Authors: Robin Cook
Meanwhile, let me warn you people: Don't defile my grandmother's body without my permission unless you are willing to deal with one very unhappy camper."
"An unhappy camper?" Kashmira questioned, totally confused.
Jennifer rolled her eyes. "It means someone who's really pissed."
Chapter 11
OCTOBER 17, 2007
WEDNESDAY, 9:45 A.M.
DELHI, INDIA
Jennifer stared out the Mercedes's window. She was so embroiled in her own thoughts she didn't even notice the traffic. The reality was that she had been what she called
"pissed" far sooner than she'd admitted. There was no doubt Queen Victoria Hospital was jerking her around, and having been a victim long enough in her relatively short life, she didn't relish the role. Breaking out of the role had been her major challenge. The seminal event had occurred in middle school, where truancy and fighting had become the rule for her. At loose ends, her grandmother, who had been a particularly proud woman, did something she normally would not have done: She begged for someone's help. The person she turned to was Dr. Laurie Montgomery, a New York medical examiner whom the grandmother had practically raised from age one to age thirteen as her nanny.
At the time Jennifer had found it big-time weird to meet a stranger who called her own grandmother "Granny." But Granny had been Laurie Montgomery's nanny for twelve years. Not surprisingly, Dr. Montgomery had fallen in love with Granny and considered her family. So when Jennifer's demons drove her over the cliff, Granny pleaded with Laurie Montgomery to try to stop Jennifer's downward spiral.
With as much love and respect as Laurie held for Maria, she was happy to help. What she did was invite the wayward Jennifer to the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner after school for one week to follow her around and see what her job was all about. The other medical examiners had been skeptical of a twelve-year-old girl having a career week at the morgue, but Laurie had prevailed, and the result beat expectations. The situation had been sufficiently "weird" and "yucky," in Jennifer's own terms, to capture her adolescent imagination, especially since it was the first academic career to which she'd been even slightly exposed. Jennifer took it all in stride-until the third day. That day, a girl just her age was brought in with a perfectly clean, round red dot in her forehead. She'd been shot by a rival gang.
Fortunately, Jennifer's story went on to have a happy ending. Jennifer and Laurie had clicked more than either would have imagined, prompting Laurie to check with both her philanthropic mother and her own private school as to the possibility of Jennifer's getting a scholarship. A month later, Jennifer found herself in a demanding academic environment with no gang affiliations, and the rest was history.
"Of course!" Jennifer said loud enough to startle the driver.
"Is there a problem, madam?" the driver asked, while looking at Jennifer through the rearview mirror.
"No, no problem," Jennifer said, as she reached for her shoulder bag and began rummaging for her phone. She had no idea what it would cost to call New York, but she wasn't going to worry about it. She was going to call Laurie Montgomery. Laurie didn't even know Granny had died, and that was reason enough to call. On top of that was the decision issue, and even the autopsy idea. Now that she had thought of calling Laurie, Jennifer had trouble explaining to herself why she hadn't thought of it earlier.
While trying to figure out how to dial the United States, Jennifer had another question: What time was it on the East Coast? She knew it was nine and a half hours' difference, but in which direction? Despite her exhaustion, Jennifer forced herself to concentrate.
She reasoned that since New York was ahead, then time should go back, and as crazy as that sounded to her at the moment, the more confident she was, but not overconfident.
She went through the reasoning again, and then decided to accept on faith it was close to midnight the evening before in the Big Apple.
Knowing from the distant past that Laurie was an inveterate night owl, Jennifer was willing to make the call. Despite the subject of the call, she found herself getting excited as she heard it go through. It was astounding to think she was about to talk to Laurie halfway around the world, and she hadn't spoken with her for more than a year. The phone was picked up on the first ring.
"I hope I'm not calling too late," Jennifer said without preamble.
"Heavens no," Laurie responded. "Is this Jennifer?"
"It is."
Laurie was demonstrably pleased to hear Jennifer's voice and assumed she was in California. For a few minutes, the women made small talk. Jennifer asked about Jack.
