Foreign Body

by Robin Cook

  “I believe you are ill-advised not to take this special opportunity. There will be no cost. We are doing this as a favor to you and your grandmother.”

  “As I said, I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. I appreciate efforts on my behalf, but I would have preferred an autopsy. The answer is no.”

  “Then I must inform you that the Queen Victoria Hospital has gone to the courts, and we imminently expect, around noon tomorrow, a writ of authority from a magistrate to remove, send to Varanasi, and cremate your grandmother, Mr. Benfatti, and Mr. Lucas. I am sorry that you have pushed us to this extent, but your grandmother’s body, as well as those of the others, is a threat to the institutions’ well-being.”

  Jennifer’s head rebounded slightly with the force of the disconnect. She handed the phone back to Sumit and thanked him. To Neil she said, “She hung up on me. They are going to get legal permission to remove Granny tomorrow and have her cremated.”

  “Then it’s a good thing your friends are coming in tonight.”

  “You can say that again. If I were here on my own, I have no clue what I’d do.”

  “Then it’s a good thing. . . .” Neil said, teasing Jennifer by actually repeating his comment the second time as she’d rhetorically asked him to do.

  “That’s quite enough!” she said with a suppressed laugh, giving his arm a shake with both hands.

  “Why don’t we head up to our rooms and change into some exercise clothes.”

  “That’s your best suggestion so far,” Jennifer said, and they both headed for the elevators.

  Chapter 27

  OCTOBER 18, 2007

  THURSDAY, 2:17 P.M.

  NEW DELHI, INDIA

  Inspector Naresh Prasad entered the health ministry building and noted the difference between it and the one that housed the New Delhi police department. Whereas peeling paint and a certain amount of trash were the norm in his building, the health ministry was comparatively clean. Even the security equipment was new, and the people manning it seemed somewhat motivated. As usual, he had to leave his service revolver at the entrance.

  Exiting on the second floor, Naresh walked down the long, echoing hall to where he knew the relatively new medical tourism office was. He entered without knocking. The contrast between his office and Ramesh Srivastava’s was even greater than that between their respective buildings. Ramesh’s offices were freshly painted and had new furniture. The fact that Ramesh was part of a significantly higher level of civil bureaucracy was apparent in most everything, including the equipment on the secretaries’ desks.

  As he fully expected, Naresh had to wait for a certain amount of time. It was part of the mechanism bureaucrats used to exert their superiority over colleagues, even if they were available. But Naresh didn’t mind. He expected it. Besides, there was a waiting area with a new couch, a rug, and magazines, even if the reading material was outdated.

  “Mr. Srivastava can see you now,” one of the secretaries said fifteen minutes later, pointing the way toward her boss’s door.

  Naresh heaved himself to his feet. A few seconds later, he was standing in front of Ramesh’s desk. Ramesh didn’t invite him to sit down. The man had his fingers intertwined, elbows on his desk. His watery eyes regarded Naresh irritably. It was obvious there was to be no small talk on this occasion.

  “You said on the phone you wanted to see me because there was a problem,” Ramesh said sulkily. “What’s the problem?”

  “I got on Miss Hernandez first thing this morning. I didn’t get there early enough to tail her to breakfast at the Imperial, so I don’t know whom she met there. But right after that, not too much after nine, she came back to the Amal and then took a hotel car, apparently to go sightseeing.”

  “Do I have to hear all this?” Ramesh complained.

  “If you want to know how the problem happened,” Naresh said.

  Ramesh made a rotating motion with his index finger for Naresh to continue.

  “She stopped briefly at the Red Fort, but it didn’t appeal to her. Next she went to the bazaar, parked at the Jama Masjid, and hired a cycle rickshaw.”

  “Can’t you just tell me the problem?” Ramesh complained again.

  “It was at that moment that I came into the parking area just after someone in a new E-Class Mercedes. I vaguely noticed him because he’d been tailing her as well from the Red Fort.”

  Ramesh rolled his eyes at Naresh’s lengthy rendition.

