Mabel Maney - The Case Of The Not-So-Nice Nurse

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Cherry cried, reaching out a hand to help the handsome head nurse regain her balance. Nurse Marstad haughtily straightened her cap and got a grip on her armload of medical charts.

“Nurse Aimless, you’re late,” she said curtly as she stepped into the vacancy Cherry had left in the elevator. “And fix your cap; it’s all askew,” she added, as the doors closed in front of her frowning face. Cherry brushed aside hot tears and raced past the main nurse’s station and down the long, brightly-lit corridor that led to the Women’s Psychiatric Ward. She straightened her cap and raced through the oak double-doors opening onto the ward.

Nurse Penny Perkins was waiting for Cherry at the far end of the open thirty-bed ward. She smiled when she saw her frazzled friend.

“Am I ever glad to see you,” said Penny. “I told Marstad that the clinic called and said there was an emergency and you would be late, but you know how strict she is. Why, the way she acts, we might as well be in the army!”

Cherry nodded. It was no secret that Nurse Marstad was a tough taskmaster. She was just about to tell Nurse Perkins about her run-in with Nurse Marstad, but her co-worker wasn’t finished yet.

“It’s been so quiet all day Marstad asked me to go help out in Emergency. Call her at her office if you need help,” she added as she threw a regulation nurse’s sweater over her strong shoulders and began gathering up her things.

Cherry shuddered at the thought of admitting to Nurse Marstad that she needed help. When Cherry had met the capable yet stern head nurse a year ago at her interview for the coveted job of General Hospital nurse, she had resolved to be the best probation nurse ever. More than anything, she wanted Nurse Marstad to like her!

“Now I’m in trouble because I stopped to get the evening paper,” she thought, unfolding the newspaper she had tucked under her arm, intending to show the headline to Nurse Perkins. “Guess what happened!” she cried. But before she could continue, the emergency light flashed twice.

“That’s my call,” Nurse Perkins said gaily, sweeping past Cherry and heading toward the elevator. She waved back at Cherry. “I should be back in a couple of hours. Tell me then.”

While Cherry was most anxious to discuss the murder of Carson Clue, she realized she had a job to do, and got on with the business of nursing. It was almost time for evening medications, and Cherry busied herself preparing the pills and injections that would help her patients get a good night’s sleep. A half hour later her task was completed, and she found her attention wandering back to the newspaper story. Try as she might, she just couldn’t stop thinking about the murder. Something just didn’t seem right.

“Hannah’s been like a mother to me,” Nancy had been quoted in the Girls’ Life article. “How strange,” Cherry mused, “that helpful Hannah, who had given a lifetime of care to Mr. Clue and his motherless daughter, should turn out to be a murderess.” She wished she had time to examine the newspaper article. Perhaps there was something she had missed, something that would explain the odd turn of events.

Like her heroine, Cherry had earned a reputation as a detective. In her first month at General Hospital she had solved the mystery of the vanishing valium. Using cool logic and keen sleuthing, she was able to follow a trail to Dr. Kildare and expose him as a thief who supported a lavish lifestyle by selling dangerous drugs pilfered from the hospital. Now her detective skills were being put to good use on the psychiatric ward, where hospital authorities had twice called upon her to help identify amnesia victims.

The drama of hospital life suited Cherry, who was happiest when she was helping others. The recent nursing school graduate found her work at the big city hospital exciting after a lifetime in the sleepy farm town of Pleasantville, Idaho. And she especially loved a good mystery! She had already helped to identify one amnesia victim, now home and safe with her family. But try as she might, she wasn’t getting any closer to identifying the other amnesiac, tagged Jane Doe #313 by hospital authorities, but nicknamed Lana by the nurses because of her striking resemblance to the beautiful blond movie star Lana Turner.

There certainly weren’t many clues to go on, Cherry thought as she reviewed the case. Lana had appeared at the hospital two days before, carrying a paper sack containing a small black plastic comb, a brand-new tube of red lipstick, and a hardcover book to which she seemed unnaturally attached. No identification papers were found, and her simple, well-made clothes had no labels.

Lovely Lana quickly became the newest attraction on the ward, charming everyone with her delightful manners and sweet disposition. Even gruff Head Nurse Marstad had succumbed to her charms and had been seen at Lana’s bedside with a box of chocolates in her hand.

So far, Cherry had been frustrated in her attempts to draw anything personal out of Lana, who had remained vague during their two late-night conversations. Cherry sighed. Despite all her efforts, she had been unable to find even one piece of the puzzle.

“Tonight I’ll try extra hard to dig up a clue,” she vowed, as she carried the tray of medication through the ward. She smiled as she surveyed the attractive room, painted a cheery salmon and filled with flowers. Many nurses disliked the night shift, and would have let the long hours dampen their spirits, but not Cherry. She loved nursing under any conditions, and she especially liked working at the overcrowded old city hospital, where the patients really seemed to need her.

As a young girl she had often dreamt of a night just like tonight; dreamt of being in charge of a ward of patients, ready to soothe their pain using her gentle bedside manner in combination with the most up-to-date medical equipment available. Cherry patted her little cap and smoothed her hair into place. What a picture she made with her starched white uniform ironed just so and her crisp white cap pinned at a jaunty angle atop shiny black curls.

Suddenly the squeak of rubber-soled nurse’s shoes on shiny linoleum woke Cherry from her daydream.

“Sleeping on the job, Nurse Aimless?” Nurse Marstad asked, her arched eyebrows framing steely gray eyes. Cherry was too afraid to answer. She shook so hard the pills on her tray rattled.

“Well, Nurse?” Nurse Marstad asked, tapping her pencil against the little black book she held in her hand. Everyone knew Nurse Marstad kept a record of every infraction and referred to the book when deciding upon promotions and salary increases. Cherry had worked and prayed all year for a promotion from probation nurse to permanent staff, and so far her record was spotless. But today she had been caught off her guard twice. Surely Nurse Marstad wouldn’t be so cruel as to blemish her record over these slight transgressions? Or would she?

Cherry looked at the stern nurse through teary eyes. Nurse Marstad was scribbling furiously in her book. Hadn’t her mother warned her to get her head out of the clouds before something terrible happened? “Oh, why didn’t I listen to mother?” Cherry groaned to herself. “And on the eve of my big vacation!”

Cherry took a few deep calming breaths and got down to the business of nursing, under the austere gaze of Nurse Marstad. She was relieved to see that her first patient was Miss Lillian Bee, a quiet elderly woman suffering from a strange sleeping sickness. Cherry took a deep breath and began preparing Miss Bee’s injection. She blushed as she readied the syringe. Nurse Marstad’s attention made her nervous, and she clumsily dropped the needle. She hastily prepared a fresh injection, hoping the head nurse hadn’t noticed.