kenzie agreed. “Once his name is released, I’m sure the reporters will investigate whether he worked for the mobile clinic, and they’ll find a trail there.”
“Knowing ahead of time will give us a chance to do damage control. I’ll get in touch with counsel and our communications consultant, and we’ll start crafting a statement. How sorry we are about Mr. Lane’s death, that this highlights the need for vigilance and for awareness of the problem. To ensure we have highly qualified doctors treating the indigent and are not just scraping the bottom of the barrel.”
Kenzie nodded to herself. This was Lisa’s wheelhouse. She would put together a press release that hit all the right notes, promoting the foundation while expressing sympathy for those who had known Jack Lane. Rather than being an indication that they were putting their money into the wrong thing because a man had died, it would show that there was even more need for funding in the area and encourage people to donate to a very important cause.
“That sounds good, Mom. I’m sure it will all turn out okay.”
“I’m not sure it will satisfy all the naysayers; but then, nothing ever does. There will always be detractors. Pessimists and dissemblers. There are always people who try to pull down instead of building up. But you and I are builders, aren’t we? We’re not going to let them do that.”
“No. We’ll get it all sorted out.” Kenzie smiled at her mother, including her in the statement. She did not see herself like Lisa in very many ways. But Lisa was right about that; Kenzie was always trying to build and move forward, not to tear down what everyone who had gone ahead of her had done.
“How’s Dad?”
“He’s fine. You should give him a call. I’m sure he would like to hear from you.”
“I will.”
It was just another confirmation that her parents were leading separate lives, even if her father was back to living in the mansion again. It was big enough to accommodate several families. There would be no problem with Walter and Lisa each leading separate lives that only occasionally crossed paths in the entry hall or the kitchen.
But she could be wrong. Lisa might just be at the foundation offices and Walter at home, so Lisa could not call Walter to say hello to his daughter while they were on the line together.
“I have a question for you, Mom.”
“Yes, Mackenzie?” Lisa adopted a formal tone.
Kenzie realized that her statement might have come out sounding stiff and made an effort to sound more natural and friendly.
“Do you remember the woman who you had to speak at the gala? Maria?” There had, of course, been more than just one speaker that night. There had been a whole parade of individuals from all walks of life.
“Certainly. I remember Maria.”
“Did you meet her personally? Was she… what do you remember about her? Was she… clear when she spoke to you?”
“Yes, she was quite clear and well-spoken. Not necessarily the type of person you expect to find homeless. It makes you stop and reconsider your personal biases about the homeless.”
“She didn’t have any odd ideas or seem… out there?”
Lisa laughed. “Goodness, no, certainly not. She was just the type of person you would expect to find working at an accounting firm or boutique store. Very well-organized and professional. As I said, she was well-spoken. I don’t know what else to say about her.”
“Because when I talked to her, she was very different. Erratic. Paranoid.”
“When you talked to her at the gala?”
“No, no. This past week. She came to me because she knew me from the gala and knew I was the medical examiner who had worked on Jack.”
“And they knew each other,” Lisa said. “Ah, that makes sense. She wanted to know what had happened to him and thought that you would be able to help. She must have been acting differently because of grief. That can affect people quite a lot, you know.”
“Yes, I know that. But I would not expect it to make her act so paranoid… she wasn’t very coherent.”
“That does not sound like the Maria I know,” Lisa said firmly. “Something must be wrong. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I’m hearing the same thing from multiple people, so I guess it must be true. She’s been admitted to the hospital. Hopefully, they will be able to find out what’s going on and get it straightened out.”
“She’s been admitted?” Lisa repeated. “What for? Where?”
“In Clintock. She was… involved in an incident with the police yesterday and is being evaluated. It was pretty clear something was going on with her yesterday.”
“I will go see her. Do you think I’ll be able to? Will they let me in?”
“Possibly not within the evaluation period. You might want to call ahead to find out what the rules are.” Kenzie was impressed that Lisa knew Maria well enough to be concerned with her and want to be at her side. Maria was not just some “face of the homeless” that Lisa had plucked off the street and knew nothing about. She was not being exploited for what had happened to her, but was, hopefully, actually someone who wanted to spread the word about the good the foundation was doing and how they needed more funding if they were going to continue working with the homeless and other underserved communities in the future.
“Thank you for letting me know. I don’t imagine the hospital would have called me. I will make sure they know who I am and that I stand at the ready to help in any way I can.”
“I’m sure that will help,” Kenzie agreed. Lisa would see that no expense was spared. Whatever evaluation and treatment Maria needed, she would get it.
61
Kenzie didn’t manage to fit everything she wanted to into Sunday. But then, she never did. There was always more to be done than she could possibly fit in.
But at the end of the day, at least she had felt like she’d caught up on a few things. She was calmer and more relaxed and, although she wasn’t looking forward to returning to the morgue on Monday, she at least felt like she had caught up on her sleep.
She knew she was going in to finish the medical examiner’s report on Jack Lane’s autopsy. Then she would try to get caught up on the other reports, emails, and various tests that needed to be coordinated.
