stopped on the entry for Myra Archer. Medic-Alpha Alert…Myra Archer, Flat 2, Palmer’s Green Court…Dead on Arrival…No known relatives…Medical Officer, Dr Chenhui Tang. There was no mention of a Post Mortem report.
Saracen closed the book and replaced it on the shelf. He went and sat down beside Chenhui who looked up from her book and smiled. Saracen glanced at the page she had been studying. It was headed, ‘At the Seaside’…How is the weather? The weather is fine. What colour is the sky? The sky is blue.
“Chenhui, do you remember a Mrs Myra Archer?” asked Saracen. He fully expected her to smile, repeat the name slowly and then look thoughtful. Instead her smile disappeared instantly, her eyes filled with something that looked like fear and she became so nervous and agitated that she dropped the book she had been looking at. Saracen picked it up and handed it to her.
“No…No Myra Archer,” said Chenhui, looking more and more like a frightened mouse.
“But…” Saracen stopped himself. “No matter,” he smiled, “It must have been a mistake. Forget it, it wasn’t important.”
Chenhui got up and excused herself leaving Saracen to look thoughtfully after her as she left the treatment room. “Now what was that all about?” he said quietly. It suddenly appeared as if Archer had been right. There had been something odd about the way his wife’s case had been handled. The question was what? He considered everything he knew about the affair. According to Timothy Archer there had been some kind of mix-up over which hospital his wife had been admitted to and, with Chenhui involved a misunderstanding was certainly on the cards. Had that been it? Had some failure in communication been responsible for a delay in admitting Myra Archer to hospital and, if so, had it been a serious delay? Could it have been responsible for her death?
If it had then there had obviously been a cover-up and Nigel Garten must have been involved for he was the one who had spoken to Archer. Saracen felt a hollowness creeping into the pit of his stomach. This was exactly the kind of situation he did not need in his life, not a second time.
His inclination was to do nothing and he tried to rationalise this course of inaction by telling himself that whatever he did it was not going to bring Myra Archer back to life. Any kind of enquiry would be sure to cause embarrassment, anguish and a great deal of unpleasantness. Chenhui might end up being dismissed; maybe even Nigel Garten too after a sacrificial inquiry by the Health Board for the benefit of the Press. He himself would establish his credentials beyond doubt as a viper who would never find another nest in medicine…Was that the real reason for doing nothing? he wondered. If someone had really died because of Chenhui it could happen again and, if it did, would it not be as much his fault as hers for having said nothing? “Shit,” said Saracen out loud.
As business began to pick up in A&E Saracen did his best to pretend to Chenhui that nothing was amiss. He had still not decided what to do for the best for both options seemed equally unattractive but, by tea time, he had come up with a third alternative. He would carry out an investigation on his own and reach his own conclusions about the death of Myra Archer. If he concluded that a foul-up had contributed to her death then he would speak out. If, on the other hand, he felt that she would have died anyway he would be content to let the matter rest.
The question now for Saracen was how to go about making enquiries discretely, how to find out what he wanted to know without having to make any direct approaches. That, he concluded, meant paperwork, always assuming that it existed for there was nothing more to be gleaned from A&E records. Myra Archer had been admitted as ‘Dead on Arrival’, no file would have been opened on her. That left the Post Mortem report which would record the exact cause of death, something that
Saracen closed the book and replaced it on the shelf. He went and sat down beside Chenhui who looked up from her book and smiled. Saracen glanced at the page she had been studying. It was headed, ‘At the Seaside’…How is the weather? The weather is fine. What colour is the sky? The sky is blue.
“Chenhui, do you remember a Mrs Myra Archer?” asked Saracen. He fully expected her to smile, repeat the name slowly and then look thoughtful. Instead her smile disappeared instantly, her eyes filled with something that looked like fear and she became so nervous and agitated that she dropped the book she had been looking at. Saracen picked it up and handed it to her.
“No…No Myra Archer,” said Chenhui, looking more and more like a frightened mouse.
“But…” Saracen stopped himself. “No matter,” he smiled, “It must have been a mistake. Forget it, it wasn’t important.”
Chenhui got up and excused herself leaving Saracen to look thoughtfully after her as she left the treatment room. “Now what was that all about?” he said quietly. It suddenly appeared as if Archer had been right. There had been something odd about the way his wife’s case had been handled. The question was what? He considered everything he knew about the affair. According to Timothy Archer there had been some kind of mix-up over which hospital his wife had been admitted to and, with Chenhui involved a misunderstanding was certainly on the cards. Had that been it? Had some failure in communication been responsible for a delay in admitting Myra Archer to hospital and, if so, had it been a serious delay? Could it have been responsible for her death?
If it had then there had obviously been a cover-up and Nigel Garten must have been involved for he was the one who had spoken to Archer. Saracen felt a hollowness creeping into the pit of his stomach. This was exactly the kind of situation he did not need in his life, not a second time.
His inclination was to do nothing and he tried to rationalise this course of inaction by telling himself that whatever he did it was not going to bring Myra Archer back to life. Any kind of enquiry would be sure to cause embarrassment, anguish and a great deal of unpleasantness. Chenhui might end up being dismissed; maybe even Nigel Garten too after a sacrificial inquiry by the Health Board for the benefit of the Press. He himself would establish his credentials beyond doubt as a viper who would never find another nest in medicine…Was that the real reason for doing nothing? he wondered. If someone had really died because of Chenhui it could happen again and, if it did, would it not be as much his fault as hers for having said nothing? “Shit,” said Saracen out loud.
As business began to pick up in A&E Saracen did his best to pretend to Chenhui that nothing was amiss. He had still not decided what to do for the best for both options seemed equally unattractive but, by tea time, he had come up with a third alternative. He would carry out an investigation on his own and reach his own conclusions about the death of Myra Archer. If he concluded that a foul-up had contributed to her death then he would speak out. If, on the other hand, he felt that she would have died anyway he would be content to let the matter rest.
The question now for Saracen was how to go about making enquiries discretely, how to find out what he wanted to know without having to make any direct approaches. That, he concluded, meant paperwork, always assuming that it existed for there was nothing more to be gleaned from A&E records. Myra Archer had been admitted as ‘Dead on Arrival’, no file would have been opened on her. That left the Post Mortem report which would record the exact cause of death, something that
Similar Books
