Jamar went to a phone and called Dr. Raj. It took a while, but he agreed to pay the additional money. Dr. Raj pointed out that there is a time limit for harvesting, so they needed to work quickly.
Walter gathered his thoughts and went back to the resident housing near the hospital. He quickly cleaned up and came back dressed in a suit, clean shaved, and hair groomed. He located the family, who were now in a private area of the hospital where they were meeting with religious people of their faith for burial arrangements.
Waiting for the deceased man’s wife and daughter to come out of the waiting area, he cautiously approached them, introducing himself as Dr. Walter Ross. He had two more years of study before he could legally call himself a doctor, but that was the only way to lend credibility for what he was about to ask.
Mostly, they all understood English. He talked for what seemed like a half hour and was getting nowhere. The wife had no intentions of allowing parts of her husband to be cut out of his body. Walter had but one shot left, and that was to lie.
“If there was a way to bring your husband back, would you be open to that?” Walter asked, looking into her eyes.
The room was silent, and she and her daughter focused on Walter. He got on his knees in front of the woman, took her hands and held them.
“In a week, there is a man who will die without a kidney transplant. If you allow us to harvest your husband’s kidney, this man will live,” he said, looking directly into the grieving woman’s eyes.
“What you are feeling right now, the family of the man who needs the kidney transplant is also feeling. Her husband and his children know he is dead, just not today, but in a week or two. There is not much difference,” Walter said, standing to his feet.
He looked around and could see he had their attention. He took the wife and the daughter’s hands and squeezed them gently.
“What if I went to that family and said, ‘Your husband is going to live. Your father is going to live. All because another loving family did not want you to go through what they went through. Wouldn’t that be great?” Walter asked, taking a breath.
Tears ran down the woman’s face. “No one should feel this pain.”
“Don’t you think your husband would want to spare another family such pain if he could? Well, he can, with your help.”
“Would we know the person?” the wife asked.
Walter looked at Jamar for the answer. Jamar had a blank look on his face. “I’ve never been asked that.”
She looked at Jamar with tears in her eyes, waiting for the answer. There was a short window of opportunity, or he would lose the lady’s interest.
“If that is your wish, you will be told who received your husband’s kidney,” Walter said.
The family broke down in tears. Walter waited for a reply. He had to let them process everything and hope the resulting answer was yes. The silence lasted too long. Walter and Jamar looked at each other. Jamar pointed to the clock, letting Walter know he was running out of time.
“Think about it; your husband will live through someone else. Even a small part of him allows someone else to live,” Walter pleaded.
“Please, go forward,” she said in her language.
Walter was not sure what she had said, but Jamar rushed to her with a letter to sign. The wife signed it, and Jamar rushed to a phone to call Dr. Raj.
Walter expressed his gratitude and sat with the family while Jamar took care of business. He shook hands with the woman and assured her she had done the right thing.
“I promise you, your husband is smiling down on you,” Walter said.
“Thank you. I think we did the right thing. I’m at peace, and I believe my husband is too,” she said.
Walter left the room rejuvenated, despite just finishing a twelve-hour shift. He felt some guilt the way he sold the woman on the idea, but that quickly went away when the thought of two thousand dollars earned in less than an hour came to mind.
His office door opened abruptly, and he was startled, breaking his train of thought. “Dr. Ross! I didn’t know you were here,” his secretary said.
“I came in through the back door,” Walter said, snapping out of his trance.
His secretary put a stack of mail on his desk and left. He looked through the mail but knew he had a more pressing problem and reached for his personal phonebook. He looked through it for Amir’s phone number. He had to ask for an advance, for future organs. He knew three hundred thousand was a lot to ask for, but it was the only way out of his dilemma. With Larry and Michael breathing down his neck, he had to put pride aside. He had no choice but to plead for financial help.
The next day, he once again sat nervously at his desk. It had been two days since he called Amir, and it was not like him to not call back quickly, especially after he explained the urgency in his message.
He continued to try the traditional way of raising the money, through his attorney who controlled his trust and by using another bank, but neither would consider giving him any additional money. Amir was the last resort for a cash advance on future organs.
He flipped over the phone message his secretary had given him hours ago from Larry Dunbar. There were only three days left before the money was due. He took a deep breath and dialed Larry’s phone number. It rang twice, and someone answered like he had been waiting for the call.
“Hello, Walter,” Larry said, looking at the caller ID on the phone.
“Larry, you called?” Walter asked.
“Just checking on how things are coming along,” he said.
“Fine, Larry, no problem. But, I’ve got a few surgeries on Friday, so it would be best to catch up with me maybe late Saturday,” Walter said taking a deep breath.
“I’ll yank you out of the operating room if I have to. Have my money by noon Friday,” Larry said in a very demanding tone.
The phone went dead. Walter had always talked his way out of things to finagle around and buy time. He was in serious trouble, this time.
His secretary abruptly came through the door. “I have Mr. Amir on line two.”
Walter quickly picked up the telephone. “Amir! Where have you been?”
“You gave me a tall order. It takes time,” Amir said.
“I know, so what do you have for me?”
“Nothing, my friend,” Amir replied.
