Breach of Ethics Page 11

  We left reluctantly and walked back across the street together. When we got to the library, Cleo said she needed to come inside and use the restroom. While she took care of business, I went to my desk and found a message Lola had written earlier while I was at the Department Head meeting.

  Call Mr. Korba.

  I thought back to my unpleasant confrontation with Hector Korba about the Ethics Committee minutes. Was he calling about that, or was something else on his mind?

  I had forgotten to ask Cleo if Korba was allowed to see the minutes, but this would be the perfect time. If she wasn’t sure about the status of ex-officio members of TMC’s medical staff committees, she could ask for a legal opinion when she called Loren Davidson. She came out of the restroom and started toward the exit with a wave in my direction.

  “Wait, Cleo, I just remembered a legal detail I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  She turned and came up to my desk. “You can try me, but I’m no lawyer.”

  “I’m sure this is something you know, but it came up for the first time for me last week, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.” I told her about the day Korba had come by asking about the content of the Ethics Committee minutes.

  She raised her eyebrows. “Did you let him see them?”

  “No, and I meant to ask you then, but Korba never approached me about it again, and it slipped my mind.”

  She nodded. “You did right. He’s an ex-officio member of the Ethics Committee. He doesn’t have the same rights as the physician members of the committee.”

  “Is that also true for Quinn?”

  “Yes, and he and Korba are both peeved about it. They sit on the governing board, where they’re full members with equal rights, and it rubs them the wrong way when the medical staff committees make them feel like second-class citizens.

  “Do ex-officio members of committees always have restricted rights?”

  “No.” She smiled. “Remind me, do you have a copy of Robert’s Rules of Order in your library?”

  I blushed. “Of course. I never thought—”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s helpful in general terms, but it wouldn’t have answered your question. Roberts clarifies that ex-officio is a method of sitting on a committee, not a class of membership.” She raised a finger, “But—and this is the stickler—the bylaws covering the committee in question can restrain their rights, and that’s our situation. TMC’s Medical Staff Bylaws do not allow any ex-officio members the same rights as our physician members.”

  After Cleo left, I returned Korba’s call with a sense of dread. Sybil Snyder had not returned my call, so I assumed the answer was still no. I didn’t look forward to refusing him again. I wondered if he had gone to Snyder himself to request access to the minutes. Korba was out, so I left a message and went back to my routine tasks with snippets of Margie’s mellow accordion serenade playing in the back of my mind.

  Harry called as I was shutting down the computers at quitting time. As I picked up, I remembered that there was one plus to Quinn’s being banished from the TMC campus. His office would be empty until he was allowed to return.

  “I have news,” Harry said.

  “So do I, but you go first.”

  “Not now. Do you want to come to the dojo tonight?”

  “Why? Aren’t you teaching a class?”

  “I am, but it’s peewees, so I’ll be finished at six thirty. Why don’t you come and help? We can compare notes after.”

  “Sounds like fun. I like working with the kids.” Harry’s peewee class started at five thirty. The children were ages three to six, so an hour was a challenge to their energy and attention spans. My gi bag was in my car, so I drove straight from work to the dojo.

  The peewee class was made up of half boys and half girls—sixteen in all. They wore their little gis with pride and took their instruction from Sensei Harry with dignity beyond their years. It was a source of pride to watch him work with the youngest kids and a special treat when I had a chance to help out. After we put them through their basic holds and throws, they played the sumo game where they were matched with an opponent and put inside a circle. Whichever opponent caused the other to step outside the circle was declared the winner. The kids looked forward to the game as a treat at the end of their hour.

  They bowed off the mat and went to their respective changing rooms, where I heard happy laughter coming from the boys and giggles and squeals from the girls. The final ritual was collecting their treats from the candy jar, and then the peewees headed home with their parents.

