Chapter One Thousand Three Hundred Fifty-Five
11th January 1960
Portland, Oregon
As Gloria walked with Jane across the tarmac to the waiting airplane, they were hit by a gust of icy wind. Most of the time they had been in Portland it had been cold and rainy. Then it had cleared up and became absolutely frigid with wind blowing out of the East. It might be a clear, bright day but there wasn’t a whole lot of warmth in the watery sunlight. As they went up the stairs and found their seats Gloria thought about what she had been doing for the last few days.
From a legal standpoint, Gloria should not have had access to the Coroners report, but she had figured out ways to get around such things ages ago. Particularly in cases like this one where the Police had probably just wanted the case to go away. Beatrice Corwin had led a small, ordinary life and her death was of the sort that was all too common in America. A combination of alcohol and Diazepam had been what had killed her with the official cause of death listed as accidental overdose.
The autopsy had also revealed that Beatrice had been two to three months pregnant at the time of her death. That, when coupled with a husband who couldn’t keep it in his pants, five children at home a different picture emerged and the description of Beatrice telling anyone who would listen that she felt trapped and alone. At least from Gloria’s perspective, it might not have been an accident at all. The reaction she had observed among the Police Officers and the Doctor in the Emergency Room had certainly given her that impression. Like the previous times that Gloria had covered a story like this it had always come down a desire to save the family more grief, so it was hardly a surprise that the same things happened again and again. If you cannot even admit that there is a problem, how are you supposed to solve it?
At least she didn’t have to listen to hypocritical yammering about morality and values as a Doctor, who was almost always a man, tried to rationalize a woman dying of sepsis while under his care. Especially when he was a judgmental prick about how she might have gotten it. When the Countess had asked her to look into this, that had been what Gloria had been afraid she might find.
As the plane took off, Gloria bid farewell to soggy, stodgy, conservative Portland. All in the hope that she would never have to set foot in that city ever again.
12th January 1960
Tempelhof, Berlin
The word came over the intercom of the Hospital that all staff needed to report to their stations due to a mass casualty event that had just occurred. There were no other details that had been given.
“What am I supposed to do?” Kiki asked her Instructor who just looked annoyed with her. She didn’t have an assigned station in this sort of event.
“Go to Casualty, report to the Charge Nurse and do whatever you are told without asking questions” The Instructor said.
That seemed simple enough, but as Kiki tried to make her way down the corridors, she found that she was having get through bedlam. The harried Charge Nurse told Kiki to assist a middle-aged Doctor who blew his stack the instant he saw her. It seemed that he had asked for someone to assist him for what was coming their way and a young woman who was hardly more than a child was the last thing he needed. That was when Kiki heard the term industrial accident and that theirs wasn’t the only hospital that was on standby.
When the first patient was brought in, he looked like he had been beaten with a sledgehammer and his body was covered in chemical burns.
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“I know you did your best” Doctor Ott said, “But as I told you hours ago, I don’t think that you are well suited for this.”
They were sitting in the loading bay of the hospital after working for half the night. The cold winter air was refreshing after what had been going on inside. It had been a kaleidoscope of misery as they stabilized one patient only to have another take its place. Kiki had spent the entire time scrambling to get Doctor Ott whatever he needed.
“I did my best” Kiki said, “I’m still learning to be a medic.”
“You’re marginal at best” Ott said before taking another drag on his cigarette. “You have to have someone who is supervising your training. Mind telling me who that is?”
Kiki hesitated. She had no idea what she had done to earn this man’s hostility but was reluctant to lie about it. “I’m in the training program for field medics” Kiki said, “I have several instructors who you might be able to talk to.”
Ott gave her a cynical laugh. “Nice try” He said, though Kiki had not been trying to put one over on him. “It doesn’t matter, I can find that out on my own soon enough, Casualty is no place for little girls.”
With that Ott flicked his cigarette onto the pavement and went back into the hospital. It was a reminder that Kat had strongly advised her to never start smoking a few years earlier, a filthy habit was how she had termed it. It would only be a matter of time until Ott got ahold of Doctor Berg. Who knew what she would make of that?
