Foreign Body (21 page)

Kashmira had watched as Jennifer navigated her way through the people in the lobby.

Never had Kashmira been more aggravated by a next of kin. When she'd been able to talk the woman into coming to India, she'd thought the problem of Maria Hernandez's body was essentially over; now it was ascending to another level of urgency, with not one but two forensic investigators on their way to lend their thoughts. Kashmira knew that CEO Rajish Bhurgava was not going to be happy.

The second Jennifer exited from the lobby Kashmira walked out of her office and down the hall to where Rajish's corner office was located.

"Is he available?" Kashmir questioned Rajish's private secretary.

"I believe so," the secretary said. "But he's not in a good mood." She checked, using the intercom, and then waved Kashmira by as another call came in on an outside line.

Between calls, Rajish was reading over a stack of letters and then signing them with his rapid scrawl. In contrast to his casual cowboy outfits he wore when called in at night, he was wearing a Western designer suit, white shirt, and Gucci tie.

"Did she come back this afternoon?" Rajish demanded when Kashmira shut his office door and approached his desk. Over the lunch hour she had briefed him about Jennifer's intransigence that morning and how self-willed she was, but had ended by saying she was optimistic Jennifer would be more reasonable after some sleep. She'd also conveyed to Rajish Jennifer's brief talk of an autopsy. This new information had provoked Rajish to comment irritably that there would be no autopsy under any circumstances. He added that the last thing he wanted to do was take the risk of some true pathology's being found that should have been known before the surgery. Kashmira also had told him that Jennifer had brought up the name of Benfatti, and Rajish had questioned how Jennifer had learned about the death. Kashmira had confessed she had no idea. All in all, Rajish was no fan of Jennifer Hernandez.

"She just left," Kashmira said with a nod in answer to Rajish's question.

"And?" Rajish snapped. With a second death in so many nights, he was in a foul mood.

Once again the night before he'd been called by the powerful Ramesh Srivastava and informed that CNN International had reported another death at Rajish's hospital before the hospital had called him. Although the highly placed public servant hadn't actually threatened Rajish directly, the implication of blame had been uncomfortably clear.

"It's getting worse, I'm afraid. She now says that she wants to wait until Friday before making a decision. Apparently, the dead woman worked for someone who has subsequently become a forensic pathologist. This forensic pathologist is apparently arriving tomorrow night."

Rajish slapped a hand to his forehead and forcibly rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. "This can't be happening," he moaned.

"It gets worse. The woman is bringing her husband, and he is also a forensic pathologist."

In a minor panic, Rajish lowered his hand and stared at Kashmira. "We'll be dealing with two American forensic specialists?"

"It appears that way."

"Did you make it absolutely clear to Ms. Hernandez that there will be no autopsy?"

"I did, both this morning and this afternoon. It's my understanding that the reason that this woman who is on her way is a forensic pathologist is incidental to why she is coming. So we shouldn't jump to conclusions."

Rajish tipped back in his chair until he was looking directly up at the ceiling. "What did I do to deserve these problems? All I'm trying to do is keep it all out of the media beyond the initial CNN segments."

"In that regard, things are still quiet. There's been no media people here yesterday or today."

"Thank the gods for small favors, but that might change at any moment, especially now with two deaths."

"Ms. Hernandez is potentially interfering in that situation also."

There was a loud squeak as Rajish suddenly tipped forward and gaped at Kashmira.

"How is she managing that?"

"Somehow the widow and she got together. Lucinda Benfatti called back a little while ago to reemphasize that she, too, doesn't want her husband's body touched until her sons get here Friday. As you know from last night she'd already said that, but both of us thought the chances were good that she'd change her mind today when I spoke with her.

No deal. In fact, she mentioned Jennifer's forensic pathologist friends coming, and that she'd asked Jennifer if her friends could look at her husband's case as well. If the media get wind of this, they might jump on it."

Rajish slammed his palm down on his desk. Several of the letters waiting to be read swooped off into the air. "This woman is a scourge spreading her stubbornness to others.

I worry this situation is rapidly growing beyond our capability to keep it under wraps.

Most people who are grieving are too emotionally paralyzed to cause trouble. What is wrong with this Hernandez girl?"

"She's self-willed, as I mentioned," Kashmira agreed.

"Is she spiritual?"

"I haven't any idea. She's not said anything to make me think one way or the other. Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking that if she were spiritual, we could tempt her with her grandmother's body."

"How so?"

"Offer to have it cremated at the world-famous burning ghats of Varanasi and the ashes placed in the Ganges."

"But that is a privilege reserved for Hindus."

Rajish made a gesture as if swatting a fly. "Some extra consideration for the Brahmin of the Ghats of Jalore would solve that issue. Perhaps Ms. Hernandez could be tempted. It could be touted as an extra favor to the departed. We could offer it to Mrs. Benfatti as well."

