How long will you be, madam?” the driver asked. He was holding the car door as Jennifer climbed out. During the ride from the hotel to the hospital she had managed to fall asleep for some twenty minutes or so, and now felt distinctly worse than she had when she’d started. Still, she wanted to talk with Kashmira Varini.
“I’m not sure,” Jennifer said, looking up at the hospital. She’d just gotten the idea to go up to the fourth floor where she’d been told her grandmother’s room had been and see if she could find the day nurse who’d been assigned to her case. “But it won’t be long, not the way I feel.”
“I’ll try to stay here,” the driver said, pointing down at the ground, “but if the doormen chase me, you’ll have to call my mobile.”
“No problem,” Jennifer said.
As had been the case on the earlier visit, the two colorful doormen opened the double doors without Jennifer having to say a word. Because it was hotter outside than it had been that morning, it felt colder inside. As far as she was concerned, it was definitely over-air-conditioned.
At that time there were forty to fifty people in the lobby, all either upper-middle-class Indians or well-to-do foreigners. Near the admitting desk were a handful of prospective patients, some sitting in wheelchairs. A number of hospital staff were in evidence with their charges in varying stages of the admitting process. Glancing into the coffee shop, Jennifer could see it was full, with some people standing and waiting for tables.
With the aplomb garnered from all the hours she’d spent in a hospital, Jennifer didn’t hesitate in the slightest from making her way over to the elevators. When she boarded, she made certain the button for the fourth floor had been pressed, and then melted into the background.
For Jennifer, the patient floor was one of the most pleasant she’d seen, and she’d seen her share. The floor itself was covered with attractively colored high-quality sound-absorbing industrial carpet, and combining it with a high-tech acoustic ceiling and walls constructed of sound-dampening material, the ambient noise was muffled down to almost nothing. Even the sound of a large, fully loaded food tray cart was minimal as it passed behind Jennifer while she walked over to the nursing station.
Several patients had just returned from surgery, so most everyone was busy, including the floor clerk. Jennifer just watched. She was impressed how similar the protocols for running the floor seemed to be to what she’d experienced at UCLA Med Center, despite her being halfway around the world in a developing country.
In a relatively short time the immediately postoperative patients had been settled in their rooms, stabilized, and returned to the company of their next of kin. As abruptly as it had started, the flurry of activity dissipated. It was then that the floor clerk, whose nametag said merely “Kamna,” happened to notice Jennifer. “Can I help you?” she asked.
“I believe you can,” Jennifer responded. She wondered if Kamna was a proper name or meant something like clerk. “My name is Jennifer Hernandez, and I am Maria Hernandez’s granddaughter. I believe she was a patient on this floor.”
“You are correct,” Kamna said. “She was in room four-oh-eight. I’m very sorry.”
“I am, too. Is this a common problem here?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Are deaths relatively frequent?”
Kamna jerked almost as if Jennifer had hit her. Even the head of one of the nurses using a computer terminal bobbed up with a shocked expression on her face.
“No, it is very rare,” Kamna said.
“But there was another one just last night around the same time. That’s two in a row.”
“That’s true,” Kamna agreed nervously. She looked down at the nurse for support.
“I’m Nurse Kumar,” the woman said. “I’m the head nurse on this floor. Can I be of assistance?”
“I wanted to speak to whoever was taking care of my grandmother.”
“There were actually two. First there was Ms. Veena Chandra, who is new to our staff, and since she is new, a senior nurse by the name of Shruti Aggrawal was assigned to supervise.”
“I suppose it would be safe to say that Ms. Chandra would have been the person actually interacting with my grandmother.”
“That’s correct. Everything had gone entirely normally. There had been no problems whatsoever. Mrs. Hernandez had been doing excellently.”
“Is Ms. Chandra available?”
Nurse Kumar paused while giving Jennifer a moment of scrutiny, perhaps worried that Jennifer could possibly have been a deranged woman in the hospital to exact revenge. Everyone was acutely aware of the Hernandez demise. But apparently, Jennifer had passed muster. “I don’t see why not. I’ll see if she can speak with you now.”
“Perfect,” Jennifer said.
Nurse Kumar got up, walked down the corridor a way, and after a quick glance back at Jennifer, disappeared into a patient’s room.
Jennifer glanced back at Kamna, who’d not moved a muscle. She was clearly still unsure of Jennifer’s mind- set and intentions. Jennifer flashed a smile, intending to calm the woman, who appeared like a rabbit ready to flee. The woman flashed a smile back, one even more fake and fleeting than Jennifer’s. Before Jennifer could try to put the woman at ease, she saw Nurse Kumar emerge from the patient room with a young nurse in tow. Jennifer blinked. Even in a nursing uniform, the newly hired nurse looked like a beauty queen or a movie star, or even more irritating, as far as Jennifer was concerned, a lingerie model. She was the kind of female who never failed to make Jennifer feel fat. She had a perfect body and a photographer’s dream face.
“This is Nurse Veena Chandra,” the head nurse said when the women had reached the station. At the same moment, the elevator arrived and out stepped one of the uniformed guards Jennifer had seen downstairs. Since he just seemed to be lingering in the background, Jennifer sensed that the head nurse had called down when she’d been out of sight.
Veena greeted Jennifer, palms together. Jennifer tried to imitate the gesture. Veena was even more beautiful up close, with flawless bronze skin and stunning green eyes, which Jennifer found mesmerizing. The problem was the eyes didn’t engage hers except for fleeting moments before looking away, as if Veena was bashful or somehow self-conscious being in Jennifer’s presence.
“I’m Jennifer. Mrs. Hernandez’s granddaughter.”
“Yes, Nurse Kumar has told me.”
“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
Veena exchanged a quick uncertain glance with her head nurse, who nodded that it was okay.
“I don’t mind.”
“Maybe we could step over to those chairs by the window,” Jennifer said, pointing to a small sitting area with a modern couch and two chairs. Jennifer felt crowded by the head nurse and the clerk, who were standing like statues, hanging on every word.
Veena again looked to Nurse Kumar, which began to confuse Jennifer. The woman was acting as if she were twelve, whereas Jennifer guessed she was in her twenties, even if just barely. She was acting as if she would have preferred being anywhere but where she was, facing a conversation with Jennifer.
Nurse Kumar shrugged and gestured toward the sitting area.
“I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable,” Jennifer said to Veena as they walked over and sat down. “I didn’t even know my grandmother was in India when I learned she had died. So I’m not very happy about her death, to put it mildly, and I’m looking into it to a degree.”
“No, you’re not making me uncomfortable,” Veena replied tensely. “I’m fine.” For a brief moment the image of Maria Hernandez’s contorting face flashed in her mind’s eye.
“You are acting very nervous,” Jennifer commented, trying vainly to make sustained eye contact.
“Maybe I’m afraid you are angry with me.”
Jennifer reflexively laughed, not loud but more in surprise. “Why would I be angry with you? You helped by grandmother. My goodness. No, I’m not angry. I’m thankful.”
Veena nodded but seemed unconvinced, although she did allow herself more eye contact.
“I just wanted to ask you how she was? Did she seem happy? Did she suffer at all?”
“She was fine. She wasn’t suffering. She even talked about you. She told me you were becoming a doctor.”
