M. Forsythe - While Rome Was Sleeping

“What runner?” Savalza was writing as he questioned.

Ponderously, Andrew continued, “We had been sitting on a bench talking. We were just getting ready to leave when this guy comes running out of nowhere and stumbles into the bench. He almost landed in her lap. I yelled, and I think he muttered something like “sorry, didn’t see ya’, got his balance again and ran off. He was wearing a two piece sweat suit and he had the hood of the jacket pulled over headphones he was listening to; no wonder he didn’t see us.”

“What did he look like?”

“I don’t know—just a guy; you know—average build, average height nondescript sweat suit… dark gray I think. I couldn’t see his face because of the hood. Now we know why, huh,” Andrew sighed and leaned back again.

“We crossed the street and Charlie wanted to look in the windows of a book store close to where we’d parked the car. Then she remembered her tote bag by the bench, those other people were in the car” he said pointing to the room where two of the victims were being treated, “Charlene almost ran into their car— everything happened so fast,” he shook his head, “I yelled at her to be careful; that I would get the tote, but she didn’t listen,” he said softly. “Anyway that’s when it happened.”

Jim listened intently then closed his notebook saying gently, “That’s enough for now, here’s Father Ben,” he said seeing the priest approaching.

Ben’s usually placid face reflected shock and concern seeing Andrew’s cut arms and bandaged head. His shirt was bloodstained and tattered. “Andrew, Andrew my friend, what happened?” Father Ben asked urgently. He looked at Jim and hesitantly asked, “Where is Charlene?”

“She’s really hurt, Ben,” Andrew answered emotionally.

Jim interjected, “Doctors think she’ll be okay, Father Ben. Let me fill you in.”

A harried looking young man in a green scrub suit appeared, “Come on Mr. Kincaid, you’re next,” he said as he directed Andrew into a treatment room and pointed to an examining table. “By the way, I’m Doctor Doug Bennett; now let’s see, Andrew…” he said as he glanced at the information on the clipboard the young woman had gathered earlier. “It says here that you were near the blast. I see that you have some cuts and abrasions and you complained of ringing in your ears which is not too surprising—often happens to people who have been close to an explosion. Is that all?”

Andrew nodded, “Yes, that’s what I said.”

“Well, let’s just have a good look to make sure there are no other problems, shall we?” Dr. Bennett looked in Andrew’s eyes with appropriate “Mmhmnns and then examined his ears and listened to Andrew’s heart and lungs; then, after thoroughly examining him for any other neurological damage, stepped away saying, “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Kincaid, you do have a mild concussion, but there is no permanent damage. As for your ears, the ringing will go away in a few days.

“That’s a nasty gash on your head and it looks like it will probably need a stitch or two,” he said removing the temporary dressing from the injury on Andrew’s forehead. “Bad bump there along with the cut—how did it happen? Did you get hit by debris?”

Andrew shrugged. “I don’t remember exactly… it hurts though.”

“Well, we’ll take care of that right now.” While a nurse cleaned and bandaged the contusions on his arms, Dr. Bennett sutured the gash on Andrew’s head, “This won’t take long. You need to have someone look at it in a week or…”

“Dr. Bennett—I want to see Charlene Thayer,” Andrew said emphatically, interrupting the doctor.

“I’ll see what I can do, ah…” he paused, “Are you a relative?”

“In a way, look, I need to see her,” Andrew insisted.

“All right, don’t get excited, I’ll arrange it—right after you get a tetanus shot.” Dr. Bennett said quietly, as he nodded to the nurse and she injected Andrew.

Coming out of the treatment room the doctor spoke with Father Ben and Jim briefly. “He’s okay—he can go home if there will be someone with him. He should be kept quiet for a few days. No driving etcetera, and his physician should check that head in a week or so.”

Father Ben shook his head, “I don’t believe Andrew will leave the hospital unless he knows that Mrs. Thayer is going to be all right, doctor.”

“Mrs. Thayer?” Dr. Bennett looked surprised. “Is there a Mr. Thayer?”

Jim answered the inquiry, “No Doctor, Charlene Thayer is a widow. I think Father Lee is right—I don’t think Andrew will want to leave. We’ll take care of him, and thanks… you take good care of her . She’s a special lady,” he urged, his voice dropping. They waited with Dr. Bennett as Andrew emerged from the room.

“Come on, Andy, let’s get you home and cleaned up a little. Then we’ll bring you right back here. Okay?” Jim put a strong hand on Andrew’s shoulder.

“I will, but I have to see her before I go… the doctor said…”

Dr. Bennett nodded and guided Andrew to a room where a medical team conferred as a nurse was monitoring Charlene’s vital signs. She was still unconscious. Dr. Bennett nodded to the nurse as Andrew moved to the bedside. Taking Charlene’s hand he gently kissed it and whispered, “Hang in sweetheart, I’ll be here.”

Jim and Father Ben were eager to hear any report from Andrew, but he just shook his head as he rejoined them. “She’s still out.” His words were mixed with frustration and concern. “Ben, please, will you stay here until I get back? I’ve got a couple of things to do.”

“Of course I will Andrew, and I will anoint her. Remember, my friend, we have a great source of help in our Lord. I will be praying—for both of you. It will be all right,” he said reassuringly.

“Come on, Jim, let’s go.” Andrew felt slightly energized. Maybe it was pure adrenaline. He had something to do.

Andrew had forgotten about Jack and found a note telling him that Hubbard would be at the WAC asking that Andrew call later.

On the way home, Andrew had told Jim they had to remove all the bugs in the apartment. They entered quietly and Jim silently pointed out each of the locations of the listening devices and then carefully removed each one. As they finished, Andrew breathed a sigh of relief. “If I had just been smarter, Charlene and those other people would be all right now. Me and my big mouth!”

“C’mon, Andy, you were targeted,” Jim said in defense. “Maybe something worse would have happened; you know better than to think that whoever did this was going to just forget about you and Charlene Thayer.”

“Maybe you’re right, but whoever was listening picked up some things that I wish they hadn’t heard. Have you spoken with Neil Klein today?” As he talked, Andrew stripped off the damaged clothing and splashed some water on his face. Looking in the mirror at the reflection of the bandaged and bruised individual looking back, he shook his head. “Looks like I’ve been in a fight with a big cat and lost,” he said, closely examining the scratches and the bump on his forehead.

“In answer to your question, no, Andy, I haven’t talked to Klein today, but then I haven’t been home all afternoon,” he said wryly. “And yeah, you do look a little the worse for the wear. I suppose now you’d like to go back to Harborview,” he stated.

“Not just yet. I need to make a couple of calls but not from here unless you know how to remove a phone tap, Jim?”

“Uh uh, negative, not this one. Want to go to the Times or my office?”

“Your office would be more private, right? Then you can drop me at the hospital.”

Jim nodded as Andrew closed the door behind them.