Take the Next Road on your Left (10)

Sparta General Hospital loomed into view as I turned the final corner from Erin Street. Apparently it was only a mile from the Hotel and well signposted, but I couldn’t see an H anywhere and quizzed the first pedestrian I encountered as I wended my way from the Excelsior. It wasn’t until I’d inconvenienced a third that I’d got some sort of garbled directions for the only hospital in the bloody town.
After a right and a left, another two rights and a left I was fucking lost, even though I swear I’d followed his instructions to the letter. It was if I’d met the guy that wrote the software for that mechanical fiend sitting on my dash.
I stopped two more listless souls who offered nothing but a shake of the head. So I meandered for another twenty minutes. The district looked affluent but deserted, considering it was only 7:30 on a sharp spring evening. I was having second thoughts "The first taxi I can grab I’ll take back to the hotel, after all she’s under guard so they won’t let me see her" Then all of a sudden there it was.
“Well I’ve made it this far” I muttered as a black cab trundled toward me. I gave the cabbie an ironic look and he accelerated. You’d have thought he'd be accustomed to weird bastards in this town.
I crossed the boulevard and jigged my way through the small non-conducive car park. It was packed with vehicles double parked and mounted on grass verges. Surely there must be a pathway somewhere but it was probably buried under thirty BMWs.
I could see the reception doors and took an undeviating course for the gap between a Vauxhall Corsa and a huge black Lexus, so narrow that only Peter Crouch could’ve got out of the Lexus without banging the Corsa. Mind you one good thump from the doors on that monster would’ve knocked the Vauxhall on its roof.
It was a beauty mind and the first time I’d really sidled up close to one. I peered in at the driver’s window but the smoked glass prevented me seeing anything other than my reflection. Then, in an instant, the electric window drew down and again I was looking at myself but this time mirrored in the darkest set of sunglasses I’d ever encountered.
I jumped back and thumped into the Corsa. The features the sunglasses were draped around were as sharp as a Stanley knife and I noticed a small scar running between the clef of his chin from the lower lip to the front of his jaw-line that appeared to have been the result of an attack by one. I couldn’t see his eyes but I knew that describing them as malevolent would have been an exercise in litotes.
“Sorry” The apology emanated between two quivering lips.
He said nothing but motioned me to approach him with the index finger of his right hand. I hesitated and then bent back down toward him, only to stop again as I noticed there were others in the car with him. They looked like four of Tolkien’s Wraith Kings. He beckoned again and I continued fearing disobedience wasn’t an option. As my head became level with his a lit cigarette was fired out of the car at my face, sparking off my cheekbone. The window slid back. . . .
I stood for a moment incensed, willing myself to react or at the very least boot his fucking motor and leg it. Perhaps they could read my thoughts because the window drew down an inch. That small act was the greatest example of intimidation I’d ever experienced in my thirty four years. I walked on, quickly.
Was there any more degradations awaiting me today or was that it? I stepped through the huge glass doors of the hospital knowing that if the entrance had been a rabbit hole I could’ve sauntered through without touching the sides.
I braced my knees back to stop them quivering but it just made meshiver all over uncontrollably.
"Are you okay my dear" the reception nurse enquired looking at me as if I were about to go cold turkey. I breathed long and hard desperate for some dignity and finally managed to utter a reply. “Yes..sorry...em..yes, a young lady was knocked down today and I'd like to know how she is please” I wanted to add that I believed she was under police guard but instinct held me back
“You’re related?” the Nurse enquired. She was solidly built, not fat, with arms as thick as concrete pillars and had quite a pretty face. The uniform clung to her muscular flanks like armour plate.
“No. I’m the one who knocked her down. I’m a salesman – Charlie Lucri”
She looked at me skew-whiff as if my liberty contradicted my confession.
“Actually she ran into me” I continued offering to resolve her bewilderment.
“Did she cause much damage?” the derision slavered on her tongue.
“It was an accident. Can you tell me – yes or no?”
“When was this?”
“Early afternoon at five to one”
“That’s very accurate. Were you examining your watch before the collision?”
“There was a large clock on the building facing me. I noticed that I was late”
“So you were speeding?”
For crying out loud, is every person a fucking detective in this town?
“A large clock you say, ah ha. Wait here” she ordered and walked into the room behind her desk and lifted up the phone. I wondered if there was a regulation in the planning laws of this country that every reception area must have an ante-chamber.
What the interpretation behind the ‘ah-ha’ was I had no idea and was beginning to care even less. Maybe sarcasm’s just a part of their culture. I was uncomfortable. I wanted to go. I gave her five minutes to return then I’d go. She came back in seven.
“You can’t see her” she informed me like an over zealous PA.
“How is she?”
She paused scrutinizing the veracity in my concern.
“I believe she’s comfortable”
“So she’ll pull through then?”
“I’ve told you – she’s…”
“Comfortable – yes - that’s all then is it?”
“I don’t have any bandages or plasters here that’s going to help make that guilt of yours better”
“She hit me, you know. She came out of nowhere”
“Then why did you visit?”
“I was lost”
“The birds eat your crumbs?”
“Sorry?”
“Poor Hansel; unable to find his way home”
I had a vague conception of the silly bitch’s verbal sidetrack.
“Perhaps Gretel could help you but I’m afraid she needs her rest”
“Could you call me a taxi?”
“You’re a taxi” came back the too obvious retort, but it wasn’t the nurse speaking - it was a voice I’d hoped I would never hear again.
“He’s not amused Tom”
“One of my stand-bys that one as well”
“Breaks the ice in interrogations”
“Puts the prisoner at ease”
“A human face…”
“On an inhuman task”
“Hello lads, nice to see you” It was the biggest lie of my life.
“What are we selling today Charlie” said Colin
“Just visiting” I answered.
“Plenty of potential victims in here” piped Tom.
“The vulnerable, terminally ill and non compos mentis”
“Won’t be too difficult to get them to sign up eh?”
“Fellas, come on – you’ve got me wrong. Only last week I delivered a huge cheque to a widower who lost his wife to cancer; I gave another a large endowment after cashing in their savings policy. Think of all the good I do. Some of those people would never have that sort of protection if I hadn’t given them a little push”
“So what does Adeona get?” enquired Tom
“What’s an Adeona?”
“An Adeona is the girl you ran over today” said Colin.
“I didn’t run her over!”
“So you’re here to pay out then” Tom was like a Rottweiler chewing on a Pomeranian.
“I’m here because…oh, I don’t know why. I’ll go”
Colin turned to Tom “Let him see her” he ordered.
Both Tom and the nurse looked askance. He becalmed her objection but it was the first hint I’d been given of a hierarchy between the boys.
We began walking to the lift.
“I don’t think…” Tom baulked but Colin countered.
“You can escort him”
“Thanks Colin” I said in gratitude.
“Inspector Tudor, and don’t thank me. I just think that for once in your career you should see the state you leave your victims in after stitching them up”