introduce
ourselves,” Tyler said, stepping forwards. She extended her arm across Joseph’s
midriff and said, “I’m Detective Tyler, and this is Detective Carter.” She
shook Marianna’s hand, and then after an awkward moment waiting for Joseph to
take it, she patted his shoulder instead.
“Detectives?” Marianna
asked.
“Yeah, we’re from Fourteenth
Precinct, downtown,” Carter announced, withdrawing his ID from his breast
pocket. “There was an incident last night, in the same room Joseph occupied
during the hospital’s screw-up. We need to ask you a few questions.”
“Like what?” Joseph slurred.
“Come again?” Carter asked.
Marianna took hold of her
husband’s arm. “He’s had a stroke and is having trouble communicating clearly.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that,”
Carter said. “But he does understand us, right?”
“Speak to him,” Marianna
demanded. “He isn’t a dim-wit.”
The reprimand caught Carter off
guard. “Right, sorry. So – Joseph, last night, did you see anything
suspicious?”
“Like what?”
Carter looked on blankly.
“He said: like what?” she
explained.
“Oh,” Carter said. “How did
you…?”
“We’ve been together a long
time, Detective, and endured more than one beer fest. The way he’s speaking
now, it isn’t a million miles away from when he’s had a drink.”
Joseph squirmed slightly,
embarrassed by his wife’s confession. Marianna read his distress. She patted
his arm gently and said, “Don’t worry sweetheart, a hard working man deserves
the occasional minor indiscretion.”
Now understanding that at least
he had some sort of three-way communication system, Carter pressed on. “So,
once again, Joseph, did you witness anything unusual?”
Joseph shrugged with just the
one working shoulder. “No.”
Carter raised his hand to
Marianna – no need to translate such an obvious response. “Did either of you
have a late visitor, or treatment by any of the hospital staff?”
Joseph barked with laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Carter
asked.
Marianna said, “Funny? No.
Negligent – yes. That’s the thing, Detective. Nobody checked in on either of
them all night. Not even an orderly with a bedpan or to bring them something to
eat.”
The word ‘shambolic’ entered
Joseph’s head, but he didn’t even attempt to vocalise such a word – even
Marianna would have been hard pushed to translate that one.
Carter turned briefly to
Detective Tyler, but she was busy jotting down their conversation. “Okay, but
what did you and he talk about?” he asked.
“Insurance.”
It took a moment for Marianna
to understand what her husband had just said. Joseph repeated it for her,
slower this time.
“He says ‘insurance’.”
“Which means?” pushed Carter.
Another shrug from Joseph.
“Take your time Mr. Ruebins,
this is important.”
Joseph sighed. What was this
all about? Had something happened to the old man, and if so, why weren’t they
telling him? Understanding that things would be quicker if he was to write a
reply – one that required more detail, Joseph used his left hand to phantom
write against the bed sheet.
Detective Tyler understood
instantly. She stepped forwards and tore off a sheet from the rear of her
notepad. She handed it over to him and then offered him her pen.
“Thanks.”
“Joseph,” Carter said, “I need
you to be as clear as possible about what was said between the two of you.”
Joseph paused for a moment to
gather his thoughts. Then he simply wrote what he could remember from the
previous night. It took him a while, Marianna first needing to find something
hard enough for him to write on – they made use of the hospital chart at the
foot of the bed. Using both sides of the paper, he eventually handed pen and
paper back to Detective Tyler. She passed the paper to Carter instantly,
curiously using only the very tips of her fingers. Likewise, Carter held the
sheet in an almost
ourselves,” Tyler said, stepping forwards. She extended her arm across Joseph’s
midriff and said, “I’m Detective Tyler, and this is Detective Carter.” She
shook Marianna’s hand, and then after an awkward moment waiting for Joseph to
take it, she patted his shoulder instead.
“Detectives?” Marianna
asked.
“Yeah, we’re from Fourteenth
Precinct, downtown,” Carter announced, withdrawing his ID from his breast
pocket. “There was an incident last night, in the same room Joseph occupied
during the hospital’s screw-up. We need to ask you a few questions.”
“Like what?” Joseph slurred.
“Come again?” Carter asked.
Marianna took hold of her
husband’s arm. “He’s had a stroke and is having trouble communicating clearly.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that,”
Carter said. “But he does understand us, right?”
“Speak to him,” Marianna
demanded. “He isn’t a dim-wit.”
The reprimand caught Carter off
guard. “Right, sorry. So – Joseph, last night, did you see anything
suspicious?”
“Like what?”
Carter looked on blankly.
“He said: like what?” she
explained.
“Oh,” Carter said. “How did
you…?”
“We’ve been together a long
time, Detective, and endured more than one beer fest. The way he’s speaking
now, it isn’t a million miles away from when he’s had a drink.”
Joseph squirmed slightly,
embarrassed by his wife’s confession. Marianna read his distress. She patted
his arm gently and said, “Don’t worry sweetheart, a hard working man deserves
the occasional minor indiscretion.”
Now understanding that at least
he had some sort of three-way communication system, Carter pressed on. “So,
once again, Joseph, did you witness anything unusual?”
Joseph shrugged with just the
one working shoulder. “No.”
Carter raised his hand to
Marianna – no need to translate such an obvious response. “Did either of you
have a late visitor, or treatment by any of the hospital staff?”
Joseph barked with laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Carter
asked.
Marianna said, “Funny? No.
Negligent – yes. That’s the thing, Detective. Nobody checked in on either of
them all night. Not even an orderly with a bedpan or to bring them something to
eat.”
The word ‘shambolic’ entered
Joseph’s head, but he didn’t even attempt to vocalise such a word – even
Marianna would have been hard pushed to translate that one.
Carter turned briefly to
Detective Tyler, but she was busy jotting down their conversation. “Okay, but
what did you and he talk about?” he asked.
“Insurance.”
It took a moment for Marianna
to understand what her husband had just said. Joseph repeated it for her,
slower this time.
“He says ‘insurance’.”
“Which means?” pushed Carter.
Another shrug from Joseph.
“Take your time Mr. Ruebins,
this is important.”
Joseph sighed. What was this
all about? Had something happened to the old man, and if so, why weren’t they
telling him? Understanding that things would be quicker if he was to write a
reply – one that required more detail, Joseph used his left hand to phantom
write against the bed sheet.
Detective Tyler understood
instantly. She stepped forwards and tore off a sheet from the rear of her
notepad. She handed it over to him and then offered him her pen.
“Thanks.”
“Joseph,” Carter said, “I need
you to be as clear as possible about what was said between the two of you.”
Joseph paused for a moment to
gather his thoughts. Then he simply wrote what he could remember from the
previous night. It took him a while, Marianna first needing to find something
hard enough for him to write on – they made use of the hospital chart at the
foot of the bed. Using both sides of the paper, he eventually handed pen and
paper back to Detective Tyler. She passed the paper to Carter instantly,
curiously using only the very tips of her fingers. Likewise, Carter held the
sheet in an almost
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