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Authors: Alison Preston
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wagon rattled along behind her till she turned into her own yard and abandoned it on the lawn.
“Hi, Mr. Olsen.” She waved to Gus who was digging in his front garden.
“Howdy, Emma. Beautiful morning, eh?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She ran up the steps and into the house closing the door behind her against the cool spring air.
Nobody was up yet. This was the time that she usually spent reading her copy of the newspaper. But she didn’t feel like it today. Just the deaths to see if Esme Jones’ longer obituary had turned up yet. It hadn’t.
Gus had been thinking about the Lincoln Town Car from the other night. He couldn’t get it out of his head. He must make a point of speaking to Frank about it, although he realized what he had to say didn’t amount to much. Maybe he was making a mountain out of a molehill.
Such a wisp of a girl, he thought, when Emma turned into her yard. Thirteen she was, but she looked like a child still, with her pale features and slight frame. He didn’t doubt that she would blossom soon. It all happened so fast at that age. But she seemed slow physically and Gus figured that must be a relief for Frank. He could imagine the anguish of being the father of a beautiful daughter that first boys and then men couldn’t wait to get their hands on. Poor Frank.
CHAPTER 18
Frank sat at his desk thinking about Jane Mallet. It was time to make a visit to the River City Health Centre. It had been called the River City Mental Hospital when Frank was a boy. And according to legend, it had started out as the River City Lunatic Asylum.
He drove a few miles south of the city to the grand old structure on the banks of the Red. It’d had its very own dike built after the flood of 1950. New wings had been added to the original building in the sixties and again in the eighties. Administration was still located in the old part. Frank knew this because his work as a policeman had brought him here before.
Frank loved old buildings. It was easy to pretend while he walked these halls that it was 1910 and he was sauntering toward the head nurse’s office to talk with her in her starched whites about the criminal lunatics under her care. He could be smoking a cigarette or even a cigar. Like Emma.
The head psychiatric nurse was new. Her name was Norma Wayne and she didn’t look anything like the nurse Frank had conjured up in his mind’s eye.
She didn’t try to hide her surprise when he inquired about a nurse named Jane Mallet.
“We don’t have a nurse here by that name but we do have a patient.” She pulled up Jane’s file on her computer screen.
“She’s been here a long time, our Jane.”
“How long?”
Nurse Wayne gave Frank a flirtatious smile but didn’t answer.
“Do you think I could have a copy of her file to take away with me?” Frank asked.
“Do you have a warrant?”
“No.”
She laughed. “Well then, no, you may not.”
“May I look at it while I’m here?”
“No. You may not.”
“How about if you read it to me, Ms. Wayne?”
She laughed again. “That sounds like the most fun idea so far but I’m afraid I can’t do that either. You know that, Inspector Foote.”
“Frank. Please call me Frank.”
“Okay, Frank. If you’ll call me Norma.”
Norma was willing to admit that there wasn’t any record of the patient having been pregnant. “But that doesn’t rule it out,” she said. “More than once at my former place of employment a baby popped out unannounced. It wouldn’t surprise me. No, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit.”
Nurse Norma Wayne sighed and smoothed her red skirt over her thighs. She sat up straight at a table that didn’t really qualify as a desk in Frank’s opinion. There were no drawers. Where would you hide your stuff?
I guess head nurses don’t have to follow a dress code these days, he thought, as he took in the snugly fitting skirt and high heels. Far too high for a nurse. For any prairie person. They belonged in Bangkok.
“I’d
“Hi, Mr. Olsen.” She waved to Gus who was digging in his front garden.
“Howdy, Emma. Beautiful morning, eh?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She ran up the steps and into the house closing the door behind her against the cool spring air.
Nobody was up yet. This was the time that she usually spent reading her copy of the newspaper. But she didn’t feel like it today. Just the deaths to see if Esme Jones’ longer obituary had turned up yet. It hadn’t.
Gus had been thinking about the Lincoln Town Car from the other night. He couldn’t get it out of his head. He must make a point of speaking to Frank about it, although he realized what he had to say didn’t amount to much. Maybe he was making a mountain out of a molehill.
Such a wisp of a girl, he thought, when Emma turned into her yard. Thirteen she was, but she looked like a child still, with her pale features and slight frame. He didn’t doubt that she would blossom soon. It all happened so fast at that age. But she seemed slow physically and Gus figured that must be a relief for Frank. He could imagine the anguish of being the father of a beautiful daughter that first boys and then men couldn’t wait to get their hands on. Poor Frank.
CHAPTER 18
Frank sat at his desk thinking about Jane Mallet. It was time to make a visit to the River City Health Centre. It had been called the River City Mental Hospital when Frank was a boy. And according to legend, it had started out as the River City Lunatic Asylum.
He drove a few miles south of the city to the grand old structure on the banks of the Red. It’d had its very own dike built after the flood of 1950. New wings had been added to the original building in the sixties and again in the eighties. Administration was still located in the old part. Frank knew this because his work as a policeman had brought him here before.
Frank loved old buildings. It was easy to pretend while he walked these halls that it was 1910 and he was sauntering toward the head nurse’s office to talk with her in her starched whites about the criminal lunatics under her care. He could be smoking a cigarette or even a cigar. Like Emma.
The head psychiatric nurse was new. Her name was Norma Wayne and she didn’t look anything like the nurse Frank had conjured up in his mind’s eye.
She didn’t try to hide her surprise when he inquired about a nurse named Jane Mallet.
“We don’t have a nurse here by that name but we do have a patient.” She pulled up Jane’s file on her computer screen.
“She’s been here a long time, our Jane.”
“How long?”
Nurse Wayne gave Frank a flirtatious smile but didn’t answer.
“Do you think I could have a copy of her file to take away with me?” Frank asked.
“Do you have a warrant?”
“No.”
She laughed. “Well then, no, you may not.”
“May I look at it while I’m here?”
“No. You may not.”
“How about if you read it to me, Ms. Wayne?”
She laughed again. “That sounds like the most fun idea so far but I’m afraid I can’t do that either. You know that, Inspector Foote.”
“Frank. Please call me Frank.”
“Okay, Frank. If you’ll call me Norma.”
Norma was willing to admit that there wasn’t any record of the patient having been pregnant. “But that doesn’t rule it out,” she said. “More than once at my former place of employment a baby popped out unannounced. It wouldn’t surprise me. No, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit.”
Nurse Norma Wayne sighed and smoothed her red skirt over her thighs. She sat up straight at a table that didn’t really qualify as a desk in Frank’s opinion. There were no drawers. Where would you hide your stuff?
I guess head nurses don’t have to follow a dress code these days, he thought, as he took in the snugly fitting skirt and high heels. Far too high for a nurse. For any prairie person. They belonged in Bangkok.
“I’d
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