Laurie, for her part, apologized for not calling Jennifer since the wedding and used the infertility turmoil as her prime excuse. Jennifer wished her luck.
"So," Laurie said when there was a pause, "is this a mere social call or what? Not that it isn't great to hear from you, but is there something I can help with, like a letter of recommendation for a residency?"
"Unfortunately, there is a specific reason for my call, but it doesn't have anything to do with my medical training," Jennifer said. She went on to explain that she was in India and why. At several places she had to stop and pull herself together.
"Oh, no!" Laurie said when Jennifer finished. "I hadn't heard a word. Oh, I'm so sorry!"
Jennifer could hear a catch in Laurie's voice as she waxed nostalgic about how much Maria had added to her childhood. She closed her spontaneous eulogy with a question:
"Did you go to India to bring back her body or her ashes to the States, or are you planning on leaving her there? After all, India might be the world's most spiritual country. If I died in India, I think I'd like my ashes placed in the Ganges with the billions of other souls."
"Now that's one thing I didn't think of," Jennifer admitted, explaining that she was having trouble deciding between cremation or embalming, much less what she was going to do with the remains afterward. "Sometime today I'm going to try to get over to the American embassy. I imagine they'll have the scoop on comparative costs and all the diplomatic details."
"I imagine that will be the case. Gosh, I'm sorry you have to do this yourself. I wish I were there to help. She truly was like a mother to me, so much so, I think there were times my real mother was jealous, but it was my mother's own fault. She was the one who handed me over to begin with."
"I can assure you the feelings were mutual," Jennifer said.
"I'm pleased to hear it, but I'm not surprised. Children can sense it, like I did."
"There's something else I want to run by you. Do you have a few more minutes?"
"By all means. I'm all ears."
"The hospital authorities have really been pushing me hard, which I freely admit I don't respond well to, and they do have reason. I mean, the private hospital involved is spectacular and very high-tech. Yet when they built it, they passed on building any mortuary facilities. Because in India bodies are claimed very rapidly by both Hindus and Muslims, for religious reasons."
"And maybe the hospital's owners thought that in spiritual India with all the gods on their side, they wouldn't have any deaths."
Jennifer managed a chuckle then went on. "Granny's body is in a walk-in cooler, but the cooler is down near the cafeteria and contains mostly sealed food containers. Apparently that's the only place to leave a body."
"Yuck," Laurie voiced.
"Why I'm telling you this is because from their vantage point they have a real reason to want to dispose of Granny, especially since they already have the death certificate in hand."
"I should say."
"But they tried to force me to decide even before I got here, and once I did get here, and I've only been here for hours, it's been push, push, push, cremate or embalm. I mean, they literally wanted to do it yesterday for fear the sky would fall. Initially, maybe I was just being obstructive from being angry because they killed my granny. Now it's something else."
"Like what? What are you implying?"
"I asked them what killed Maria, and they said heart attack. Then I asked them what caused the heart attack, given that she came out to visit me in L.A. not too long ago, and while she was there, she got a very thorough physical at UCLA Med Center. I was told her cardiovascular system got an A-plus report. Now, how can someone with an A-plus get an F a few months later, twelve hours post-elective surgery. I mean, during the procedure it might be understandable for idiosyncratic drug toxicity but not twelve hours later. At least I don't think so."
"I agree," Laurie said. "With no apparent risk factors, you have to ask the question why."
"And that's why I did ask the question, but I certainly did not get a satisfactory answer, at least from the case manager. She just told me she wasn't a doctor and apparently considered that adequate. It was then that I suggested the autopsy."
"Good for you," Laurie commented. "That is exactly what is needed if you have questions."
"Fat chance," Jennifer scoffed. "The case manager, Kashmira Varini, said whether or not there is going to be an autopsy is not up to the doctors or next of kin but the police or the magistrates. She went on to say that since Granny had been issued a death certificate, then there was not going to be an autopsy, case closed!"
