Chương 3
Security personnel appeared. An administrator in a navy suit came down from an upper floor. Two Chicago police officers arrived because the paramedics had reported suspected poisoning. Someone closed the ambulance bay to other traffic for six minutes, which made the silver-haired paramedic curse under her breath.
Celeste stayed beside the evidence.
A resident asked whether Elias used recreational drugs.
Elias lifted the oxygen mask. “Only during budget meetings.”
The resident looked uncertain.
Celeste said, “He’s joking.”
“I wasn’t,” Elias murmured.
His attempt at humor cost him. His face tightened, and a tremor moved through his left arm.
The attending physician ordered toxicology tests, cardiac monitoring, metabolic panels, and treatment for the seizure and possible poisoning. He asked Celeste to repeat the history twice. The second time, Gabriel answered several questions before she could.
Elias took no illegal drugs.
Elias drank rarely.
Elias had not traveled recently.
Elias had been evaluated by three specialists.
Elias’s medications were prepared by Dr. Adrian Neri, the family physician.
“Where is Dr. Neri?” Celeste asked.
Gabriel looked at his phone. “On his way.”
“Who called him?”
“I did.”
Elias opened his eyes.
Gabriel noticed and smiled gently. “He has treated you for twelve years.”
“That’s the problem,” Elias said.
It was the first open fracture between them.
Gabriel’s smile faded. “You don’t believe Adrian did this.”
“I don’t believe anyone yet.”
The attending physician asked all nonmedical visitors to leave. Gabriel objected until Elias told him to go.
Celeste remained because Elias named her as his medical representative.
That surprised her.
It surprised Gabriel more.
“You signed authority to me,” Gabriel said.
“For business decisions.”
“Your medical directive—”
“Was changed.”
“When?”
Elias looked at Celeste. “Nine weeks ago.”
She had witnessed the document but had not known whom it replaced.
Gabriel’s face remained composed. Only his thumb moved, rubbing once across the edge of his phone.
Then he nodded.
“All right,” he said. “We’ll discuss it when you’re stable.”
The words sounded caring. The threat sat beneath them, quiet and well dressed.
After he left, Celeste leaned over the bed. “Why did you change it?”
“Because you asked why all my blood tests went through Neri’s private lab.”
“That wasn’t proof of anything.”
“It was more curiosity than anyone in my family had shown.”
“That is a terrible reason to give someone medical authority.”
“I’ve made worse decisions.”
“I’m beginning to understand how you became successful.”
His eyelids lowered. “You disapprove of me.”
“I’ve met some of your employees.”
“Most people disapprove quietly.”
“Most people are paid more.”
His mouth twitched, then flattened as another wave of pain moved through him.
The hospital police officer returned with an evidence technician. The bags were transferred, logged, and carried away. Celeste photographed every signature and case number in her notebook.
An hour later, Dr. Adrian Neri arrived.
He was a narrow man in his late fifties with silver at his temples and a scarf tucked neatly inside his wool coat. He entered with the mild irritation of a physician interrupted during dinner rather than midnight.
He greeted Elias by placing two fingers on his wrist.
Elias moved his arm away.
Neri looked at Celeste. “What happened?”
“He convulsed.”
“Elias has had muscle spasms before.”
“Not like this.”
“You have extensive experience with toxic seizures?”
“I have experience recognizing when a patient needs more than reassurance.”
Neri smiled without warmth. “Celeste was an excellent nurse, before circumstances changed.”
The attending physician glanced between them. “You worked together?”
“Briefly,” Neri said.
Celeste felt the old hospital corridor return in the smell of antiseptic and burnt coffee. Adrian Neri had served on the professional review committee that examined the missing medication incident. He had not accused her directly. He had asked precise questions in a gentle voice and then signed a report saying her documentation practices were inconsistent.
She had not known he was Elias’s physician when she accepted the private nursing position. His name had been absent from the employment paperwork. By the time she learned the truth, she needed the money and had told herself that coincidence was not guilt.
Neri’s eyes rested on the black notebook in her hand.
“You still write everything down.”
“You still dislike that.”
The attending physician cleared his throat. “We’re testing the unidentified vial and food sample. Until then, we’re treating this as possible toxic exposure.”
Neri’s gaze sharpened. “Unidentified vial?”
Celeste watched him carefully.
His surprise looked real.
That did not make him innocent.
“The one beside the dinner tray,” she said.
Neri looked at Elias. “Your evening medication was delivered in a labeled blister pack.”
“It wasn’t there,” Celeste said.
“Who prepared the tray?”
“The kitchen,” Elias answered.
Neri pulled out his phone. “Then we need the household medication records.”
“No,” Elias said.
Neri paused.
“No one at the house gets warned before we know what happened.”
“Elias, if there was a dispensing error—”
“There wasn’t.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I know errors don’t usually remove their own labels.”
The room quieted.
Neri looked older under the fluorescent lights. For the first time, Celeste saw something beneath his professional calm. Not fear. Recognition, perhaps. Or the realization that the sick man he had managed for months had begun asking different questions.
Neri stepped back from the bed. “I’ll cooperate with whatever the hospital requires.”
“You’ll remain here,” Elias said.
“I’m not under arrest.”
“No. You’re my doctor.”
Neri’s mouth tightened. “For the moment.”
He left the room.
Celeste watched the door close.
“You knew him at St. Vincent’s,” Elias said.
“Yes.”
“You never told me.”
“You never asked.”
“He signed the report.”
She looked at him. “You read my file?”
“I read everyone’s file.”
“You hired me knowing he had helped push me out.”
“I hired you because he didn’t want me to.”
May you like
That silenced her.
Elias turned his face toward the dark window. The city lights were faint through the hospital glass. “Neri called you careless. He also called you stubborn, adversarial, and pathologically attached to written records.”