  Harry and I changed out of our gis, locked the dojo, and headed to his condo. His place was warm, clean, and cozy. As usual, I took a moment to look through the wall of windows overlooking the Sacramento River at the panorama of Timbergate’s city lights. While he poured two glasses of Merlot, I shrugged out of my jacket and shoes. Then I took my glass to his living room and sat on the couch with my feet curled under me.

  “Long day.” Harry came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of crackers and cheese. He put it on the coffee table and sank into his easy chair. “Let’s trade intel and see if we have anything to work with. You first.”

  “Okay. As of today, Quinn is no longer working three days a week. He’ll be on leave for an unspecified period of time. Sanjay announced it at our Department Head meeting.”

  Harry lifted his glass. “A toast to serendipity.”

  “What?”

  “My news and your news might bring us the chance we’ve been looking for. I heard a couple of guys talking at the gym this morning about a fire drill scheduled at TMC.”

  “We have them every month. Why?” Then my brain clicked into gear. “Oh, I get it. A fire drill might be our best chance to sneak you into Quinn’s office.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” Harry left his easy chair to come over and sit next to me on the couch. “Tell me about the drills. The fire department doesn’t show up, does it?”

  “No. The staff in the area of the drill activates the nearest fire alarm box, so the alarm sounds throughout the hospital during the drills. When the drill is scheduled, the hospital alerts the company monitoring the fire alarm system in advance, so the fire department won’t be dispatched.”

  “The guys I overheard must work for the fire alarm company that TMC uses.”

  “Sounds likely. After the drill, the hospital administrator contacts them to verify the time that an alarm signal was received and to let them know when the drill is completed.”

  He gave me a little punch in the arm. “You have this down, don’t you? I’m impressed.”

  I smiled and shrugged. “I had to memorize the whole fire drill procedure. I’m a department head, so I have specific duties if there’s a drill in my building. I’m responsible for guiding any patrons or employees to safety. Then I wait outside with them until an all-clear is announced.”

  He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “You said the administrator follows up. That will be your acting administrator?”

  “Right. Sanjay should be physically present in whichever location the drill takes place. Did they say anything about which area or which shift?”

  “They were talking about middle of the night,” Harry said. “I heard them mention the emergency room.”

  “Oh, boy.” I set my glass down and turned to Harry. “That’s the worst. They could be handling any variety or number of critical patient situations when that alarm sounds, but when their turn comes up, they have to do the drill just like everyone else.”

  “If it’s in the middle of the night, would anyone be up on the fourth floor?”

  I thought for a moment. “Sanjay would have to be in the building, but he’d be supervising the drill. Emergency’s on the first floor.”

  “Anyone else work on the fourth floor at night?”

  “Varsha Singh—Quinn and Sanjay’s executive assistant—wouldn’t need to come in after hours for the drill, so no, that floor would be empty.”

  “Any chance
of us getting in and out of the administrative suite while no one’s in there?”

  “During the drill? A good chance, but only if I had keys, which I don’t, and even if no one’s around, there’s still the problem of the security cameras.”

  He punched his hand with his fist. “Damn the cameras! I have an idea, but we’ll need Cleo’s help. Does she have keys?”

  “As far as I know, she has keys to everything except the administrative suite.”

  He reached for his glass again, then realized it was empty. “She has a lot of clout there, doesn’t she? Is there any way she could get her hands on those?”

  “I don’t know, but that reminds me, she was going to call legal counsel at the home office to ask about Quinn’s abrupt leave of absence." I picked up my phone. "Let’s see what she found out.” I reached Cleo at home and asked if she had talked to Loren Davidson.

  “I did, but it was just before I left work. I was going to fill you in tomorrow morning. What’s up?”

  I explained Harry’s idea about the fire drill and asked about her keys.

  Cleo sighed. “This must be your lucky day … or my unlucky one.”

  “Why?”

