After she and Owen had parked the car, they got out and headed towards the glass doors of the hospital's main entrance.They headed inside, where May found herself in a modern, well-lit lobby. On the right was a reception desk. The young woman behind it was busy with an elderly couple, who seemed to be asking about a cab service.
"I'll call a cab for you now," the receptionist said helpfully.
Curbing her impatience, May tried not to fidget as the receptionist finished dealing with her two elderly and hard-of-hearing clients. Finally, she ushered them to a seat near the doorway to wait for their cab, and then it was May's turn.
"Deputies Moore and Lovell," she introduced them. "We’re here looking for information. I need your help with a murder case we’re investigating," she said.
The receptionist raised her eyebrows. "Are these the killings we've been hearing about? Those terrible stabbings?"
"That's correct," May said.
"They are so tragic. I remember that Mrs. Alicia Hopeford was a patient here a while ago, in the ICU. It seems impossible she survived such a serious accident, only to be murdered."
"We're looking to find out if these women were all patients here, and if so, if they might have been targeted by anyone working here," May said.
The receptionist gasped. "You think such a thing could happen? That's the most shocking thought. I can't imagine anyone here doing such a thing."
"I know, it’s very difficult to accept that someone in this community might be a killer," May sympathized. “But it’s something we need to look at, and hopefully rule out,” she reassured her.
"I only know about Mrs. Hopeford, but we are a very busy hospital and I only work here part- time. The other victims might have been treated here in the past. The hospital administrator is the person you need to speak to; I think he's still here and has just wrapped up a meeting."
She got on the phone, punched keys, and spoke briefly.
Then she turned back to them. "Mr. Smith will see you now. He's in the admin offices, which are at the end of the corridor on the right."
She pointed the way.
May and Owen headed down the corridor, and May breathed in the smells of the hospital, the tang of disinfectant, and a whiff of cooked food from the dinner service. She found that being here brought back vivid memories of the time, not so long ago, when she and Owen had been treated for smoke inhalation at this very same place, after surviving a bomb blast.
All the emotions flooded back as she paced along the polished tiles. The worry, the anxiety, the fear that her deputy had been seriously hurt in the blast. May shivered, not wanting to relive that moment again.
They reached a double doorway marked "Admin Services" and walking through, found themselves in a lobby. The door at the far side opened, and a pleasant-looking, middle-aged man with a balding head and brown eyes, rushed out. He was wearing a white shirt and tie, and gray suit pants.
The man's eyes were sharp, and he raised his eyebrows as he saw them. "Deputies, I've just been called by our receptionist. I understand you need information on a case. I'm Mr. Smith, the administrator here."
"We are looking for information. It’s in connection with the murders," May agreed. "We know that Alicia Hopeford was a patient here. We're looking to find out if the other two victims were treated here, and if so, whether they had any doctors or nurses in common. We need to rule out that someone on the medical team could have targeted them for some reason, knowing they’d all survived death in the past."
Mr. Smith looked surprised. "That sounds psychotic.”
“Yes, without a doubt, the person we’re looking for is psychotic, but it might not be obvious, and they might be capable of acting normally in society. It could be secret, hidden behavior.”
You think a hospital worker could have done this?"
"We're urgently seeking common threads," May explained. "This could be an important one."
Mr. Smith sighed, as if accepting that such a terrible possibility might have played out.
"Obviously, the records themselves are confidential. I can't give you information on that," he said firmly.
For a moment, May felt taken aback. She felt Owen's concerned glance and knew he was just as worried as she was.
Was this administrator refusing to help them?
She felt a flash of fear that they'd have to subpoena him, and that this would end up being a time-consuming disaster that would allow this killer to commit more murders.
But then she realized that he was not actually refusing to help. Rather, he was just setting down the rules by which it would be possible for him to help. And May would have to feel her way and get what she needed without breaching the big hurdle of patient confidentiality.
"Can we talk in the office?" she said.