  “He took off after Miss Hernandez, which I thought curious, so I redoubled my efforts and ran after both. From then on everything happened in the blink of an eye. He didn’t hesitate. He ran up behind Miss Hernandez and pulled a gun. It was right in the middle of the crowded bazaar, with people all around. He was going to shoot, no questions asked. I had two seconds to decide whether to intervene. All I could hear was your telling me not to let her become a martyr. Well, that’s what she was about to become, so I shot and killed the would-be killer.”

  Ramesh’s mouth slowly dropped open. Then he slapped a hand across his forehead and leaned on his elbow while he shook his head in short arcs. “No!” he cried.

  Naresh shrugged. “It all happened so fast.” Naresh reached into his pocket and took out a piece of paper. On it was written Dhaval Narang. He placed it on the desk in front of Ramesh.

  Without removing his head from his hand, Ramesh reached out and picked up the paper. He read the name. “Do you know who this guy is?” Ramesh blurted. He raised his eyes and looked irritably at Naresh.

  “I do now. It is Dhaval Narang.”

  “That’s right. It is Dhaval Narang, and do you know whom he works for?”

  Naresh shook his head.

  “He works for Shashank Malhotra, you bungling idiot. Malhotra was getting rid of the girl. It would have been ascribed to thieves. The martyr issue is only if we, the Indian civil services, killed her, not Malhotra.”

  “What should I have done? I was trying to follow your orders. Why didn’t you tell me Malhotra was going to take care of her?”

  “Because I didn’t know. At least I didn’t know for sure.” Ramesh rubbed his face vigorously. “Clearly, now everything’s worse. Now she’s warned she’s been targeted. Where is she?”

  “She went back to her hotel.”

  “What happened at the site?”

  “The shot caused a general panic. She fled with everyone else. I stayed at the site to help the local constables restore order and get the victim’s ID.”

  “Did she come back and talk to the police and to you?”

  “She came back and was accompanied by an American man. I don’t know where or how they teamed up. But she didn’t talk to the police, which is somewhat strange. I thought about pulling her in, but I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “That just shows how suspicious she is.”

  “Maybe she will just leave after such an experience?”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice, but not according to her grandmother’s case manager or the CEO of the hospital. For whatever reason, this young woman is motivated no matter what happens.”

  “Well, what do you want me to do?”

  “Have you had any luck in regard to finding out who is the source providing the material to CNN?”

  “I put two people on it this morning. I haven’t spoken with them since.”

  “Give them a call while I call Shashank Malhotra. Also, there was another death but at the Aesculapian Medical Center. Once again, CNN got it extremely early.”

  Ramesh picked up his phone. He was not looking forward to talking with Shashank Malhotra. Despite what he said to Naresh, Ramesh knew that he was ultimately responsible for Dhaval Narang’s demise. As Naresh said, he should have been informed.

  “I hope you are calling me up to thank me for solving your problem,” Shashank said when he came on the line. His tone was neutral. It wasn’t as cheerful as it had been the day before, nor as menacing.

  “I’m afraid not. I’m afraid there’s an additional proble
m and an extension of the old one.”

  “What?” Shashank demanded.

  “First, Miss Hernandez has talked the spouse of the third patient into wanting an autopsy. And second, Dhaval Narang was shot and killed this morning in the Old Delhi bazaar.”

  “You’re not serious?”

  “Did you send him to talk to the Hernandez woman, to get her to leave India?” Naresh asked.

  “He’s truly dead?” Shashank questioned, with anger and disbelief.

  “I have it from a good source.”

  “How could this have happened? He was a professional. He was no amateur.”

  “People make mistakes.”

  “Not Dhaval,” Shashank growled. “He was the best. Listen, I want this woman taken care of.”

  “We feel similarly, but she’s now been alerted that someone wants her dead. I think we better handle this problem from this end.”

  “You’d better!” Shashank groused. “I don’t want you to have to start looking over your shoulder to and from work.” With that said, he hung up.

