"That's convenient," Kim said.
As Kim walked back into the kitchen area, the front door of the restaurant burst open. Two uniformed police officers came charging in with their hands resting on their holstered revolvers. Their faces were grim. Roger trailed behind them, angrily gesturing toward Kim with his right hand while his left held a bloody napkin against his mouth.
TWELVE
Saturday, January 24th
Weak early-morning sunlight slanted through the mote-filled air of the courtroom and created a swath of light on the floor. Kim was standing in the beam and squinting from the glare. In front of him Judge Harlowe was presiding, in his black judicial robes. Reading glasses were perched precariously on the judge's narrow, knifelike nose. To Kim, he appeared like an enormous black bird.
"After more than twenty years on the bench," Judge Harlowe was saying while glaring down at Kim over the top of his spectacles, "I should not be surprised at what I see and hear. But, this is one strange story."
"It's because of my daughter's condition," Kim said. He was still attired in his long white coat over hospital scrubs, with his surgical mask still tied around his neck. But the coat was no longer crisp and clean. From having slept in it overnight in jail, it was wrinkled and soiled. Below the left pocket was a reddish-brown stain.
"Doctor, I have great sympathy for you given that your daughter is gravely ill," Judge Harlowe said. "What I have trouble understanding is why you are not at the hospital at her side."
"I should be," Kim said. "But her condition is such there is nothing I can do. Besides, I had only intended to be away for an hour or so."
"Well, I'm not here to make value judgments," Judge Harlowe said. "What I am here for is to address your behavior in regard to trespassing, committing battery on a fast-food restaurant manager, and, perhaps most egregious of all, resisting arrest and striking a police officer. Doctor, this is unacceptable behavior no matter the circumstances."
"But, Your Honor, I…" Kim began.
Judge Harlowe raised his hand to quiet Kim. "It doesn't matter that you suspect your daughter's illness might have originated at the Onion Ring on Prairie Highway. You of all people should know we have a Department of Health which is mandated to look into this kind of thing, and we have courts of law. Am I making myself clear?"
"Yes, Your Honor," Kim said resignedly.
"I hope you seek some help, Doctor," Judge Harlowe said. "I'm plainly mystified by your actions, knowing that you're a renowned cardiac surgeon. In fact, you operated on my father-in-law, and he still sings your praises. At any rate, I'm releasing you on your own recognizance. You're to return for trial four weeks hence. See the court clerk."
Judge Harlowe struck his gavel and asked for the next case.
On his way out of the courthouse, Kim eyed a public phone. He hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to call the hospital. The evening before he'd tried to call Tracy, but he'd failed to reach her with the calls he had been allotted. Now, with a phone available, he dithered. He felt guilty about having been gone for so long, as well as embarrassed for what had happened. He was also afraid of what he might find out about Becky. He decided to go rather than call.
At a cab stand just outside the courthouse, Kim caught a cab to the Onion Ring. The deserted restaurant looked completely different in the morning prior to its opening. Kim's aging vehicle was the only one in the parking lot and there wasn't a soul in sight.
Climbing in his car, Kim set out for the hospital. En route he made a detour to Sherring Labs.
Inside he approached a receiving counter and rang a stainless-steel bell. A woman appeared within seconds. She was dressed in a lab coat.
Kim fished the two hamburger patties, now defrosted, out of his left pocket and handed them to the woman. "I'd like these patties tested for E. coli 0157:H7," he said. "Also for the toxin."
The technician eyed the discolored meat warily. "I think it might have been better if you'd refrigerated the samples," she said. "When meat's been at room temperature for more than a couple of hours it's going to grow out a lot of bacteria."
"I understand that," Kim said. "But I don't care about other bacteria. I only want to know if E. coli 0157:H7 is present."
The woman disappeared for a moment. She returned wearing latex gloves. She took the meat and put each sample into a separate container. Then she took the billing details. Kim used his office account.
"How long will it take?" Kim asked.
"We'll have a final reading in forty-eight hours," she replied.
Kim thanked her, washed his hands in a restroom, and went back out to his car.
As he neared the hospital, Kim became increasingly anxious. He started trembling as he parked his car; the tremors grew worse as he rose up in the elevator. Preferring to face Tracy after checking on Becky, he used a back route to the ICU to avoid the ICU waiting room. As he passed through the halls, people eyed him with curiosity. Kim could well understand, considering his appearance. Besides his soiled attire, he needed a shower and a shave and his hair needed combing.
Within the ICU. Kim nodded to the ward clerk but didn't offer any explanation. Approaching Becky's cubicle. he found himself making a pact with God. If only Becky could be spared…
Kim slipped in by Becky's bedside. A nurse was changing her IV bottle. Her back was to him. Kim gazed at his daughter. Any faint sliver of hope of improvement he had entertained instantly vanished. Becky was obviously still in a coma. Her eyelids were taped shut and she was still intubated and being respired. What was new were large, deep-purple patches of subcutaneous bleeding under the skin of her face that made her look cadaverous.
"Oh, my goodness, you frightened me," the nurse said when she caught sight of Kim. She put a hand to her chest. "I didn't hear you."
"She doesn't look good," Kim said. He kept his voice even in an attempt to hide the grief, anger, and humiliating impotence he felt.
"I'm afraid not," the nurse said, eyeing Kim with some misgivings. "The poor little angel has been having a terrible time."
Kim's trained ear drew his attention to the cardiac monitor screen. The beeping was irregular as were the blips of the cursor.
"She has an arrhythmia! When did this develop?"
"Relatively recently," the nurse said. "It started last night. She developed a cardiac effusion which quickly brought on symptoms of tamponade. She had to be tapped."
"When?" Kim asked. Now he felt even more guilty for not having been available. Dealing with a cardiac effusion was something he knew about.
"Just after four this morning," the nurse said.
"Are any of her doctors still here?" Kim asked.
"I believe so," the nurse said. "I think they're talking to the patient's mother in the waiting room."
Kim fled. He couldn't stand to see his daughter in such a condition. Out in the corridor, he paused to catch his breath and regain some composure. Then he walked down to the waiting room. He found Tracy talking with Claire Stevens and Kathleen Morgan. As soon as they saw Kim, their conversation stopped.
For a moment there was silence.
Tracy was clearly distraught. Her mouth was a grim line. She had her knees pressed together and her hands clasped. She gazed at Kim with a sad, confused expression reflecting both concern and contempt. She shook her head. "You're in the same clothes. You're a mess. Where on earth have you been?"
"My visit to the Onion Ring took a lot longer than I thought it would." He looked at Claire. "So Becky has now developed pericarditis."
"I'm afraid so," Claire said.
"My God!" Kim exclaimed. "What next?"