“Nothing! What about all the business we’ve done in the past?” Walter asked.
“It’s just that, my friend—business,” Amir pointed out. “You harvest the organs; we will send a plane and the money. Just like we have always done.”
“Amir, I counted on you,” Walter said.
“I’m sorry, my friend; it’s just business,” Amir said, hanging up the phone.
Walter was shocked. He thought Amir would come through. He was backed into a corner and knew only one way to get out of this. Over the last fifteen years, he had always been careful, and now, he had to step out of his comfort zone and be directly involved. He picked up the phone and called his secretary.
“Yes, sir,” she said, talking into the telephone.
“Find Jack Warren and have him come to my office,” Dr. Ross said.
“Yes, sir, right away.”
Jack arrived at the doctor’s office. In the corner of the room was a sofa and Jack took a seat. Dr. Ross poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Jack as he took a seat in a chair across from him.
“Jack, you’ve been okay?” Dr. Ross asked.
“Yes, sir. I’ve been fine,” he answered.
“I have a delicate situation, and I need it handled with the utmost discretion,” he said, shifting one leg over the other.
“You know you can always count on me,” Jack said.
“There is a person who is in desperate need of a heart transplant. My medical team thinks they are comfortable using organs of anyone we have in the hospital who has a donor card on file and a signed do not resuscitate form,” Dr. Ross said, leaning back in his chair.
“I w
ould have to check each chart for sure and get back to you with a report,” Jack replied.
“That will be acceptable. We have to be ready—should someone die. I would appreciate the report by the end of today.”
“I’ll have it on your desk by five p.m.,” Jack said, drinking the rest of his coffee.
“You understand the importance of this. We just want our records in order should an unfortunate situation come up,” Dr. Ross said.
“Yes, Dr. Ross, I understand,” Jack said.
“Should there be a donor, an envelope will be waiting for you,” Dr. Ross said. “Jack, under no circumstances do you take this task on yourself. I want the doctor on duty to verify the findings before making any decisions. At that point, I will handle the process and go forward. This report is only to keep our records updated and, most of all, accurate in the event we would ever need it. Our goal is to save lives through organ transplants with the best match. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Dr. Ross.”
They shook hands and exchanged smiles. He knew what Dr. Ross was asking, and it had been a long time since he requested his services. Jack was happy to accommodate him. The envelope he would get would have ten thousand dollars in it, and that was all the motivation Jack needed. Dr. Ross thanked him for coming over so quickly and opened the door for Jack to leave.
Chapter 5
Zack was getting adjusted to Riverside Inn and most of the residents. He learned early on to stay away from Jack, and that he did. He tried to work with Dave in keeping the room clean, but that just didn’t work out. So, they agreed only half the room would be in disorder, Dave’s part. That way Zack could feel some order in his life.
Zack was enjoying Riverside Inn. There was always activity going on, no matter how early he got up in the morning. Coffee and breakfast were ready early too. Zack, Emma Lou, Pearl Ann, and Dave stuck together. Dave was one of the longest residents, and he showed them all the tricks he had learned over the years, such as how to get late-night snacks after the kitchen closed. Dave had yet to show them his most accomplished adventure of sneaking out of the house after curfew. He just didn’t know if they were ready and if he could trust his secret with them.
In the hallway, on the way to the dining room, was a bulletin board. Posted were the daily events, coming special events, and items the residents were selling. Zack enjoyed reading the board while they waited in line for the dining room to open. As usual, Emma Lou, Pearl Ann, Dave, and Zack were the first in line.
Zack pointed out some new items posted. “Betty Walker has a quilt for sale. Only twenty bucks and Judy Moore has a coat for sale.”
Pearl Ann noticed the two index cards posted on the bulletin board and asked Alberta, a woman who worked in housekeeping, “Where can I find Betty Walker?”
“Betty Walker? Honey, she’s at Highland Lawns, been there for a while.”
“Oh, my! Highland Lawns, like in cemetery?” Pearl Ann asked.
“That’s right,” Alberta said, taking the card off the board.
“What about Judy Moore?” Pearl Ann asked, pulling the other card off the board.
“She stays right next to Betty. You don’t want to go knocking on their door,” Alberta said with a slight smile as she walked off.
Pearl Ann and Emma Lou looked at each other with fear and couldn’t get in the dining room fast enough.
The dining room was full, and Zack, Dave, Pearl Ann, and Emma Lou sat at a table together. In the corner of the room, Jack and Robert Sherwood were standing, overlooking the dining room. Night after night, Zack asked the server when they would have steak and lobster.
The server gave him the same answer every night. “Maybe tomorrow.”
The server put a plate of the Tuesday night special in front of each person.
“Mashed potatoes, thinly sliced pieces of roasted beef, and vegetables. You don’t need a calendar around here to know it’s Tuesday,” Zack said loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Steaks, steaks, we want steaks!” Zack chanted hoping the rest would follow, but there was no support and his voiced echoed throughout the dining room.
Jack came across the dining room like a dart and stood over Zack. He didn’t have to say anything; Zack knew he went a little too far with his remarks. But that was Zack; he always said what was on his mind.
