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“Hello, Melanie.”

  Nurse McBride took Ettie’s temperature. “Ah, that’s normal.” Then she checked her blood pressure. “All looks good. It’s just those lungs of yours that need to clear.”

  "I’m feeling better, but I was lying awake all night worrying about Judith and how she died.”

  The nurse lowered her head and wrote some things on Ettie’s chart at the end of the bed.

  Ettie continued, "I mean, she seemed perfectly fine the day before, and then she was gone, just like that; here one moment and gone the next and for no good reason. That can't be normal can it, Melanie?"

  The nurse stopped what she was doing and hung the chart back on the end of Ettie’s bed. "Thing is, Ettie, it is normal. Or at least, sudden death isn't unusual."

  "What?" Ettie's heart rate quickened. "Do you mean in general, or in this place specifically?" Ettie knew she was taking a risk probing so far.

  The nurse looked over her shoulder at the door before sitting on the bed and facing Ettie. "Well, Ettie, you must realize that I shouldn't be talking about any of this, especially with a patient, so please don't repeat it. I probably said too much to you yesterday. I’ve mentioned to people higher up that I don’t think some things are right. Nothing has been done, and if I make an official complaint, I fear my job might be in jeopardy.”

  Ettie nodded trying to will her heart to stop racing. "Of course."

  "Well, this hospital, when compared to others I've worked in, has a high incident rate."

  "A what rate?"

  "I just mean that in this hospital more people over fifty die without apparent reason, than in other hospitals."

  Ettie moved uncomfortably. "But is that in people who were very ill when they arrived?”

  With her voice now a whisper the nurse said, "What I’m sure is that most of them came in with ailments that were not life threatening. That's the weird thing, and that’s why I'm whispering, Ettie. And it's why I can't say anything to anyone. I don't like to worry you, but if I were you, I'd find another hospital or go home."

  Ettie gulped, almost wishing she hadn't begun the conversation. "Thank you for being honest with me. I won't get you into any trouble."

  The nurse looked at the watch attached to her breast pocket. "Oh gee, I must get on. I have another twenty patients to see before doctor's rounds." Within minutes, she fluffed up Ettie’s pillow, filled her glass with water and made sure the emergency button and the telephone were within Ettie’s reach.

  “Are you warm enough; do you need an extra blanket?” the nurse asked.

  "No, no. You get on. I've held you up long enough. Thanks for our talk."

  "No problem, Ettie. Remember..." she placed a finger over her pursed lips. "Shh."

  “Just a minute,” Ettie called after her. The nurse spun around. “Do you suspect anyone in particular is doing this to these people.”

  The nurse looked over her shoulder, and as she came closer to Ettie, she whispered, “I can tell you that it always happens on the 8 p.m. to 3 a.m. shift.” With a lift of her eyebrows, she added, “Nurse Hadley is permanently on that shift – Deirdre Hadley.”

  Ettie stared at the young nurse for a moment before she disappeared. She had a name, Deirdre Hadley. It would have pulled more weight with Crowley if she had sent Maureen to him with a name.

  * * *

  Tired from having to work longer than she expected the day before, Maureen made her way to Crowley’s office. She hoped Ettie would not be too angry with her for not going to see Crowley the previous day.

  “Come in.” As usual Crowley’s tone impatient.

  Maureen knew his curt tone was not a reflection of his current mood; it was simply the way in which he always spoke. When she walked through the door, Maureen noticed that his face lighted up.

  “Maureen, it’s nice to see you. Have you brought any of your cakes for me?”

  Maureen laughed. “I would have, but I had a double shift yesterday, and Ettie wanted me to speak to you as soon as possible. She’s still in the hospital.”

  “I didn’t realize she was that ill. Last time I saw her she did have a bad cough.”

  “She’s got pneumonia, and that’s not all.” Maureen sat in the chair opposite him. “The night before last, the lady in the next bed to her died, and Ettie thinks that it was not from natural causes.”

  “Go on.” Crowley leaned forward.