  “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but Davidson is uneasy with Sanjay at the helm, so he’s already ordered Security to issue me a set of keys to the administrative suite. I picked them up this morning, but I’m supposed to use them only if there’s a catastrophic emergency.” I heard the wariness in her voice. “He mentioned an earthquake or a shooter, God forbid.”

  “Or a fire?” I asked.

  “Of course, but not a fire drill.”

  I smiled at Harry and gave him a thumbs up. I was pretty sure I could convince her. “This is a special case. I think you should tell Sanjay that home office wants us to assist him with the drill. He’s never been in charge of one. He’d probably appreciate our help.”

  “Is this plan of Harry’s supposed to save Quinn’s neck?”

  “That’s the idea, but I think Harry’s more concerned about my neck than Quinn’s.”

  “Why? Have the police contacted you again?”

  “Not so far, but I get uneasy every time my phone rings.”

  After a silent moment, Cleo said, “Okay, come by my office tomorrow and tell me what we have to do.”

  “I will. Don’t forget to approach Sanjay about the fire drill. As soon as we know for sure what time it’s scheduled, we need to let my brother know.” Harry heard that and broke into a grin.

  Cleo sighed again. “I’ll take care of it. Anything else?”

  “One more question. Have you tried calling Quinn?”

  “Didn’t need to after I talked to Loren at home office. Remind me to tell you about that tomorrow morning.”

  I filled Harry in on Cleo’s half of our conversation. “I guess that’s all we can do for now. I’d better get home.”

  “Not yet. I just refilled your glass.” Harry, who’d been pacing during the phone call, plopped down in his easy chair. “I want to hear about that lip lock I saw the other night in the dojo parking lot.”

  His quip about the kiss Nick and I shared triggered a reminder. I’d asked Nick if he knew who Harry was dating, and he’d replied that I should ask my brother. If I was going to do that, now was the time.

  “Only if you agree to a quid pro quo,” I said. “And you go first.”

  Harry set his glass on a marble-topped side table next to his chair. “What makes you think I have anything to tell?”

  “Call it woman’s intuition. Not mine—Amah’s. She thinks there’s a woman in your life. She’s always had a sixth sense when it comes to us. Remember? We used to think she could read our minds.”

  “Amah wants to know who I’m dating? Since when?”

  “Since she thinks it might be serious, even exclusive. I asked Nick, but he invoked the Guy Code. He said to ask you, so I’m asking.”

  “You might not like the answer.” Harry gave me an apprehensive look.

  “Come on, that doesn’t make sense. I’m always on your side. If you’re seeing someone who makes you happy, how could I object to that?” I did have some no-nos. Married women were off-limits. So was any woman who might get cold feet about dating a man with our Eurasian parentage, especially if her family objected. That had already happened to Harry once. I’d seen my brother’s heart break a little back then, and I wasn’t about to see it happen again.

  While I was waiting for his answer, Harry’s cell phone rang. He reached for it, looked at the screen and answered. “Hi. Aimee’s here, I’ll call you back.” He put the phone back on the table next to his chair. “Speak of the devil,” he said.

  “That was her? You told her I’m here. That means she and I know each other, doesn’t it?”

  Harry glanced at the phone in his hand. “It means she knows I have a sister named Aimee.”

  “No, it was the way you said it … like she knows me.” I was more curious than ever. “Come on, if you’re going to keep seeing her, you can’t hide her forever.”

  “You’re right. But first, finish that glass of wine.”

  “Better not. I have to drive home.”

  “Then here goes,” Harry said. “I’ve been seeing Rella Olstad for about two months.”

  “Rella? Nick’s ex?” I sprang to my feet.

  Harry yelled, “Sit.” I forced myself back onto the couch, took a deep breath and let it out before I spoke.

  “You’ve been … what? How?”

  “We started dating not long after she helped you out of that scrape a while back.”

  “And Nick knows?”

  “Of course. He’s my best friend and Rella’s his coworker. It would have been pretty difficult to keep him in the dark.”

  “Then why have you waited so long to tell me?”

