There it was. The first push toward Bader.
“How long has he been with you?” I asked Stockwell.
“About two years.”
“He moves around a lot.”
“I’m sorry?” Her gaze sharpened a little.
“I looked at his biography on your website and he seems to have worked in a lot of different places. Should we be concerned?”
“On the contrary. I think it’s a credit to his abilities that so many institutions have wanted him on staff,” she said.
“Is he here today? Can we meet him?”
“I’ll have to check his office.”
“Please do.”
Stockwell looked us both over, worked up a passable smile and walked to a nursing station at the far end of the corridor to make the call.
“Whatever they’re up to, she’s in on it,” Jenn said.
“Right up to her chignon. Listen, when we meet Bader, let’s see if we can find where they keep the medication records. If the opportunity arises, say you need the washroom and scope it out.”
“Looking for what?”
“How much they keep on hand, for one thing. And how secure it is.”
“Let’s see if Blondie lets me off the leash.”
Heels clicked loudly as Alice Stockwell came back. “You’re in luck. Dr. Bader is in his office. He’ll see you now.”
We exited the ward and headed back to the common area, where Stockwell carded us through the door that led to the staff offices. Bader stood waiting outside his office: short and pear-shaped, with brown eyes, a full beard and curly brown hair. The effect was that of a warm and fuzzy bear, the kind who might break out in a Russian circus dance.
Introductions were made and we were invited to sit opposite Bader’s cluttered desk, while Stockwell stood in back of us like a proctor overseeing an exam. Cabinets and shelves on the wall behind Bader were stacked with industry samples of medications.
“Alice tells me you have concerns about medical care at our facilities.”
“Not concerns as much as questions,” I said. “There are so many things we’re working through right now. Mom’s legal affairs, her investments, closing up her apartment… we’re just a little overwhelmed.” Jenn put her reassuring hand on my shoulder again. It was something I could get used to.
“Rest assured we’ll do everything we can to make this part easier,” the fuzzy doctor said. He was so sincere I wanted to climb over his desk for a hug. “Our standards of care meet or exceed those laid out by the province. We have policies in place to prevent patients from going missing, from experiencing extreme hot or cold temperatures, from choking, from being abused by other patients or staff. We train all staff in CPR and first aid, including the security guards. We have nurses available around the clock and I am on call when not actually on the premises.”
“That’s good to know.”
“What about medications?” Jenn asked. “My mother-in-law takes quite a few and she can’t keep track anymore.”
“Once again, everything is done according to strict government guidelines. And of course we’re a proud member in good standing of the Residential Care Association.” Bader showed us a four-page form with a lot of shaded boxes and multiple-choice questions. “We do a complete assessment of my own design when the client is admitted and I personally sign any orders for medications.”
“What if Mom’s doctor wants to review what she’s taking, make sure nothing is contraindicated? Are there records you can fax him? Or that he can come and see?”
Bader looked past me-at Stockwell, I assumed-then established eye contact again. “Absolutely. The records are available if we need them.”
“Here on site?”
“Yes. Though as Alice may have mentioned, I’d be happy to serve as your mother’s physician. If that made things easier for you.”
“But you don’t know Mom’s history like her doctor does.”
“It’s her current reality that matters, not her history. I would see her virtually every day. I could monitor her condition and adjust her medications with greater subtlety and precision than someone who sees her twice a year.”
“I guess that makes sense.” I looked at Jenn. “Doesn’t it, hon?”
“It does. It really does.”
“Though I’d reserve the right to keep Mom’s doctor involved if the change seemed overwhelming. If she needed… I don’t know, continuity?”
“I suppose so.”
“Terrific,” I said. “I feel much better.”
Jenn swivelled in her chair to face Alice Stockwell. “Is there a bathroom nearby?”
Stockwell pointed to a door down the hall. “It’s a staff room so I’ll have to swipe you in.”
“Thank you,” Jenn said, and the two of them left.
“About your mother’s stroke,” Dr. Bader said, his pen poised over the assessment form. “Was it diagnosed as ischemic or hemorrhagic?”
A little warning bell tinkled in the back of my mind. I hadn’t done a lick of research on strokes, which I normally would have done in prepping a story. But it wasn’t my case and Franny had given me no time. “You know,” I said, “we don’t have to do this part now. We’ve taken enough of your time. Linda and I should get back downtown. I’ll get the details from her physician and call you.”
“Why don’t you give me his number. I can call him directly.”
“I don’t have it on me.”
Bader’s phone burred softly. He picked it up and spun around in his studded leather chair. He listened briefly, spoke even more briefly and hung up. He pushed off with his feet and spun slowly back to me. “Where was your mother admitted after her stroke?”
“Beth Israel.”
“What day, please?”
He had me and he knew it. “It was night.”
“All right then. What night?”
“It’s all a blur. Listen, thanks again,” I said. “I’m just going to wait for Linda in the hall.”
When I got to the doorway, it was filled by Big John from the front desk. He clamped his hand hard around my left arm. I looked down the hall where Jenn had gone and saw no one.
“Sir?” John said. “Why don’t you come with me back to the lobby.”
“Where’s my wife?”
“Ms. Stockwell will bring her along when she’s done in the little girls’ room.”
Getting tossed out of the place didn’t worry me as long as they tossed Jenn too, so I went along. But as we entered the lobby area, I saw two men getting out of an SUV outside the main entrance. One was the round-faced melonhead who’d been smoking outside when we arrived. The other was a tall concave guy in a mournful black suit. The Melonhead walked briskly toward the main entrance while the Suit took a paved walkway toward the rear. This did not bode well for me or Jenn. Time to loosen Big John’s grip. I kicked back with my heel and caught him sharply on the knee. He gasped and let go of my arm. I drove my elbow back into his nose and felt cartilage give. I turned, grabbed his hair, pulled his head down and hit him again in the same spot with my knee. He dropped to the floor, moaning, gurgling and spitting blood.
The Melonhead was steps from the front door. I ran behind John’s desk and scanned the monitors. Most showed empty entrances and exit doors. The day room. The dining room. Corridors in the residential area. The corridor outside Bader’s office. A rear exit. There! Alice Stockwell was trying to push Jenn out the door from the inside; the Suit was trying to pull her out. Jenn was braced in the doorway, kicking any part of him that came close.
I grabbed the swipe card off John’s belt as the Melonhead strode into the lobby. His eyes took in John’s legs lying across the floor. I bolted out from behind the console and swiped myself back into the hall that led to Bader’ office, pulling it shut behind me. I ran down the hall, hoping I was going the right way, looking left and right for a weapon of some kind. Around a corner I saw a woman in a pale blue uniform loading metal bedpans from a closet onto a wheeled cart. I grabbed one of the bedpans as I ran past her.