“Are you worried it will be awkward with Dr. Cook?” Zachary asked over breakfast.
Kenzie nibbled on her toast, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety twisting in her stomach. She dreaded facing Dr. Cook, knowing what she now did about him. How he had known when she first went to him that his friend was practicing medicine illegally and had not told her or the authorities. Maybe he had talked to Hartfield and tried to convince him to stop, but he had to know at that point that talking wouldn’t get him anywhere. As Morrison had said, they had ample evidence that no matter who tried to stop Hartfield from practicing, he was going to go on and continue to treat people until he was physically stopped. Dr. Cook should have gone to the police or the medical board. He’d had a responsibility to do so to ensure that Hartfield was not able to injure or kill anyone.
“It’s not going to be easy,” she admitted to Zachary. “He’s been a good boss while Dr. Wiltshire has been gone. Different, but still good, and I have learned a lot from him. He was always respectful of my space, and friendly and helpful. But… he should have talked to someone before Jack was killed. And he should have talked to someone after.”
Zachary nodded his agreement. He swirled a spoon around in the yogurt container and then put it in his mouth.
“But I’ll manage,” Kenzie said. It would be awkward, as Zachary had suggested, but she could look beyond that and focus on the working relationship. He was still the same doctor as he had been the week before. She would learn what she needed to from him, get his approval on reports he needed to sign off on, and otherwise stay out of his way.
Kenzie’s phone rang. She looked down at it and, even though they normally did not answer phone calls during mealtimes, she swiped to accept the call. She tapped the speaker button. “Captain? You’ve got me and Zachary.”
Morrison’s voice came through the speaker. “Did you enjoy your day off?”
“It was good,” Kenzie told him. “I suspect I got more rest than you did.”
“You are probably right,” he admitted. “I was here or somewhere else taking care of this case for most of the day.”
“Did you need something more from us? I will hopefully have the medical examiner’s report on Jack Lane to you today.”
“I actually have information for you.”
“On Jack Lane?”
“On Maria. Normally, we are not allowed to pass on private medical information, even to the medical examiner, unless it is about your victim. But in his case, Maria explicitly authorized us to talk to you and tell you what the hospital found.”
Kenzie leaned toward the phone. “Great! I’m glad to hear they found something. Does that mean she is feeling better?”
“I’m told it will be a while before she recovers. It took a while to build up, and they will need to taper off gradually.”
“It was a medication?” Kenzie discerned.
“Apparently, Dr. Hartfield prescribed corticosteroids for Maria’s asthma and arthritis. She had an adverse reaction. I guess there is a well-documented link between paranoia and corticosteroids.”
“I’m not familiar with it, but it’s not surprising. There are a lot of drugs that can have adverse reactions, some of them common and some of them not. Hartfield shouldn’t have been prescribing anything, of course, but he wouldn’t have known she would react that way.”
“Unless it was a reaction she had previously experienced.”
“Of course, but—” Kenzie realized that the captain was telling her Maria had, in fact, reacted to the class of drugs before. “She had? He should have learned that when he took a medical history or checked her records.”
“Unless he skipped over that part,” Zachary contributed. “I’m guessing it’s another demonstration of the fact that he doesn’t do very well at record keeping.” He had another spoonful of yogurt, thoughtful. “She said they started following her after she first saw Dr. Hartfield.”
“She did, didn’t she? Were there any records in that storage unit?” Kenzie asked.
“Hardly any paper at all. Some personal records. Aside from that, he had a couple of bikes and plenty of medical supplies, a lot that he shouldn’t have been able to get without a valid medical license. Some personal belongings that… did not belong to him.”
“Didn’t belong to him?” Kenzie frowned at the phone, then glanced at Zachary’s face to see what he made of this news.
“At this point, we don’t know who they belonged to. Apparently, he knew better than to hang on to their IDs. But he had clothing, jewelry, and other personal possessions from unknown individuals.”
“The patients who disappeared,” Kenzie realized.
“What’s that?” Morrison asked.
“When we started making inquiries about the Night Doctor on the street, we were told that some of his patients had disappeared.”
There was a short silence as Morrison considered this. “There were no human remains in the storage unit. We will… do our best to identify who they belonged to and look into where they went. These items may be all that is left of them.”
62
The most recent discovery had Kenzie even less eager to go to work as usual, but she steeled herself and did what she had to.
The office was quiet when she arrived, and no coffee had been brewed in the break room. Dr. Cook was almost always there ahead of her, so she was surprised but pleased to be the first one in and be able to work through her weekend emails and correspondence before having to see him. It would be almost like when Dr. Wiltshire had been there.
She lost herself in her work, eager to get as much administrative work done as she could before Dr. Cook got in. It was some time later when she heard the elevator down the hall and knew that he had arrived.
Kenzie looked up as footsteps rounded the corner and came down the hall. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes opened wide.
“Dr. Wiltshire!” She stood up.
“Dr. Kirsch. How has your morning been so far?”
“Quiet. I’ve just been catching up on the weekend influx and my report on Jack Lane. But what are you doing here? Did you need to pick something up?”
