hour. If he has a miraculous recovery in the night that enables him to be moved, I'll come in immediately and sign off on him.'
One of the clerks stuck her head out of the CWA but withdrew it quickly when David looked at her. Two nurses whispered to each other in the doorway of Twelve.
'You said you thought he'd be ready to be moved by now,' Yale said.
'My patients don't always abide my expectations.'
Yale dropped the clipboard on the tiled floor, where it made a startlingly loud bang. 'If you insist, I suppose we have little choice.'
Jenkins and the other officers stood in a flying wedge at the hall's end, looking foolishly formal.
A grin flashed across Yale's imperturbable face and vanished instantaneously. 'We'll be here waiting.'
Diane paced tight circles while David signed out to Dr. Nelson, a young attending who'd trained under him. She walked swiftly to keep up with David as he headed through the hospital toward the lobby, avoiding the ambulance bay so he wouldn't have to pass Jenkins.
'What are you doing, David?' she said. It clearly was an effort for her not to raise her voice. 'We've released patients to custody in worse shape than that.'
'If I release him,' David said, 'he's likely to die.'
'Nobody dies of that kind of alkali burn.'
David looked at her, his stomach twisted into a knot. 'I'm not talking about the burns.'
Removing his cell phone from his pocket, he ducked into the empty fluoroscopy room and had the operator put him through to the University Police. Diane sat on a gurney, waiting patiently.
'I need to reach Officer Blake. Urgently… Yes, I would appreciate it if you'd page him to this number.' David rattled off his cell phone number. 'No, I'd rather not say what this is regarding, but please tell him it's extremely important.'
He snapped his phone shut and faced Diane. She made a circular gesture with her hand. 'I'll just ask when this is over,' she said.
He glanced at her clothes. 'What are you doing here anyway? It's your day off. I'm not used to seeing you dressed.'
'I'll take that the way it was intended.'
It had been a long time since he'd smiled, and it felt good.
'With all the shit that went down this morning, how could I not come in?' Diane said. 'I wanted to make sure you were still in one piece.'
'And am I?'
Judging by her expression, he must have looked like something someone coughed up. He fisted his stethoscope on either side of his neck and tugged on it like a scarf. 'That bad?' His phone rang.
'Blake here.'
'Officer Blake, this is David Spier, the physician who treated Clyde when he came in.'
'Oh. Oh yeah. Can I help you?'
'Where are you?'
'Can I help you with something?'
'Yes, I'd like to have an off-the-record conversation with you.'
A pause. 'Where would you like to not meet?'
'Are you in the area?'
'Yeah, I'm still on campus.'
'Can you meet me right now?'
'Where?'
'My car is parked on the top tier of the PCHS lot. It's a green Mercedes. They're not letting press through to that area.'
'I'll meet you there in five minutes.'
David hung up and gestured for Diane to follow. They threaded through the lobby and out across the dark quad. Dr. Kingston, a white-haired senior member of the board, paused and regarded David judgmentally, but David simply nodded and kept walking.
Diane kept her eyes on the ground. 'You really think they'd kill him?'
'I think Jenkins would, yes.'
'What are you gonna do?'
'That's what I'm figuring out. But I just bought myself-and Clyde-twelve hours. And this guy, Blake, there's no love lost between him and Jenkins. I'm hoping he can help.'
They reached the top tier of the parking lot, and David saw Blake leaning against the trunk of his Mercedes. He was glad Blake's police car was not in evidence.
David had parked at the far side of the tier, away from most foot traffic and passing cars. He unlocked the doors to his car, and they all got in, Diane sliding in the back.
Blake cupped his hand and ran it over his thick mustache. 'What would you like to not discuss?'
'I appreciated your helping today in the ER.'
Blake nodded, continuing to regard David a bit impatiently.
David took a deep breath. 'I'm concerned that if I release Clyde to the LAPD, he'll be killed.'
Blake's eyebrows rose and spread. 'Jenkins is a live wire.'
'I'm holding him through the night for medical reasons. Is there any way I could release him to your custody? To the university police?'
With a fingernail, Blake worked something out from between his teeth, his mustache bristling. 'No. No way. He's in LAPD custody. He has to be released to LAPD.'
'And they're taking him to Harbor for further treatment. In a transport vehicle.'
'Yeah. A squad car.'
'Probably Jenkins's?'
Blake studied David for a moment, his face textured and leathery under the light of the lampposts. 'That's not quite how it would work,' he said.
'How would it work?'
'If it was gonna work? Someone else's squad car. Jenkins following, off-duty or on. Yale and Dalton eating at a diner somewhere, somewhere with high visibility. A near-escape in a dark alley. A mix-up.' Someone walked by and Blake turned away so his face couldn't be seen. 'Of course, I don't much buy into conspiracy theory.'
David realized he was sweating. He turned on the car and put the air-conditioning on low. Blake reached over and turned the key, then looked to see if anyone had taken note of the car starting up.
'Do I have any options?' David asked. 'Could a judge do anything?'
Blake shrugged. 'Shit, I'm no lawyer, but I'd doubt it on your time line. A case this big, there'd be a huge inquiry and investigation.'
Diane leaned forward. 'How about Sheriff's Medical at USC Med? We send critical patients there sometimes. Does that fall under a different jurisdiction?'
'If the patient is critical, as in critical critical, he'd get sent there and signed in to the Sheriff's custody. But he'd still have to be transferred.'
'How?'
'By the city, actually. They'd send an LA City fire paramedic unit with a uniformed police officer over to haul him off. But LAPD won't let that fly. They're not gonna want to lose custody-it's a big fucking collar. They'll want him under their thumb at Harbor. Plus, the dude walked into UCLA-if they're walking at all, they go to Harbor, not County. And you can't bullshit this one. The LAPD chief would be over there with a second opinion from one of his guys before they'd let him roll to County.' His eyes were a weary blue. Washed out. 'Once you clear him, he's going to Harbor, all right. Unless you want to fuck him up more with drugs or something, make it so he has to roll out on a gurney.'
David shook his head. 'Can't do that.'
'How about if we contact the Sheriff?' Diane asked. 'Does he have any kind of intervening authority? Wouldn't he want the collar too? Could he send his guys over?'
Blake laughed a smoker's laugh. 'Shit, you guys don't get it. You really think the Sheriff's gonna step on the
