Do No Harm

The first bloody bullet fragment plunked down on the metal tray. Biting her lip, Diane eased the forceps back in the wound.

Ed's hand clenched into a fist, then released. "I'll bear that in mind," he said.

The curtains separating the five exam areas in Exam Fifteen rippled each time a gurney zipped by. After wheeling Ed behind the fourth curtain to get bandaged, his chart balanced across the bumps of his feet, David had been pulled into the next section, Fifteen-Three, by an imploring Persian mother to examine her little girl.

With a broad, smiling face and brown, almost liquid eyes, the girl ran circles in the small space between the curtains, singing, her jarring footsteps causing her voice to vacillate as if she were yodeling. She stopped, swaying on her feet, and laughed. Her mother drew her back against her legs, ruffling her hair, then wet a finger and wiped a smudge off the girl's cheek.

David removed his white coat so as not to intimidate the girl, and crouched so he was eye level. Meeting her on her own terms.

Following his cue, the little girl squatted also. David laughed. "No, hon, you don't have to crouch. I'm just trying to get a better look at you."

After an openmouthed burst of laughter, the little girl fell down and sat Indian-style. With one hand on the floor, David eased himself down so he too was sitting, his legs kicked awkwardly to the sides. The girl's mother covered her mouth to hide her smile. The girl laughed again and grabbed his hand with both of hers.

David slid the stethoscope from his shoulders and around his neck with a single practiced movement, spreading the branch with one hand and wiggling his head until the earplugs settled correctly. There was always some comfort in feeling the heavy instrument fall into place, like a well-worn wallet sliding into a back pocket. "I'm just going to-"

"Dr. Spier?"

David turned to see Officer Jenkins and another, older officer standing behind him. "This is a private exam area," David said, scrambling to his feet and feeling more than a little foolish. "Your sister has been moved to-"

"We received a call about a gunshot wound," Jenkins said.

"You did?" Beneath the curtain beside them, David saw Ed Pinkerton's feet hit the floor. "I don't recall calling one in."

"You didn't. We were contacted by triage. You know, you're required by law to-"

"I know, I know. Do you handle all calls involving the hospital?"

"You might say I've taken a particular interest."

"I can understand that."

The older officer, Jenkins's partner, stepped forward, and David noticed two stripes and a star on his sleeve. His name tag read: BRONNER. "We need to question the patient," Bronner said gruffly. "The one who sustained the GSW."

Ed's foot disappeared and came back down ensconced in an untied shoe.

"Why don't you follow me out to the CWA?" David said. "We'll check the board and see where he is." David crouched near the girl, and she followed his lead again, laughing. He smiled. "I'll be right back."

The officers followed him silently down Hallway One into the Central Work Area. David perused the board, finding Ed Pinkerton's name. "Fifteen-Four," he said. "Looks like he was one curtain over from us."

The cops exchanged a look, which David pretended not to notice. Another silent walk back to Exam Fifteen. David pointed to the curtain to the fourth exam area. "Behind there."

The curtain rattled on its pegs as Jenkins swiped it aside. An empty gurney. A single spot of blood stood out on the sheets. David feigned exasperation. "I don't know… I never discharged him. He must've snuck out on us." He turned to the officers, letting his hands slap to his sides. "I don't know what to tell you."

Jenkins clenched his jaw, speaking through his teeth. "This patient was one curtain over and you didn't know it?"

"There are a lot of patients here under my care. It's sometimes difficult to keep track of them all."

Jenkins held David's gaze. "Right."

"Sorry about that."

"Word around the station is you're not always the biggest team player."

"I guess that depends what team."

Bronner tapped Jenkins on the back. "This is a jerk-off," he said. "Let's go."

Jenkins didn't seem ready to leave.

"You know we don't give a shit about the GSW," Bronner said. "C'mon."

Jenkins took a step back. "I'll see you around, Doctor."

David nodded, and Jenkins followed his senior partner out. David realized he'd been holding his breath, and he exhaled deeply.

A slip of paper beneath the empty gurney caught David's attention, and he bent to pick it up. It was the bookmark he'd noticed earlier marking Ed's place in the small red book. A sketch of a brain, evidently a logo, decorated the top, the cerebral hemispheres slightly misshapen. AMOK BOOKSTORE was written beneath it in an odd Aztec print. David's eyes traced down the length of the bookmark, finding the strange motto at the bottom. THE EXTREMES OF INFORMATION.

He knew before he glanced beneath the turned-back sheets that Ed's chart was missing.

Chapter 10