Jeff Sherratt - Detour to Murder

The nurse and I continued to walk in silence. This wasn’t the time for small talk, and I didn’t ask about Al. I figured she wouldn’t comment on his condition. That would be the doctor’s responsibility and he wouldn’t want anyone butting in on his territory.

At the end of the hallway we rounded a corner and came upon a brightly lit nurses’ station. A couple of women in whites worked behind the counter.

Another nurse sat at a workspace below the countertop. Her head bent, she appeared to be filling out charts, writing reports, or perhaps doodling; what did I know? She looked up when we approached.

“Marie,” my escort said, “this is Mr. O’Brien, here to see Mr. Roberts.”

Marie glanced over her shoulder and looked through a glass partition that offered a view of the ten or twelve beds behind her. Each bed held a patient partially covered by a tangled greenish sheet. They all had white tubes going up their noses and green tubes stuck in their arms and hands, hanging loose at the edge of the bed. The green ones were connected to oxygen outlets in the wall and the white ones to IV bottles hanging from a T-bar standing at the foot of the beds. The patients had electrical wires hooked up to them. The wires ran from their bodies out over the bedrail, and the ends were plugged into black boxes with dials and glowing numbers fastened to the wall behind the beds.

If one of those bizarre gizmos were present, the thing with two lightning rods sticking out of it and an electric spark buzzing like crazy and dancing back and forth between the tips, I would’ve thought I was staring at Dr. Frankenstein’s new high-tech lab, turning out monsters by the dozen.

Marie stood. “This is highly irregular,” she sighed, “but who am I to argue with the doctor? You’ll only be allowed to see him for one minute and that’s my rule.”

She came around from behind the counter and said, “Follow me.” I did, and she led me to Al’s bedside.

I wasn’t shocked by how he looked. When I was a cop, I’d seen a number of gunshot victims and he looked better than most. But of course, the majority of those I had seen were already dead.

I took his hand. His eyelids fluttered for a moment and remained open at half-mast. “Jimmy…” he uttered in a barely audible voice. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. Just get better.”

“They told me… I might… not make it… say my prayers… They’re… full of… shit.”

“Of course you’re going to make it. Hell, I’m not worried.” I glanced up at Marie. She tapped her watch with a finger. Not much time left before she’d throw me out. I had to get to the point. I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Al, the doc said you wanted to talk to me. What do you want to tell me?”

“I need… a favor.”

“Sure.”

“Get… me… the fuck outta… here… I promised…”

“Promised what?”

“I promised… I’d take… her home.”

“I’ll do my best, Al. Goddammit, I’ll make sure…”

With difficulty he turned his face toward me and gave an almost imperceptible nod. Suddenly his eyes opened wide.

“Al, the cops say you had a gun. They say…”

His eyelids closed slowly, like drawing the curtain on the final act. The monitor flatlined and the beeping changed to a steady drone.

Marie quickly shoved me aside and started pumping on his chest. She kept pumping. In a few seconds the machine on the wall started to beep again. “Get out of here!” she shouted without stopping. “Tell the nurses to get a doctor, stat!”

I stood, frozen. But only for a second. I ran to the nurses’ station. They were already in high gear. One held a microphone to her mouth, and I could hear her voice reverberating around the halls: “Code blue, intensive care, stat!” She repeated the page twice. Other nurses darted into the room. One had a large syringe in her hand.

The nurse holding the mike nodded toward the hallway, indicating that I should leave.

“No! I have to stay. I have to know-”

She dropped the mike. “Sir, leave the area, now!”

“But-”

“Look, you’ll just be in the way. Go to the waiting room. I promise I’ll come and tell you the minute there’s a change-good or bad.”

I turned and started walking the long, lonely walk back toward the lobby.

What would I say to Kathie, and what would she tell her mother?

Two guys who appeared to be doctors raced around the corner, rushed past me and headed to the ICU.

If I had been any kind of a religious person, I would’ve mumbled a prayer.

I did anyway.

Capt. Russo and most ofthe police had left. One uniformed officer remained. He sat quietly in the lobby and didn’t seem to notice me when I returned from the intensive care unit.

Kathie, standing by the window, rushed to meet me with a hopeful look in her eyes.

“It’s bad Kathie. His heart stopped with me standing right there next to him.”

“Oh, my God-” She collapsed in my arms.

“No, no, wait. I’m sorry. He’s alive.” I held her and said, “The nurse got his heart started again right away.”

She pushed away. “Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t know. But they called for some doctors. I saw them rushing to the ICU. They’ll save him, Kathie. I know they will.”

“Oh, God. Please…”

“They’ll talk to us as soon as they know something.”

I took her hand and we walked to the ICU waiting room. The small room, decorated with bright cheery wallpaper and a potted plant, was devoid of people. We sat together on a couch facing the door. Kathie took a magazine from the coffee table and thumbed through it absently. She tossed it down and picked up another, thumbed through that one as well.

“What time is it?” she asked.

I glanced at my watch. “Almost three. Do you want to leave? I can stay-”

“No! I’m staying too.” She stood and started to pace the room. “I should have never-” she turned back to me. “I mean… I’m sorry, Jimmy. I acted like a fool when I tried to get you to back off at Al’s parole hearing. Interfering the way I did.”

“Stop wearing out the rug and sit down, please. We’ll talk.”

Without protest she sat next to me.

“Kathie, you didn’t scare me.” I let out a chuckle. “If you think that act of yours at the burger place in Chino had me worried, then you’ve been watching too many of your father’s old movies.”

“You didn’t worry or wonder about me at all?”

“Yeah, I wondered. I wondered what you were doing at an In-N-Out without ordering one of their great burgers.”

“Oh, Jimmy…” Her voice tailed off; she rested her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes. Soon she began to breathe in a steady rhythm. She had fallen asleep with me staring at the door. I put my arm around her. She felt warm and nice, and for a moment I wondered what it’d be like if she fell asleep next to me every night.

I didn’t move, just continued to stare at the door. It’s taking a long time for the medical staff to let us know what’s going on, I thought. That could only mean Al Roberts was still alive. If he had died, they would’ve told me right away.

I had no way of knowing if the doctors were still working on him. I considered the possibility that his brain might have been damaged when his heart stopped. But it was only stopped for a second or two, not long enough to cause a loss of oxygen, not long enough to cause permanent damage-I hoped.

My back began to ache from sitting in the same position, but I still didn’t move a muscle. I didn’t want to wake Kathie. Sleep would be good for her. Her mind would be at rest-at least for a little while.