By the time Ronnie had the IV going and it had been determined the patient was stable, it was time for preliminary X-rays of the skull, right hip, and right lower leg. At that point, everyone momentarily crowded out of the room save for the X-ray technician. As Ronnie had walked out of the room, he took the bike helmet to look at it more closely, believing with mixed emotions it was what had kept Jack alive. One of the paramedics, seeing Ronnie with the helmet, approached.
“We had to bring that helmet along,” he told Ronnie. “If there was ever an argument for wearing one of those blasted things, this was it. He must have landed on his head, with the way it is broken there on the right side.”
“That’s what it looks like,” Ronnie agreed. Under his breath he cursed the freaking thing since it alone was most likely responsible for forcing him to have to finish the job in the hospital. Jack Stapleton, unfortunately, whose injury stemmed from an accident, would have to be considered a medical examiner case, and Ronnie couldn’t do anything about it. On the positive side, from a forensic viewpoint, potassium chloride was a perfect agent as it couldn’t be detected, so he wasn’t overly concerned. The only potential problem that Ronnie would have to solve was that the lethal effects of injecting potassium chloride intravenously were almost immediate, meaning the timing and the circumstances had to be taken into careful consideration. Ronnie was aware of this reality all too well, as he’d had more than enough experience in dealing with it. What was going to make it a bit more of a challenge was that Jack would undoubtedly end up in the surgical intensive care unit, where nursing supervision of each patient was significantly more than it was in a private room.
Chapter 32
Wednesday, December 8, 6:25 p.m.
Cheryl Stanford knocked sharply on Laurie’s office door and, contrary to usual protocol, opened the door before Laurie had a chance to respond. At that moment Laurie was finishing up another meeting with the deputy chief, George Fontworth, and was taken aback by the interruption.
“What is it, Cheryl?” she questioned, annoyed, as she glanced over at her secretary, who she thought had left for the day. Laurie was already late leaving and was eager to finish up and get home herself, as she liked to arrive home around 6:00 to spend time with the children instead of after 7:00, which was looking probable that evening.
“There’s a call on line one,” Cheryl said.
“Take a message, Cheryl! I’ll call whoever it is first thing in the morning.”
“I think you need to take the call, Laurie,” Cheryl said. “It’s the emergency room at the Manhattan Memorial Hospital. They need to talk with you immediately.”
“What about?” she asked as her heart skipped a beat. Despite her question, she already knew the probable answer but didn’t want to admit it.
“I’m afraid it is about Jack,” Cheryl said, confirming Laurie’s fears. “There’s been an accident.”
“Good grief!” Laurie managed as she noisily exhaled. She glanced briefly at George with raised eyebrows as if expecting some kind of miraculous help but then quickly snatched up the desk phone, pressed the button for line one, and blurted a nervous hello.
“Is this Laurie Montgomery?” a pleasant voice asked.
“Yes. What is it?”
“Is your husband named John Stapleton?”
“Yes! Is he all right?”
“He’s being evaluated as we speak. He’s been in a bike accident and will require surgery. We need you to come to the Emergency Department as soon as possible.”
“I’m on my way,” Laurie said. “How is he?”
“As I said, he is in the process of being evaluated. We’ll know more when you get here, and you can speak with the doctors. Can you give me an idea of when you might arrive?”
“Twenty to thirty minutes,” Laurie said.
“Very well. My name is Pamela Harrison. I’m a social worker, and you can ask for me directly.”
“Thank you,” Laurie said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She dropped the phone into its cradle and looked over at George. For a moment, she was at a loss for words, feeling extremes of concern and anger. “Damn!” she finally voiced. “I’ve been afraid of this call for years.”
“How is he?” George asked.
“She didn’t say, nor did she probably even know. She was a social worker, not a doctor or nurse. Obviously, I have to get to the MMH pronto. But before I go, I’d like to ask you to officially take over the reins of the OCME. I have absolutely no idea of what I will be facing nor how long I’ll be detained, but I don’t want to have to worry about what’s going on here. Can I count on you?”
“Of course,” George said.
“Please notify the operator and whoever is on call.”
“Absolutely! I’ll do both right away,” George said. “Good luck and don’t worry about anything here. I’ll handle whatever comes up.”
“Thank you,” Laurie said. Then to Cheryl she said, “Get me a ride to the Manhattan Memorial Hospital ASAP.”
Cheryl disappeared as Laurie got out her winter coat. George helped her on with it.
“I’ve warned Jack about an accident like this until I’ve been blue in the face,” she said. “I’ve even pleaded with him. All to no avail. Now all I can do is hope it is not as bad as it could be.”
“I’m sure he’ll be just fine,” George said, trying to be upbeat. “I’ve never known anybody in better physical shape than Jack, and he certainly knows how to ride a bike.”
“He does have that going for him,” Laurie agreed.
Five minutes later she climbed into an Uber, and she was on her way. The one good thing about it being already almost 7:00 was that the rush hour traffic had begun to abate, and she made good time on her travel northward. While she was in the car, she used the time to call home and talk with both Caitlin and her mother, telling them that she would be late and that she was on her way to the MMH Emergency Department because Jack had had a bicycle accident. Although she admitted she didn’t know his actual condition, she tried to sound upbeat with them as George had tried to be with her. The problem was that being a medical examiner she’d seen too many bike accidents. Laurie also talked with JJ and apologized for probably not being able to say good night before he had to get into bed. She told him that she was going to be with Dad at the hospital because he had taken a spill and had to get fixed up.
As soon as the driver pulled up to the ED entrance, Laurie was out, and she dashed up a short flight of steps and through a sliding glass door, accepting a fresh Covid mask just inside, which she quickly put on. Eschewing joining any of the several lines in front of the sign-in desk, she rushed directly up to the counter and asked loudly if Pamela Harrison was available.
“I’m Pamela Harrison,” a rather young-appearing woman said. To Laurie she looked more like a high school student than a college graduate social worker.
Laurie introduced herself, mildly out of breath from her efforts.
“Oh, yes,” Pamela said. “Dr. Sidoti would like very much to talk with you.” Without another word, the woman came out from behind the sign-in desk and waved for Laurie to follow her. Cutting through the part of the ED where ambulatory patients had their initial vital signs taken before being returned to the waiting room, Pamela led her on a shortcut directly to the trauma 1 room where Jack was located.
“If you don’t mind, would you wait here for a moment?” Pamela said at the room’s threshold.