Mattheus was impressed. He was seated next to the biggest fish without even trying.
“Yes, I’m Mattheus,” he said over the loud music. “You’re expecting me?”
“Please sit down,” Phil said quickly, indicating an empty seat next to his own.
Mattheus wondered if this was a coup or if he was being sidetracked.
“Great seat, great company,” Mattheus started, “great music.”
Phil Adams was not in a jovial mood. “The police arranged for this meeting,” he said under his breath. “It’s not exactly something I look forward to.”
“Are we supposed to talk here?” asked Mattheus going along with his tone.
Phil turned to Mattheus abruptly then. “What do you want with us? Do you know how badly Jamaica needs a hospital like the one we have? Don’t we have enough difficulty as it is?”
“Hey, I didn’t actually start all the trouble,” Mattheus reminded him.
Phil’s eyebrows rose, “But you’re adding to it whether you realize it or not. People die during comas all the time.”
“Tara didn’t die, she was killed,” said Mattheus.
Phil cleared his throat and looked in front of him. “The press are relentless and now you! We’re taking care of the problem. You’ll be happy to know that people are about to be fired,” he said grimly. “We’re hoping that will silence the papers, give the dogs their pieces of red meat.”
“Who’s going to be fired and why?” asked Mattheus, disturbed by his way of putting it.
But, before Phil could answer, Konrad suddenly appeared out of the crowd, weaving ever so slightly as he drew closer.
“Ah, here is Konrad, our hospital administrator,” said Phil, getting up as Konrad came to their row of seats.
Mattheus stood up as well. His meeting with Konrad seemed carefully orchestrated as he watched Konrad and Phil nodded at each other.
“I understand the two of you have met before,” Phil said to Mattheus, abruptly.
“We have,” Mattheus replied.
“I believe Konrad is the person you want to talk to,” Phil continued. “Our hospital administrator can answer any questions you may have. Not here, of course. Way too noisy.”
This was a clear invitation to Mattheus to leave his seat and go with Konrad to some place at the festival where they could talk out of the public gaze.
Mattheus accepted the invitation gladly. “How about it, Konrad?” he asked.
“Come with me,” said Konrad, thin lipped and annoyed.
Mattheus nodded good bye to Phil and followed Konrad through the throngs of people who were swaying, singing and thoroughly enjoying both the music and star lit night.
“Great festival, great country,” said Mattheus.
Konrad turned around and faced him. “That’s not why you’re here,” his words slurred a bit.
Drunk, thought Mattheus, as Konrad continued edging his way through the crowd up a slightly craggy hill.
Finally Mattheus and Konrad reached the top, away from the throngs of people, music and noise.
“Okay, let’s have it,” Konrad said then, “you’re not here for the music, you’re here to take us all down.”
“I’m here to find out what happened to Tara,” Mattheus answered carefully.
“Yeah, yeah, a good excuse. I heard it a thousand times. Everyone wants to blame someone when a patient dies. The doctors and nurses are convenient aren’t they, sitting ducks.”
“You know it’s interesting,” Mattheus veered off casually, “I was surprised to find out that when Tara was in a coma she shared a room.”
That took Konrad off guard. “What’s surprising about it? Nothing,” he said. “All patients in comas share a room. They have to be carefully monitored, don’t they? Besides, do you know how expensive it is to keep someone like that alive? Do you know how little room we have for them at our hospital?”
“No, I didn’t know that,” Mattheus replied simply.
“Then cut us some slack, Mister,” Konrad burst out. “We’re not exactly equipped to keep someone here in a coma for two months.”
“Then why didn’t you move Tara to another place?” Mattheus shot back.
“The family wouldn’t hear of it,” Konrad retorted. “Believe me, we tried.”
Mattheus didn’t know that.
“Tara belonged in a hospice, but her husband refused. You know why? He wouldn’t have the same kind of access to her there. They wouldn’t let him hover over her the way we did.”
“There was pressure on you to get Tara out of the hospital for lots of reasons,” Mattheus remarked. “The case was making a stink, causing bad publicity.”
“Sure,” Konrad calmed down a minute and looked at Mattheus for a long time. “So what’s wrong with that? There’s pressure on me for everything, Mister. The buck ends here.”
“Rough job,” Mattheus commented.
“I’ve had worse,” said Konrad.
“It’s up to you to oversee who’s hired here, right?” Mattheus continued, glad that Konrad was like a loose cannon tonight, talking freely.
Konrad’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah I oversee who’s hired. So what?”
“So you knew about Alana’s past, didn’t you?” Mattheus said slowly.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Konrad looked puzzled for a second, then froze up. “You leave Alana out of it.”
“You knew that Alana had been fired from her past job for negligent patient care, right?”
Konrad lunged at Mattheus for a second and then pulled back. “See, that’s what I mean,” he breathed, infuriated. “No one gives anyone a break. Did you take time to check the facts of the case? The person Alana took care of was old; she died of old age. The family jumped all over it and blamed her for no reason.”
Mattheus remained unruffled. “You can say anything you want to excuse it, but how come you decided to hire a person with a past like that?”
Konrad stared at Mattheus in pain. “You stay the hell away from Alana,” he muttered. “She’s one hell of a beautiful woman and a fabulous nurse.”
“She has her moods though, doesn’t she?” Mattheus pressed harder.
“Oh yeah?” Konrad became furious. “Who’d you hear that from?”
“Just heard it,” said Mattheus, not wanting to tell him what the patient in Tara’s room had said.
“So, if she has her moods she has a right to them, doesn’t she?” Konrad suddenly guffawed. “You’re gonna tell me now a person’s doesn’t have right to have moods? You think it’s easy working here for rich, white people? You think they were all so good to Alana?”
“Tara never hurt Alana in anyway, though?” asked Mattheus, hoping to get more out of him.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Konrad’s eyes narrowed. “You’re accusing Alana of killing Tara now?” He couldn’t bear that thought of it. “That’s too much, way too much, Mister.”
“Listen,” Mattheus took a step closer, wanting to turn up the heat. “I’m not saying Alana killed Tara, I’m saying there are plenty of ways medical mistakes happen all the time.”
Konrad lifted his hands as if he were going to grab Mattheus for a second. “Not at this hospital, they don’t.”
“Oh yeah they do,” Mattheus got into his face. “In fact, from the research I’ve done, I see that there are more medical mistakes at your hospital than in most others. And, you guys got a drug problem and lousy accountability too. I’m sure your donors don’t know about all of it, either.”
Konrad stopped in his tracks and froze. In the silence between them the sound of the jazz below sounded almost like a distant cry.
“You get the hell out of Jamaica,” Konrad said then, in a threatening tone. “Or, for all you know you could be strung up to an IV too.”
Then he turned swiftly and fled down the hill, disappearing into the throngs of drunken people, happily singing along to the music below.
Chapter 18
When Mattheus returned from the jazz festival Cindy was downstairs in the hotel lounge, having a glass of wine alone. It was unusual for her to do this, but also comforting to be with others and listen to the supper music, lightly playing. Suddenly Cindy felt someone step up behind her, lean down and pull her into his arms. Startled, she jumped.