  Ramesh dropped the phone back into its cradle. He looked up at Naresh, who’d finished his call as well.

  “Nothing yet,” Naresh said. “But they’ve barely begun the investigation. It’s not going to be easy. There are lots of private academic doctors who have admitting privileges at other nonacademic private hospitals, and most have admitting privileges at more than one. It’s more for convenience’s sake for the patients in terms of location, and they apparently don’t admit that many, as they are not supposed to have private patients.”

  “Your people are going to continue to work on it, I presume?”

  “Very much so. What do you want me to do?”

  “Keep tabs on the Hernandez woman. Supposedly, a friend is coming tonight who is a forensic pathologist. Remember, there are to be no autopsies. Luckily, in this situation, we have the law on our side.”

  Chapter 28

  OCTOBER 18, 2007

  THURSDAY, 4:32 P.M.

  NEW DELHI, INDIA

  Cal had his legs crossed and his feet on the corner of the library table. Santana had gotten him a bunch of articles about medical tourism that had been springing up in the U.S. newspapers. They had all picked up on the three CNN segments about the New Delhi deaths, and on the three networks’ evening news broadcasts. People were eating it up. Cal’s favorites were those laced with personal stories of people canceling scheduled trips, mostly to India but also to Thailand.

  With everything suddenly going so well, Cal should have been ecstatic, but he wasn’t. Like a toothache, the issue involving the Hernandez woman had been bothering him all day. Early that morning, he’d called back the anesthesiologist and the pathologist, and again had gone over the hypothetical scenario involving succinylcholine. If the two doctors had been at all suspicious, they didn’t show it in the slightest, and in certain respects competed with each other in making certain the diabolical scheme was foolproof.

  When he had hung up from the conference call, he’d felt reassured. Unfortunately, it hadn’t lasted, and the issue had slowly wormed its way back into his consciousness. What could it have been that the pesky medical student had come across that had initiated her suspicions? Even after the Hernandez woman’s departure, there were bound to be others who’d be just as curious and stumble on the same mysterious and potentially fatal flaw.

  “Hey, man!” Durell called out from the library doorway.

  Cal waved. “What’s up?”

  “You want to come out and take a look at the organization’s new ride?”

  “Why not,” he said. He let his feet fall to the floor with a plop and stood up.

  The front door to the mansion then slammed shut.

  “Can we hold off just for a few minutes?” Cal asked. “If that’s Veena and Samira, I’d like to get a debriefing. I’ve been worrying over that Hernandez chick all day, ever since you rightly said we should find out what made her suspicious. I imagine it has something to do with her being a medical student, but I cannot for the life of me figure out what it could be. I even called the two doctors we’ve originally consulted in Charlotte, North Carolina. As far as I can figure out, we’ve thought of everything.”

  “I’m for finding out,” Durell admitted. “Otherwise, it’s going to be a constant worry, you know what I’m saying?”

  “I know what you’re saying,” Cal agreed, as Veena, Samira, and Raj came into the library. They were in a good mood, singing a song they all knew from childhood. Samira broke off and went up to Durell for a hug and a real kiss. Veena went to Cal but availed herself of only a French-style peck on each cheek.

  Raj literally threw himself laughing onto the couch as he finished the last refrain of the childhood ditty.

  “You guys are happy,” Cal commented, with the suggestion he wasn’t.

  “It was an easy day for all of us,” Veena said. “Raj was the only one assigned a patient, and he was just a hernia repair. Samira and I had to look for things to do.”

  “How come?”

  Veena and Samira looked at each other. “We’re not sure. Maybe a few cancellations. Maybe Nurses International is doing too good a job.” They laughed.

  “Wouldn’t that be ironic,” Cal said. “Anyway, what’s the status with the Hernandez woman? Any feedback today?”