  “Ettie remembers waking in the night to see a nurse give the lady an injection. She was only in to have her blood pressure monitored. Ettie knows that she never had an injection on any of the other nights that she was in the hospital.”

  “Does Ettie know of any reason anyone would want the woman dead?”

  Maureen shook her head. “No, but she had a talk to one of the nurses which confirmed her suspicions. The nurse said that there have been deaths that were unexplained and unexpected.”

  “Interesting; I’ll check into it.” Crowley opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out a notepad.

  “Ettie was thinking that you could see if they’ve been any complaints against the hospital, any lawsuits filed or the likes.”

  “I’ll look into things. I’ll go and see Ettie myself later today.”

  “I’m worried about her; do you think she’s in any danger? She was going to have Bailey stay with her last night.”

  Crowley nodded. “Good idea. She probably shouldn’t be alone at night under the circumstances.”

  Maureen raised her eyebrows and repeated, “Do you think she’s in danger then?”

  Crowley laced his fingers together in front of him. “I couldn’t say for sure.”

  “She won’t leave. She’d rather put herself in danger to find out the truth.”

  “Yes, she would. She’d be keen to get to the bottom of things. Is that all you know, Maureen?”

  Maureen nodded. “I’ll bring cakes in next time I come.”

  “Can I drive you home?”

  “No. I came in the buggy.” Maureen rose to her feet. “Thank you, Detective.”

  “Before you go, can you give me that name of the patient who died?”

  Maureen sat down again and was silent for a while. “No, I don’t think that Ettie told me her name.”

  “Very good.”

  They were interrupted by Bailey poking his head around the door. “Maureen you’re here. I thought that was your buggy I saw outside.”

  “Rivers.” Detective Crowley said.

  Bailey came further through the doorway. “Ettie was worried that she hadn’t heard from you, Crowley.”

  “I’ve just learned of it.”

  Maureen stood up and said to Bailey, “I had to work an unexpected double shift last night, so it was too late when I finished at twelve o’clock midnight. I’ve just told detective Crowley everything now.”

  Bailey breathed out heavily. “Well, if you’ve got it all in hand, I don’t need to be involved. Ettie seems to be concerned about the lady in the next bed dying. I’ll stay with her every night until she leaves the place.”

  “That’s good of you, Bailey,” Maureen said.

  Bailey and Maureen walked out of Crowley’s office together.

  Chapter 6.

  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything,

  by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving,

  present your requests to God.

  Phillipians 4:6

  Later that day, Crowley strolled into Ettie’s hospital room with flowers and a smile. "Hello, Ettie. I hope you're feeling better."

  Elsa-May had gone for a wander to stretch her legs. Ettie was just in the beginning stages of dozing off when she heard Crowley’s voice. "Crowley, you came.” Ettie pushed herself up further onto her pillows. “I'm much improved, thank you very much. All the better for seeing you though, I can tell you."

  Her heart pounded hoping he had news. She needed his support on her theories; otherwise it would be too late to investigate Judith’s death. "Would you shut the door before you sit? I don’t
want anyone to hear a word."

  He raised his eyebrows, and the corners of his mouth twitched. He closed the door, then pulled up a chair and sat and leaned himself toward her.

  "Maureen’s been to see you?” Ettie asked.

  "She came to visit me this morning early. Although she mentioned a few things, I'd rather hear them directly from you. If there was any truth in what she told me, you'd be a witness."

  Ettie was groggy, and her head was muddled. She hoped she could explain the events clearly and concisely to Crowley. "Well, seems that Judith Morcombe came in for a routine stay, she had nothing much wrong with her. She even told me that they said she could go home and she couldn’t wait to see her cats. I woke in the night and saw her getting an injection—an injection for what? The next time I open my eyes in the morning, she's dead. From what did she die? What was in that injection and who administered it? Is there any note about it on her chart? There are so many unanswered questions, Crowley; wouldn't you agree? I can’t find these things out by myself, but perhaps you can.”