"I've heard that the Indian forensic pathology system is behind the times. It's too bad. It creates a circumstance where miscarriages of justice are waiting to happen. In many developing countries, the police and the judiciary are almost invariably corrupt and often in cahoots."
"There's more," Jennifer said. "For the second night in a row, there's been a death at the same hospital that sounds strangely similar. First it was my granny, then last night it was a man named Herbert Benfatti. Both were apparent heart attacks the night of their surgery, and like Granny, Mr. Benfatti had been recently cleared by an essentially normal pre-op angiogram."
"Did they do an autopsy on the second patient?"
"I have no idea. When I asked the case manager handling Granny's case, she told me she didn't know about any death last night, but I didn't believe her."
"How come?"
"Mostly intuition, I guess, which is hardly scientific. She just does not strike me as a truthful person. She wanted me to decide on the disposition of my grandmother's body and didn't want the issue to be diluted. I don't know."
"Do you think you are going to be able to keep stalling them?"
"I truly don't know. As irritated as I am, I know they're irritated, too; at least the case manager is. Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm going to come over there as soon as I possibly can and give you a hand. I don't think I'd forgive myself if I didn't come. Remember, she was as much a mother to me as she was to you and your brothers. Listen, I'll come unless you think you won't be able to deal with a hormone-addled crazy woman."
Jennifer was stunned. Laurie being willing to come all the way to India had never even occurred to her. "Hormones or no hormones, it wouldn't make a particle of difference, but it's one hell of a long flight," she warned. "I mean, I'd love to have your help and support. Don't get me wrong!"
"I don't doubt that it is one of the longest," Laurie said, "but how bad can it be? I just read that Air India has New York-Delhi nonstops."
"I suppose that would have been better than the two stops I was relegated to."
"Where are you staying?"
"It's called the Amal Palace, and it's the best hotel I ever stayed in. Of course, I've stayed in very few hotels."
"Wait a second!" Laurie suddenly said, sounding disgusted with herself. "What am I thinking? I can't wing off to India. I'm in the middle of an infertility cycle."
"Right! You told me, and I forgot, too," Jennifer said. Selfishly, she felt a big letdown.
Having Laurie there with her would have been terrific.
"Actually," Laurie said, "I believe I can do it after all, providing I can bring my sperm factory. That's what Jack has been calling himself the last few months. That means it will be up to Dr. Calvin Washington, the deputy chief. I know he'd let me go, but whether he'd let both of us go without more warning, I have no idea. But it's worth a try. Here's the plan: We'll both be coming or neither will come. I'm sorry about that. Can you live with the uncertainty?"
"Of course," Jennifer said. "Tell Dr. Washington I'm asking him pretty please to let you guys come."
"That's a good ruse. He's never gotten over your week stay fourteen years ago."
"Neither have I, and I'm finally getting a payoff this June with my M.D. diploma."
"And I'll be there to see you get it," Laurie said. "Now, what about timing? How soon can we get there, presuming we're coming? Do you have any idea?"
"I do," Jennifer said. "Correct me if I'm wrong: It's still Tuesday there."
"It is. It's a little before midnight."
"If you leave tomorrow night, which is Wednesday, you will get here Thursday night late."
"Do you think you can hold them off until we get there? We don't want Granny cremated or embalmed if we are considering an autopsy."
"I'll certainly do my best. Hey, I'll even come to the airport to pick you up."
"We can discuss that when we know for certain we'll be coming."
"Laurie," Jennifer said, just moments before the call was to be terminated, "can I ask you a personal question?"
"Of course."
"Do you think any less of me that I've let all this undoubtedly superfluous stuff overwhelm the grief I feel for Maria? What I mean is that most people would be so overwhelmed by their emotions that they would be incapable of worrying about whether their loved one should be subject to an autopsy or not. Am I weird?"
"Absolutely, totally, one hundred percent no! It's exactly the way I would have responded. Normal people love the person, not the body. The body is a mere receptacle guaranteed to wither and die. The fact that you loved your grandmother to the extent that you are sensitive to issues way beyond the details of dealing with funeral concerns, I believe, is a tribute."