  “Because you and Nick split over that mix-up with Rella in Paris. The three of us realize it threw you, hurt you, and we weren’t sure how you’d feel about my dating her. We could have kept it quiet if she and I had one or two dates and hadn’t clicked. Now we’re pretty much exclusive, so I guess it’s time to bring it out in the open.”

  “Nick’s okay with it? You’re sure?”

  “Of course. You might not know him as well as you think you do. I think you’ve underestimated both of them, Aimee. Especially Rella. It’s time you got to know her a little better.”

  His words humbled me, made me feel a little like a child who’s been scolded, knowing it’s deserved and saddened for having disappointed the person doing the scolding.

  “You’re asking me to do something very difficult, you know.”

  “I know.” Harry rose and pulled me up from the couch, wrapping me in a bear hug. “But you’re my Big Sis. We’ve always had each other’s backs. However this turns out, we’ll get it right.”

  The late hour and the heavy conversation had drained the last of my energy. I told Harry I needed to get home.

  “Not fair,” he said. “The deal was quid pro quo, and I didn’t get any juicy tidbits about you and Nick.”

  “I don’t have anything to tell you that tops what you’ve come up with tonight … except that this news adds a whole new twist to my own relationship. Give me time to process it.”

  “Whatever you want.” He picked up his phone. “Now scram. I have a call to make.”

  Chapter 12

  I’d had a nearly sleepless night after my visit with Harry and our conversation about Rella, but I managed to push that diversion aside and got on with my Tuesday morning. Library business took a back seat for the first hour. I called Natasha Korba’s nurse in the Pediatric ICU and got the standard answer offered to callers who are not relatives: “Doing as well as can be expected.”

  Hector Korba had not called back, and I’d had no word from Sybil Snyder giving him permission to read the Ethics Committee minutes. The phone sat on my desk like a coiled snake. It would ring eventually. When it did, I hoped it would be Snyder and that the answer would be yes. If it was, Korb
a would read about the altercation between Lowe and Quinn, but that couldn’t be helped. At least he’d stop hounding me about the minutes.

  My close ties to my own grandparents made me sympathetic to Korba’s concern for his little granddaughter. Amah once told me that Harry and I were her greatest happiness. I suspected Natasha was the greatest source of happiness in her grandfather’s life. Maybe the only source.

  I also wondered about Cleo’s call to home office to ask about Quinn’s leave of absence. I planned to walk over to the main tower to get her report, but I couldn’t leave until my new volunteer arrived.

  Bernie Kluckert strolled in at nine sharp wearing the auxiliary members’ bright orange blazer. I had wondered about the color when I first began working at TMC, but eventually I was told it was important that the volunteers be easy to spot. Over the years there had been a few who wandered off course.

  “Top of the morning to ya, miss.” Bernie greeted me with a salute. He held it, standing at attention until I realized he was waiting for me to respond somehow.

  “At ease,” I said. I felt silly, but it worked. He lowered his arm. “It isn’t necessary to be so formal, Mr. Kluckert.”

  “Navy man,” he said. “Korea. Old habits die hard, don’t you see?”

  The clicking of his false teeth reminded me of our introduction the day before and of his interest in Lola Rampley. Lola was so efficient on her three mornings a week that there was very little for Bernie to do. How would I keep him busy for three hours every Tuesday and Thursday? Bernie solved the problem for me.

  “Looks like your plants are thirsty, miss.” He touched the drooping leaves of a philodendron in a pot on the corner of my desk. “Are they being fed regular?”

  I had inherited dozens of potted plants from a former volunteer. She had made it her mission to rescue any left behind by discharged or deceased patients. An unfortunate medical situation had forced the volunteer with the green thumb to leave town, and neither Lola nor I had been diligent about caring for the plants. When they looked near death, either or both of us would douse them with water, but that was about the extent of our horticultural commitment. Bernie might be their savior.