and seemed to have every likelihood of so continuing now . .
343
He should perhaps have rung Lewis from upstairs Lewis had a flat-key
instead of ringing 999.
But then, he realized, Lewis wouldn't have had all that medical equipment,
now would he?
He'd been a little disappointed that he'd heard no ambulance siren.
But then, he realized, there wouldn't be all that much traffic, even in
Oxford, at such an early hour, now would there?
Soon, he knew it, they'd be asking for his
'Religion'.
But then, he realized, it wouldn't take too long for him (or them) to write
down
'None' in some appropriate box, now would it?
'Next of Kin', too. Trickier that though, because the pen- ultimate member
of the Morse clan had recently died, aged ninety-two.
But then it wouldn't take too long to write down
'None' again.
And there were more cheerful things to contemplate. Perhaps Nurse Harrison
would be there in the ward again to sit by his bed in the small hours . . .
But then, he realized, Yvonne Harrison was now dead.
Perhaps Sister McQueen would be on duty to pull him through again?
But then, he realized, she was away for a month in far Carlisle, tending a
frail, demanding mother.
The kindly paramedic held him down gently as he tried to sit up on the
stretcher.
'Lewis! I must see Sergeant Lewis.'
'Of course. We'll make sure you see him as soon as they've had a quick look
at you. We're nearly there.'
The night nurse in the 'goldfish-bowl', at the right of the Emergencies
Entrance, watched as the automatic double-doors opened and the paramedics
wheeled the latest casualty through, deciding immediately that Resuscitation
Room B was
the place for the newcomer. Quickly she bleeped the Senior House Officer.
The next ten minutes saw swift and methodical action: blood samples were
promptly despatched some whither chest X-rays were taken; an
electrocardiograph test had firmly established that the patient had suffered
a hefty anterior myocardial infarct. But it was time for another move; and
the activities of a young and kindly nurse with a clipboard, dutifully
requesting details of medical history, next of kin, religion, and the like,
were mercifully cut short by a specialist nurse who with all speed supervised
an urgent transfer.
Morse had always delighted in sesquipedalian terminology, since his education
in the Classics had given him much insight into the etymology of words more
than a foot-and-a-half long. And now, as he lay in the Coronary Care Unit,
he listened with interest to the words being spoken around him: thrombolysis;
tachicardia, strep to-something-something. One thing was certain: much was
happening and was happening quickly again. As if there were little time to
spare . . .
Were angels male or female? They'd started off life as male, surely?
So there must have been a sort of trans-sexual interim when . . .
Morse's mind was wondering . . What gender was the Angel of Death then,
whom he now saw standing at the right-hand side of his bed, with a nurse
holding one gently restraining hand on a softly feathered wing, and the other
hand on his own shoulder.
Morse awoke to full consciousness again, opened his eyes, and found Lewis's
hand on his shoulder.
'Sorry to disturb you, sir.'
'You? What the 'ell are you doing here?'
'One o' the par as - knew who you were and heard you say, you know .
. '
Morse nodded, and smiled.
'How you doing, sir?'
'Fine! It's just a case of mis-identity.'
'I mustn't be long. They've told me just a coupla minutes, you know.'
'Why's that?' asked Morse wearily.
'They say you need, you know, a lot of rest.'
'Law-is! Why do you keep saying ' you know' all the time?'
'Not said ' actually' yet though, have I?'
'When you go up to bring Harrison in today ' ' Tomorrow, sir. '
'You sure?'
'Quite sure.'
'Don't forget! I'm doing the interviewing.'
Lewis turned to find Nurse Shelick standing behind him. 'Please!' her lips
mouthed, as she looked down on Morse's intermittently closing eyes.
'Shan't be a second, nurse.'
He bent down and whispered: 'Anything I can do, sir?'
Morse's eyes were sdll closed, but he seemed to regain some of his earlier
coherence.
'Yes. Second drawer down on the right. There's a Carlisle number for Sister