  Crowley tilted his head as one might to a child. She knew she had not spoken eloquently. The words she spoke to him were tumbled and jumbled as they spilled too quickly out of her mouth. From the stony look on his face, Ettie knew that Crowley did not think there was anything suspicious in what had happened. It was all too easy to forget that people saw her as the old woman she was even though her mind was as sharp as ever.

  "I agree that it all sounds suspect when seen through your eyes, Ettie. There are various avenues through which complaints against hospitals are registered. I’ve checked, and nothing unusual has been reported; certainly nothing of concern.”

  "Who should make the report, someone from here? If so maybe they were in on it; they wouldn't report themselves, would they? Have any independent investigators actually come here and checked? Will anyone look into Judith's death, for example? You know her son's been talked out of having a post-mortem. They told him it wasn’t necessary under the circumstances. To what circumstances were they referring? Surely that's suspect even to you, Detective Crowley."

  “When a complaint is registered they will send someone into the hospital, but a complaint hasn’t been made. Do you want to lodge a complaint?”

  Ettie pushed her lips together firmly. She knew she would sound crazy and not be taken seriously if she said she saw a nurse give an injection in the middle of the night.

  She avoided looking at Crowley, but heard his voice in the background saying, “There are many places people can go to who want to make a complaint. There’s the Pennsylvania Department of Health who licenses all the hospitals in Pennsylvania. The hospitals need to meet regulations and certain standards of care. There were a few minor complaints about this hospital, but nothing of what you’re describing or anything close. Anyone who complains can request their name not be given to the hospital; I checked into that. If anyone had a suspicion such as you do, they’re quite within their rights to lodge a complaint. It’s when an official complaint is made that they will come into the hospital and inspect the hospital records and ask questions.”

  Detective Crowley had always been helpful to her and Elsa-May in the past, but apparently not this time. Was it because Judith Morcombe was old and people think that there’s nothing too unusual or upsetting when an old person dies? "Won't you even consider for a moment that I'm right? What if Judith was murdered, and she wasn't the first? What if she isn't going to be the last?"

  “I have considered it, Ettie. I’ve given it careful thought, and I’ve made quite a number of calls. In my opinion, I don’t see that there was anything unusual or anything that would lead me to think I have the right to question that woman’s death or any other death in this hospital.”

  She knew she had to find a way to change his mind. If not change his mind she would have him investigate for another reason – any reason. “Crowley, you disappoint me. You’ve always helped us in the past, and this time should be no different.”

  “I know you’re disappointed, Ettie, but I have to follow protocol. I don’t know what else I can do. What would you have me do?”

  Ettie threw her hands in the air. “Ask questions of staff in the hospital.”

  Crowley shook his head. “I’ve no grounds.”

  “I spoke to one of the nurses this morning and she thinks that people die suspiciously in this place. She said it always happens on the 8 p.m. to 3 a.m. shift, and she even gave me the name of the person she suspects – a nurse.”

  “On what grounds does she suspect this nurse? Is she prepared to come forward and make an official complaint and go through the proper channels rather than spread rumors?”

  Ettie thought back to her conversation with the young nurse. She had not witnessed anything, and neither was she prepared to come forward. “She said that she wanted to be kept out of it.”

  “More than likely she’s spreading a rumor.” A smile twigged at the corners of Crowley’s mouth. “We Englischers call things like that an urban myth.”

  Ettie closed her eyes. She thought she had done well to get so much information from nurse McBride, but was it all for nothing? What would she do if Crowley continued to refuse his help? Who would help if Crowley wouldn’t? “The nurse gave me the name of Hadley. The suspect nurse’s last name is Hadley; first name is Deirdre. Can you at least check into her background?”

  “When Maureen came in and told me about this matter I thought there might be something in what she told me. I spent all morning doing research on the hospital and came up with absolutely nothing. For you, Ettie, I will look into this nurse, but I’m afraid I will be wasting my time.”

  A smile reached Ettie’s lips; she had been successful in coaxing Crowley to look further into things. “Thank you, Detective. Now, I’m afraid I need to have a little sleep. This conversation has tired me out.”

