“Not suggesting,” Carver said. “He died of heart failure?”
“Pure and simple, Mr. Carver.” The eyebrows formed a severe V again, this time in obvious frustration, “You’ve got to understand, these people are aged; the human body wears out, develops afflictions.” Did Pauly glance at Carver’s bad leg? “Kearny Williams’s death was anything but unexpected. His medical records will attest to that, even from before he came to Sunhaven.”
“What do you know about a man named Raphael Ortiz?” Carver asked.
Dr. Pauly brought his hands around in front of his body, tucked his thumbs in the side pockets of his cutoff jeans, and stood hipshot. It was a defensive posture. He looked more like a street-corner lounger than a doctor. “Mr. Ortiz came to me as a patient in Miami a few years ago.”
“What was wrong with him?” Carver asked. “Bearing in mind the Hippocratic Oath.”
“He’d suffered a series of deep cuts.”
“From a knife fight?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You must have asked how he’d gotten hurt.”
“I did. All he’d say was that it was accidental.”
“Could the wounds have been sustained in a knife fight?”
“I don’t think I’ll answer that one, Mr. Carver. Mr. Ortiz has seen me since, and he’s still my patient. He was more or less forced to see me the first time; you have to understand, a man like that, he’s suspicious of doctors. Once he went to one, though, he became grateful for the treatment. He developed an excessive idea of my capabilities. I’m the only doctor he’ll see. It’s something of a fixation, actually, and not uncommon in people like Mr. Ortiz.”
“So if he happens to skin a knuckle on somebody’s teeth, he runs to you for treatment.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Dr. Pauly said. “But I guess maybe it is that way.”
“Then you’re aware of his history of trouble with the law in Cuba and then here? What he does to get his money? The kind of man he is?”
“What Mr. Ortiz does is none of my business. A man comes to me in need of treatment, I’m not going to interrogate him before administering to him. I don’t moralize or sit in judgment before I set broken bones or stop bleeding. That’s not what being a doctor’s all about.”
“ ’Course not,” Carver said. “But what if he came to you with, say
… a gunshot wound?”
“Mr. Ortiz has never asked me to treat a gunshot wound. If he did, I’d be suspicious and notify the police according to law.” He frowned, made a thin, straight line of his mouth, and searched for words, “Mr. Carver, there’s nothing unethical about my treatment of Raphael Ortiz. Nothing unethical happening at Sunhaven, either.”
“That you know of.”
“Well, sure. But I think if there were, I would know it. I’m the doctor the patients see most frequently; they trust and confide in me. And I know the rest of the staff quite well. They have their individual characteristics and personal problems, but they’re professionals and damned good at their work.”
“Including Nurse Rule?”
“Especially Nurse Rule. So she’s not every man’s idea of the ideal dinner date. She runs Sunhaven’s nurses and attendants with the uncompromising efficiency of a Prussian officer. Is that bad?”
“Not if the Prussians are on your side.”
“You’ve met the enemy and it’s not Sunhaven, Mr. Carver. It’s old age. It’s hardened blood vessels and stiff rheumatic joints. And suspicion that’s had enough incubation time in the brain to hatch paranoia. It’s senility. It’s loneliness and constant discomfort.”
“You talk as if you don’t want to grow old,” Carver said.
“But I do. What I just described is the dark side; not all residents are that way. For most of them these really are their golden years. We do everything possible to see to it. Their responsibilities are behind them, their families visit them frequently, and Sunhaven relieves them of their anxieties. If they’re in reasonably sound health for their age, they’re happy, Mr. Carver. Happier than they’d be anywhere else, for the most part. I’m not saying some of the residents aren’t leading miserable lives; it happens, and, eventually, to most of them-until death puts an end to it. That’s the sad reality of the world. But if you think Sunhaven’s hell, drive through the bad side of town, any town, and catch glimpses of the aged who are homeless and in obvious need of attention they aren’t going to receive.”
Carver thought the doctor had a point.
Pauly withdrew his thumbs from his pockets. He scratched his chest through the T-shirt. Seemed nervous.
“They pay you well at Sunhaven?” Carver asked.
“None of your business, of course, But I feel I’m fairly compensated. Though as you can see, I’m a long way from wealthy.”
“What do you know about Dr. Macklin?”
“She’s competent and kind. I enjoy working under her supervision.”
“Would you say she needs somebody like Nurse Rule to actually run Sunhaven? I mean, an assistant tough enough for the dirty details?”
Dr. Pauly didn’t know what to do with his hands, so now he slid his fingertips into the jeans pockets and stood erectly with his elbows pointed out. He looked like a space shot ready to be launched. “Oh, I wouldn’t describe it as that kind of arrangement. Dr. Macklin can be quite firm when it’s necessary. Nurse Rule never usurps Dr. Macklin’s authority. I’d say they have a good working relationship.”
“Are you aware that Nurse Rule went to the police so they’d question me about my talking to Sunhaven residents?”
“I am,” Dr. Pauly said. “And to be frank, I think she acted needlessly. She’s a bit of a zealot about her job, Mr. Carver. Many managing nurses are. It’s what makes them good at their work, and what sometimes causes problems. At times they tend to overreact. You’ll find at least one Nurse Rule in almost every major medical facility.”
Dr. Pauly sighed loudly and ran a hand over his face. It was suddenly too warm in the small living room. He walked over and adjusted the thermostat for more air conditioning. There was a soft click, and a low hum from the back of the house. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Carver… I’ve been up most of the night and I’m pretty much exhausted.”
But not too tired to do housework, Carver thought.
He said, “I understand. Sorry to bother you, doctor.” He used his cane to raise himself to a standing position.
“I’m glad to help, naturally,” Dr. Pauly said, “but the thing is, you’re trying to find a crack in something that isn’t broken. Sunhaven might not be run to perfection-not many institutions are-but we do try, honestly.”
Carver moved the short distance to the door. Dr. Pauly stepped over to usher him out, but he didn’t open the door for him, didn’t make his passage easier because of the stiff knee and cane. Point for Pauly.
“One thing before I go,” Carver said. “When and where is Kearny Williams’s funeral?”
“I couldn’t say for sure,” Dr. Pauly told him. “Mr. Williams’s family’s had the body shipped to them in New Orleans.”
Carver thanked the doctor for his help. Apologized for taking up his time.
“Wish I could help you more,” Dr. Pauly said. He seemed to mean it. “I don’t know who’s given you the notion something unsavory is going on at Sunhaven. I can understand why they might, though. Listen, we’re all on this earth temporarily, but none of us likes to admit it, even in old age. It’s the human way of looking at life, I’m afraid. And not looking at death. We all tend to deny our mortality, but we’re nonetheless mortal.”
Carver limped outside into the sun and left Dr. Pauly to his housework. Dust to dust.
17
Carver returned to Edwina’s and found she was away on the job. The echoing house was silent except for the breathing of the ocean. This must be what it was like inside a seashell.
He made a few phone calls, then piled some of his clothes as neatly as possible on the backseat of the Olds. Hot work. Sticking his head inside the car was like poking it into an oven set on Bake. He hoped none of his polyester shirts would melt.