Page 6 of Mission: Possible

"Sure!"

"I've come across something strange and I was hoping you could look into it."

"What do you mean?"

"I was speaking to the husband of one of my patients today. He was terribly upset about his wife's condition before he started to spill the strangest story, saying he thinks someone tried to murder her. Could you come by the hospital? Maybe just to talk to him? If nothing else, you might set his mind at rest. I just hate to see him so agitated."

I glanced at my watch. I had nothing else to do and Alice wouldn't have called if she weren't seriously worried. She was one of the best nurses I knew.

"Sure," I replied, "on my way."

Chapter Two

Alice might have been the sanest member of my extended family. She was pretty, athletic, dedicated to her job and she loved my middle brother, Daniel. They were raising two great kids. Currently working in the intensive care unit at Montgomery General, she said it was a nice change of pace from the ER since the patients were usually immobilized and quite often, unconscious too.

I found her seated alone at the nurse's station, sipping a coffee. She smiled as I approached her and stood, reaching over the divide to hug me. "Thank you so much for coming," she said. "I really couldn't think of anyone else to call."

"No problem at all," I assured her. "I'm not busy today and besides, it's not often you ask for my help. What can I do?"

"I'm not sure but perhaps you could speak to my patient's husband and try to give him some professional reassurance? If he's wrong about what he suspects, he might appreciate it. If he's right, he might need more serious help."

"You said he thought someone tried to kill his wife?"

Alice nodded. She set down the coffee, walked around the nurse's station and inclined her chin, indicating for me to follow her to the end of the corridor. "See the corner room? That's Sophie Takahashi. EMTs brought her into the ER a week ago after sustaining what I'm told was a nasty fall at her home. Apparently, they're in the process of renovating and Mrs. Takahashi took a tumble, crashing through the banister in the upstairs hallway and landing in a terribly bad position."

I winced. "Have you asked her if that's what really happened?"

"We can't. She hasn't regained consciousness. Her husband, Austen, says he fears she might have been targeted and attacked."

"Why haven't the police been notified?"

Alice shrugged. "After Mr. Takahashi — Austen — told me that earlier, I tracked down the EMTs who brought her in. They said they didn't see any signs of an attack, although they admitted they weren't looking for any clues. Their only concern was providing emergency treatment and getting her to the hospital as soon as possible but you can ask them yourself. I saw them earlier so I know they’re around. They did notice a broken section of the banister, which supports the accident theory. Austen said he took more time to think about it since that day, trying to clear up any discrepancies. They were right in the middle of the renovation, but no one was actually working on the balustrade, not just yet. Austen claims it wasn't loose or faulty and he can't think of any possible way she could have fallen through it."

"Who found her?" I asked.

"One of the guys on their work crew. He called 911. I don't know anymore than that."

"What's her prognosis?" I asked.

"I can't divulge too much because you're not a family member but I can tell you, right now, her odds of survival are fifty-fifty."

I looked inside the room where I could just see the end of the hospital bed and the outline of legs under the sheet. "You mean there's a chance she might not ever wake up?"

Alice nodded. "I'm afraid so. Now that he's had a few days to calm down and think about it more clearly, I fear that knowledge is what got Austen so riled up. He's right. If someone deliberately did this to her and she dies, it's an act of first degree murder."

"And what if she never wakes up but she also doesn't die?" I wondered.

"I'm not sure about the legal implications but somehow, it seems even worse to me. A living death."

"Can I talk to the husband?"

"Sure. He's in there, expecting you."

"What did you tell him?"

"Not much. Only that you're a private investigator and a good person to talk to about proving his suspicions. I think he just wants to hear he isn't really crazy."

"Why didn't you suggest he call the police?"