  He stood awkwardly and tilted his head again. "I'm sorry about your friend. I will look into it as soon as I get back to the office. I know that you and Elsa-May have never been wrong about anything in the past, but I must have grounds to ask those types of questions. You do understand, don’t you?”

  “Detective Crowley, things like that have not stopped you in the past. You think I’m a silly old lady; I am certain of that.”

  Crowley stood square on to Ettie and placed his hands on his hips. “Never. I’ve never thought that you were anything close to silly.” Crowley dropped his gaze and said. “Leave it with me. I could always say that I’m asking questions in connection with another matter.”

  “Yes, good.” Ettie leaned forward too fast and her lungs wheezed badly.

  “Water?”

  Ettie nodded quite unsure why people offered her water every time her lungs wheezed. After she sipped the water and handed the glass back to Crowley, she said, “I will appreciate anything you can do. It must be done quickly. Judith’s son’s name is Milton Morcombe; I’m not sure where he lives, but he must live somewhere nearby. He came to visit his mother nearly every day while she was in the hospital.

  “I’ll have a talk to him if that will make you happy. How do you spell Morcombe?” Crowley pulled a small note pad and pen out of his inside, jacket pocket.

  Pointing to the other side of the room, Ettie said, “See if it’s still written above the bed.”

  Crowley leaned over. “Ah, yes. It’s been rubbed out, but I can just make it out.” He jotted the name down on his pad.

  "I may be old, Detective Crowley, but I still have all my faculties.” Ettie tapped a long, bony finger to her head.

  “No doubt, but I’ve got superiors; I can’t be seen to go outside my parameters too far too often.” He stuffed the pad and pen back into his pocket. “Enjoy the flowers.”

  Ettie smiled at him. “Thank you for visiting me and for helping me once again.”

  Crowley leaned a little closer. “Ettie, I need you to keep your eyes and ears open. Let me know if you find out anything else. I understand that Bailey is going to s
tay with you every night?”

  “That’s right. So, you do think that there might be some truth in what I’ve said?”

  “Like I said, you ladies have been right in the past.” Crowley smiled and left Ettie alone in the room.

  She was thankful of his visit but wondered why he seemed reluctant to help at first. It must have helped to have Deirdre Hadley’s name.

  Chapter 7.

  And he said unto me,

  My grace is sufficient for thee:

  for my strength is made perfect in weakness.

  Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities,

  that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

  2 Corinthians 12:9

  In the afternoon, Elsa-May went home at Ettie’s insistence, but Bailey came back to the hospital to visit her.

  “What are you doing back here, Bailey? You should be home with Silvie. You can stay tonight again, can’t you?”

  Bailey nodded. “I’ve come to see if you need anything. I met Maureen this morning, in Crowley’s office.”

  “Jah I know. Crowley’s come to see me; he left not long ago.” Ettie's chest felt tight, and her head boomed. "Ach, Bailey, would you mind opening the window an inch? It's very hot in here, don't you think?"

  "Nee, not at all. But you do look flushed, Ettie; should I fetch someone?"

  "Nee," she snapped, then felt she'd overreacted. "Sorry, I just..." Ettie panicked at the idea of bringing herself to the attention of the possible murderer. But then again, it wasn’t between 8 p.m. and 3 a.m., she might be safe.

  Bailey turned from the window he’d just opened and frowned. "Whatever is wrong?"

  "Nothing. Everything. It's just this place."

  Bailey sat down on the edge of Ettie’s bed. "I'm not only your nephew, you’ve become a dear friend to me; I know you're holding back on me. Tell me what's wrong. It isn't your health is it? What did the doctor say? I hope you aren’t getting worse.”

  "Nee, I'm mending just fine. It's just that..." Ettie didn't know where to begin and couldn't help herself; the stress of it all finally got to her as she felt she might cry. "Ach, Bailey, I didn’t want to drag you into another investigation; I know you want to keep out of those types of things.”