  “I was free around two-thirty,” Veena said, “so I went down to talk to the case manager. I asked her about Maria Hernandez’s body and whether it had been taken care of. She cackled mockingly and said, ‘Of course not.’ Apparently, they had gone to the extent of offering to have the body taken to Varanasi to have it cremated on the banks of the Ganges, but the granddaughter turned it down, so they are completely frustrated. Tomorrow the medical examiner friend is coming to the hospital, which shouldn’t make the slightest difference because they absolutely refuse to do an autopsy. But there’s clear sailing in sight. The case manager told me they are getting a writ tomorrow from a magistrate to remove and cremate the body. So it should be over tomorrow sometime.”

  “Same for Benfatti,” Samira said.

  “Same for David Lucas,” Raj said. “The magistrate writ is to cover all three bodies.”

  “You all haven’t been inquiring about your bodies, have you?” Cal asked, with mild alarm.

  “Yes, we have,” Samira said. “Is that a problem? We will all feel better when the bodies are gone.”

  “Please, no more! Don’t call any attention to yourselves by asking specifically about the bodies.”

  All three shrugged. “We didn’t think we were causing undue attention,” Samira said. “The situation is general hospital gossip. It’s not as if we are the only ones talking about it.”

  “Do me a favor and don’t participate,” Cal said.

  “My patient’s death certificate was signed today,” Raj said. “But still the wife wants an autopsy on the advice of Jennifer Hernandez.”

  “What was the official cause of death?” Cal asked.

  “Heart attack,” Raj said. “Heart attack with emboli and stroke.”

  “With all three bodies still around,” Cal said, “maybe we should put off doing any more patients for a few days.”

  Veena sat up straight from where she’d collapsed into a leather club chair. “I agree wholeheartedly. No more deaths until all this chaos caused by Jennifer Hernandez is cleared up.”

  “Someone should let Petra know,” Cal said. “One of her nurses called in today to say she had a good candidate.”

  Veena bounded out of the chair. “I’ll do it. I didn’t even think we should have done one last night.” Without waiting for a response, she left the room.

  Raj got up from the couch. “I think I’ll take a shower,” he said.

  “Likewise,” Samira said. She gave Durell a final hug and followed Raj out of the room.

  Cal glanced at Durell. “Let’s see those wheels,” he said.

  “You got it,” Durell responded.

  “I’m thinkin
g we should do something proactive about this Jennifer Hernandez,” Cal said, as they passed out of the library and headed toward the front door.

  “I told you, if we don’t find out what has made her suspicious, we’re always going to feel like we have our dicks hanging out. Someone else is going to see it and call us on it.”

  “That’s exactly what has me worried. It’s a bummer it has to be now, just when everything else is going so smoothly.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Durell asked. He opened the mansion’s front door and held it for Cal.

  “I thought I’d call Sachin, Mr. Motorcycle Jacket. He handled Veena’s father perfectly. I thought of him because he called me yesterday to say he checked on Basant Chandra Wednesday and the guy panicked. He doesn’t think he has to see him again for a couple of weeks. I think he could handle Jennifer Hernandez with ease. It’s a much more simple job.”

  “What would you have him do?”

  “Snatch her and bring her here. We can lock her in that room under the garage until she talks.”

  “Then what?” Durell asked. He was standing next to a burgundy Toyota Land Cruiser. It has seen some miles and had its share of dents, but the wear and tear only seemed to give it character.

  Cal put his right hand lightly on the vehicle’s metallic surface and walked a complete circuit around it, letting his fingers trail along. He then opened the driver’s-side door and glanced inside. The interior was equally worn.

  “I like it,” Cal said. “How does it run?”

  “Just fine. It’s been a workhorse for an architectural firm.”

  “Perfect,” Cal said. He shut the door firmly, and there was a reassuring click.

  “So what will you do with Hernandez after you learn what you want her to tell us?”

  “Nothing. I’d just pay Sachin to have her disappear. I don’t really want to know where, but my guess is that she’d end up somewhere at the bottom of the landfill.”

  Durell nodded. He wondered how many people had already disappeared there. It was so convenient.

  “Hey, man! I love the car,” Cal said, his spirits rising. He gave one of the front tires a kick. “If we need it, it will be perfect. Good job.”