The Law of Nines

“The specialist in charge is Dr. Hoffmann. I was just wondering if you knew anything more about the fire. You know how unreliable the news can be. I haven’t been able to find out anything about Mr. Buckman. I don’t know if he’s all right or not. The news reports said that a number of patients died in the fire, most of them on the ninth floor. That’s where Mr. Buckman was confined.”

Alex shared a look with Jax. “I’m terribly sorry. My mother died in the fire at Mother of Roses. She was on the ninth floor.”

“Dear God.” He was silent for a moment. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. You have my deepest sympathy, Mr. Rahl.”

“Thank you.”

“I remember very well your mother not being able to take title to the land because she fell ill, but I had no idea that she was at Mother of Roses. What a strange coincidence that Mr. Buckman was at the same institution, and on the same floor.”

“Yes, that is quite the coincidence.”

Alex didn’t generally believe in coincidences. His mind raced as he tried to fit the pieces together.

“Have you tried contacting the authorities here in Nebraska to find out if Mr. Buckman might have been one of the people who escaped the blaze? I’ve heard that it was quite a chaotic scene but most of the patients did manage to escape.”

“I heard the same encouraging news. I’ve tried to get more information, but there seems to be quite a lot of confusion right now. Being a lawyer, I was able to get ahold of the state hospital authority, but no one can even find a patient register.”

“Are there other records?” Alex asked.

“I was told that the records at the hospital were destroyed in the fire. There were supposed to be backups of all the patient files kept off-site but there was apparently some kind of problem with the backup—they said it might have been a computer virus or something. No one knew about it until they went to retrieve the information and discovered that it was corrupted beyond recovery. So, the authorities there are in the dark even about how many people might have been under care at the facility. That makes it even more difficult to determine how many may have died.

“—Oh, I’m sorry. Here I am going on about Mr. Buckman and side issues when you lost your mother there. You probably need to get back to making arrangements.”

“No, it’s all right. There aren’t really any arrangements to be made. I don’t have any living relatives. My grandfather died a short while back. Being confined in a mental hospital all these years, my mother didn’t have any friends or really even know anyone. There’s actually nothing to be done. I will have to wait for any remains to be found—if they ever are. The fire was pretty intense. For now, there’s really nothing I can do.”

“I see. Are you headed here, then?”

Alex thought that he detected an odd tension in the question. “Yes. I will need to look into what flights are available. I’ll try to get the earliest flight we can going to Boston.”

“We? You have someone with you?”

“My fiancée.”

Another pause. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. You’ll get to meet her. She’s a wonderful person. She has been helping me get through the loss of my mother. Her name is Jax. She’s here with me now. I have you on speaker if you would like to say hello.”

Jax leaned in at Alex’s urging. “Hello, Mr. Fenton.”

“How do you do? I’m so sorry to hear of your unexpected trouble.”

“Thank you. We’re doing the best we can.”

“I look forward to meeting you soon, then.”

“We can’t get there fast enough,” Jax said.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I have a flight number,” Alex put in.

There was a long pause. “Mr. Rahl, I suggest that you not fly.”

Alex’s antennae went up. “Why is that?”

Again a pause. “Mr. Rahl, may I be honest with you?”

“I wish you would.”

“I fear that certain people may be watching the airlines, trying to find you.”

Alex’s blood went cold. “Certain people?”

“It’s possible that you could be in danger from these people. They might be expecting you to head here. They may be watching airports and bus stations—any kind of place you would go to take public transportation. I don’t mean to alarm you, Mr. Rahl, but I believe that these people could possibly be dangerous.”

“I think I know what you mean.”

Another pause, longer this time, as if the man was considering what to say, or maybe how much to say. “Have you been approached, or . . . threatened by anyone?”

“I think we’re talking about the same people. I’ve run into them already.”

“Are you all right?” he asked in a rush. There was genuine concern, even alarm, in his voice.

“Yes. Right now I think it best if I get there as soon as possible. I have your address—”

“No.”

“No?”

“Well, the thing is . . .” There was another pause before the man went on. “I fear that these same people might be watching my offices. I don’t really have any way to tell. I’m sorry—I don’t mean to alarm you unduly. It’s possible that I’m simply being paranoid.”