‘It’s a good deal,’ she added. ‘I could easily get this information by other means, just a bit more slowly.’ Like most paragons of virtue, Hannes’s conviction was not so strong that he wouldn’t betray the sacred trust of his workplace for something he really wanted. Thóra had scored a hole in one.
By the end of the phone call she had all the information she needed about Alda’s temporary leave of absence from the A &E. It turned out Hannes never worked evenings or on weekends, so he hadn’t known the woman except by sight. He still knew all about the situation, which had been discussed a great deal at work. It hadn’t been drug abuse or intimate relations with a colleague or patient, but instead concerned a difference of professional opinion. Alda had turned against a rape victim, a girl she had treated after an alleged assault. As a follow-up, Alda was supposed to have been available to her as a kind of grief counsellor. At first, she had been a great help to the girl, and had done everything by the book. According to Hannes, the story went that Alda had supposedly taken this particular case to heart and stood firmly behind the girl. Then something happened that caused Alda to do a U-turn, and suddenly claim the girl was lying about the rape. Hannes didn’t know what had caused her to change her opinion, but he knew the nurse in charge of the Emergency Reception Unit had disagreed with Alda that the allegation was unfounded. According to her, Alda was having a nervous breakdown and was clearly not well enough to work. Alda was requested to take a leave of absence, which she did.
Hannes couldn’t remember the name of the girl or the alleged rapist. Thóra thought she knew who the latter was. It must have been Adolf Dadason. As well as Alda’s familiarity with Adolf’s parents, which could explain her change of heart, the time frame fitted. Also, Hannes mentioned that he had heard something about improper work ethics regarding patients in general, but he didn’t trust himself to repeat it, since it was unconfirmed and had happened after Alda went off on leave.
Before she let him go, Thóra also asked Hannes about Valgerdur’s autopsy report. Are you talking about what happened in Isafjördur?‘ he asked unexpectedly.
‘I might be,’ said Thóra, surprised. ‘Do you know something about it?’
‘Yes, a bit,’ he replied.‘It sounds like you mean the woman who apparently died in the Westfjords hospital there because of a medical error. There aren’t many cases like that, and obviously they always attract a great deal of attention within the medical community. The woman’s relatives have kept the case going in the hope of a malpractice suit and there’s litigation in progress, although a settlement hasn’t been reached. It’ll be interesting to see how it turns out.’
‘What actually happened?’ asked Thóra, since the only thing she’d understood from the report was that the woman had died after an allergic reaction to an antibiotic used to treat serious infections.
‘The woman was on a trip with the Icelandic Touring Association out west and contracted a serious streptococcus infection. Her fellow travellers didn’t respond quickly enough and, among other things, one of her legs had become gangrenous by the time she was transported to the hospital in Isafjördur. The staff there made the mistake of not asking her whether she was allergic to penicillin before starting treatment. I don’t know what kind of state she was in, actually, but they could have checked her history of allergies with a relative if she wasn’t able to respond. Anyway, she turned out to have a severe penicillin allergy which had been diagnosed when she was an adolescent, so this could have been prevented. Whether she would have survived the infection is another question, of course.’
‘But the hospital must have regulations covering these things,’ said Thóra. ‘Was her condition so bad that they thought they didn’t have time to call Reykjavik or ask her about it?’
‘There’s the rub,’ replied Hannes. ‘The woman had been admitted to that same hospital several decades before and in her medical record, which they had in their hands, there was no indication of any allergies, much less a hypersensitive allergy. So there was human error; not then, but many years earlier. Of course I’ve only heard about this and not read anything myself, but I understand the medical record states that the woman had been treated with penicillin when she was in the hospital the first time with no mention of her having fallen ill as a result.’
‘Can this allergy come and go?’asked Thóra.
‘No, absolutely not,’ he said.‘It was miswritten in the medical record, since they must have given her an antibiotic that didn’t contain penicillin. Or it’s possible she wasn’t even given an antibiotic at all, and that was the mistake in her records. I don’t remember how old she was supposed to have been when the first report was written, but she’d been diagnosed with the allergy long before that. No one is born with an allergy to this drug, but once it shows up it doesn’t disappear. Things would have gone differently if she’d been given the drug for the first time when she was admitted all those years ago, but that’s not important. She’d already been diagnosed, and even carried an allergy alert card in her wallet. You might think that the mistake they made was not looking for the card, but they say she didn’t have her wallet with her at the hospital.’
‘So she just died?’ exclaimed Thóra. ‘Can’t something be done in these cases?’
‘She suffocated when her trachea swelled shut,’ said Hannes casually, as if he were describing a runny nose. ‘Usually it’s possible to intervene but it proved impossible in this case, maybe because she was so ill before it happened. I don’t know the circumstances.’
‘How does one get hold of an autopsy report for an acquaintance, rather than a relative?’ she asked.
‘What? Don’t ask me, I don’t spend my time wondering about things like that. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, though. Only people with personal ties to an individual can get copies of the reports. You can’t just phone up and have it sent to you.’
‘One last thing – why isn’t there a universal database with information on allergies?’ asked Thóra.
‘That would be a great idea and it’s been discussed, but it hasn’t become a reality yet,’said Hannes. He was quick to turn to another, more important matter. ‘Are you at home? Can I come and get the golf clubs?’
Chapter Twenty-eight
Thóra and Bella were standing on the porch of a little wooden house that had seen better days. It was covered by sheets of corrugated iron that were rusting badly. The windows could have done with a clean, and the riot of chickweed in the garden beat Thóra’s jungle hands down. ‘Do you want me to do the talking?’ asked Bella, who had been wildly keen on making this visit, while Thóra dreaded it with all her heart. The house belonged to Alda’s mother, and Thóra knew it would go down badly when she introduced herself as the lawyer of the man who was suspected of murdering the woman’s daughter. It was just a question of how badly.
‘No,’ replied Thóra indignantly, wondering if she’d been right to make Bella come along. She had wanted her there as support if it all went wrong and the woman lost control, or even assaulted Thóra. She wasn’t afraid of a woman in her seventies, but she would rather avoid trouble and had thought Bella’s strapping build would have a calming effect. ‘I’ll do it. Just try to look sympathetic. This woman is suffering.’
They heard footsteps approaching and exchanged a glance before turning back to the door. It was Jóhanna, Alda’s sister, who opened it, and she looked surprised to see them. ‘Hello,’ she said uncertainly, looking furtively behind her.