In the kitchen, Jerry was finishing the prep on the desserts as the servers loaded their trays to take to the residents. Troy put two rib-eye steaks on the grill, knowing Jack would soon be in for his dinner. Jack ate every night in the kitchen with Christie at a small table in the corner. Jerry and Troy had to stay late to serve him, like he was in a fine restaurant. A good bottle of wine, some prime steaks, and Jack was a happy camper. Troy iced a bottle of champagne and placed it in the spa for Jack and Christie’s final step to a romantic evening.
Jack came through the kitchen double doors, like a bull. “Is my steak ready?”
“Coming right up, Boss,” Troy said.
Christie came in and joined Jack at the table, and he became occupied with her. Troy needed that, as he motioned to Jerry. He flipped the steaks over, just for a few seconds, and dropped them on the filthy floor. Jerry knew the routine.
“Two steaks are coming up, Boss,” Troy said as he pressed his grimy boot on top of the steaks. Then he slid the steaks across the floor to Jerry. He picked them up with his big fork and put them back on the grill.
“Just locking in the flavor of our special seasoning,” Jerry said, putting the steaks on a plate and walking it over to Jack’s table.
“Enjoy,” Jerry said, backing away from the table with a grin from ear to ear.
The last person left the dining room, and Jerry called it a night. Jack and Christie headed to the spa to relax with some champagne in their hideaway.
Every night after dinner, the lights were turned down in the halls and common rooms. A few residents enjoyed the big-screen TV; others turned in early. The nurses station was well-lit. For the two people on duty, there was not much to do at night but read a book or look at the TV. Jack lived in the building and enjoyed the fine meals and the spa. People could always tell when Jack was in there, from the light under the door.
The spa was well-insulated, so the loud music Jack liked got muffled within the four walls of the room. The late-night nurses enjoyed the gossip and let their imaginations run wild, wondering just what Jack and Christie were doing.
“Wine with dinner and a bottle of champagne, with two naked bodies in a hot tub. She better be climbing all over his muscles or let me in and I’ll show her what to do,” Carol, a nurse, said to her coworker.
Carol heard a disturbance coming from the kitchen. She knew one voice was Jerry’s but did not recognize the other. The dining room door burst open, and a big, tall man rushed down the hall toward the nurses station. His worn blue jeans and mud-dried boots, along with a tanned face and chest, suggested he was a construction worker.
Jerry followed him, blaring, “He busted through the back door when I was leaving.”
The man wouldn’t stop, so Jerry ran behind him and grabbed his neck. With one flip, the man dropped Jerry to the floor and pushed his boot into his chest. “I’m not looking for trouble. Just my wife, Christie,” he said.
Carol had heard Christie talk about her husband, Barry, but she’d never met him. “I believe she’s just finishing up with someone,” Carol quickly replied.
“She’s pushing fourteen hours here. That’s why she quit the big hospital because of too many hours,” Barry said with veins popping out in his neck.
Carol was lost for words and knew she could not hold him off too long. She could only hope Christie and Jack did not walk out together half-dressed.
“Where is she? Do I have to bust every door open?” he asked as he took his foot off Jerry’s chest and started down the hall.
Christie adjusted her white uniform top and tried to compose herself before opening the door. “I’ll see you in the morning, Mrs. Jen
kins,” she said, closing the spa door behind her and motioning to Jack to be silent.
“Barry, honey, what are you doing here?” she asked, running to her husband.
He fussed with her, but Christie cut him off and gave him a big kiss. She escorted him down the hall to the front door, with one arm around his waist and the other on his chest.
“Goodnight, girls,” she said as she turned back and winked at them.
Jack tucked his shirt in and walked out of the room. “Was that her redneck husband?”
“It sure was, and Jerry got his ass kicked holding him off,” Carol said.
Jack flexed his right arm. “The only ass kicking will be when I put one of these on her husband.”
Jack took his key ring off his belt and fumbled with the keys, looking for the one that opened his room and his medicine cabinet. Looking in his closet, he unlocked a small, wooden box; moved through the bottles; and found the special one he needed. He filled a syringe with the liquid, carefully put the protection cap on the needle and concealed it in his top pocket. Then he turned and looked into the bedroom mirror and whispered, “It’s time to take care of the big-mouth, old man.” He did a few pushups against the wall. His face became illuminated, and just that quickly, his expression turned evil. “Dr. Ross will get his donor tonight,” he chanted to himself.
Jack came out of his room to find three police officers standing at the nurses station. A nurse called them during the ruckus with Barry. Jack talked with the officers and assured them everything was fine, and Jerry would be filing no charges.
It was after ten p.m. and everything returned to normal. The people awakened by Barry’s outburst returned to their rooms and went back to sleep. Jack set himself up some snacks from the kitchen and settled in the recreation room in front of the big-screen TV. The order was given by Dr. Ross to make sure Zack understood the rules and no more outbursts from him in the dining room or any other place.
It was an assignment he had no problem following, and it had not been the first time. Jack preferred just to eliminate the problem. He enjoyed it. Recorded as another heart attack in a retirement home, who would expect foul play? The problem would go away, and Dr. Ross would get the organs he needed.
True Blue Detective Page 4