"I'm not optimistic," Kashmira said. "Neither strikes me as particularly religious, and being cremated in Varanasi only has true meaning for Hindus. Yet I'll give it a try. The Hernandez girl herself admitted she might think differently after she'd gotten some sleep. She is exhausted and suffering jet lag. Maybe such a bribe would push her over the edge."

"We must get these bodies out of that cafeteria cooler," Rajish emphasized. "Especially with the hospital currently under observation by the International Joint Commission. We can't afford to fail for such an incidental violation. Meanwhile, I will give Ramesh Srivastava a call back and report we are having a particularly difficult time with the Hernandez woman."

"I have tried my best with her, I assure you. I've been very direct. More so than with any other next of kin."

"I know you have. The problem is we have limited resources. That's not the situation with someone like Ramesh Srivastava. He has the weight of the entire Indian bureaucracy behind him. If he so desired, he could even keep the two forensic friends of Ms. Hernandez out of the country."

"I'll keep you informed of any changes," Kashmira said, as she turned to go.

"Please do," Rajish said, with a brief wave. He used his intercom to ask his secretary to get Mr. Ramesh Srivastava on the line. He wasn't looking forward to it. He knew how powerful Srivastava was and how he could get Rajish fired with a snap of his fingers.

Chapter 16

OCTOBER 17, 2007

WEDNESDAY, 3:15 P.M.

NEW DELHI, INDIA

It had not been a good day for Ramesh Srivastava. Starting the moment he got into his office in the morning, the deputy secretary of state for health had called to tell him that the secretary of state for health was furious about the second CNN International segment being aired concerning India's nascent medical tourism industry. Then the calls had never stopped. They came from half a dozen joint secretaries of the Ministry of Health and Family Welfare, the president of the Indian Healthcare Federation, and even the secretary of state for tourism, all reminding him that he happened to be presiding over the department of medical tourism when it was experiencing the most negative international PR that it had ever experienced. All the callers also reminded him that they had the power to end his career if he didn't do something and do it fast. The problem was, he didn't know what to do. He'd tried to figure out how CNN International was getting the tips, but without success.

"A Mr. Rajish Bhurgava is online at this moment," Ramesh's secretary said as Ramesh came through his office door, returning from his three-hour lunch. Ramesh dashed into his inner office and snatched the receiver off the hook. "Have you found the leak?" he demanded straight off.

"Just a moment," Rajish's secretary said. "I'll put Mr. Bhurgava on."

Ramesh silently cursed as he flopped down in his desk chair. He was a large balding man with watery eyes and deep scars on his cheekbones from adolescent acne. He tapped his fat, impatient fingers on his desk. As soon as Rajish Bhurgava came on the line, Ramesh blurted out the question again and with equal emotion.

"We haven't," Rajish admitted. "I've spoken yet again at length with the chief of the medical staff. We still believe the most likely culprit is one of the academic doctors who also have admitting privileges here for their relatively few private patients. We know some of them are rabidly against the government's granting us the incentives and tax breaks it has at the expense of adequately funding the control of communicable diseases in rural areas. What he's doing now is trying to see if any of the most outspoken ones were here in the hospital both Monday night and last night."

"What does he say about the deaths themselves?" Ramesh grumbled. "Two in two nights is intolerable. What are you people doing wrong? With CNN beaconing these fatalities around the world seven or eight times a day, you have essentially negated six months of our ad campaign, especially in America, our biggest target."

"I asked him the same question. He's entirely baffled. Neither patient had warning symptoms or signs, either from their home doctors or during our admitting tests."

"Did they have cardiograms here preoperatively?"

"Yes, of course they had cardiograms, and both arrived with clean reports from American cardiologists. Our chief of the medical staff said that even in retrospect there would have been no way to predict what happened. Both surgeries and postoperative courses were without incident."

"What about the problem with the Hernandez girl? Has that at least been taken care of?"

"I'm afraid not," Rajish admitted. "She's not decided on the disposition of the body, and she now has begun talking about possibly wanting an autopsy done."

"Why?"

"We're not entirely certain other than her belief that her grandmother's heart was in fine shape."

"I don't want an autopsy," Ramesh stated categorically. "There's no way it could help us.

If the autopsy were to be clean, they wouldn't use it to exonerate us because there's no story, and if the autopsy shows pathology we should have known about, they would crucify us. No, there is to be no autopsy."

"To complicate things, Ms. Hernandez has apparently contacted a former client of the deceased, and she and her husband, both of whom are forensic pathologists, are on their way and will be in Delhi on Friday."

"Good grief," Ramesh said. "Well, if they make formal application for an autopsy, make sure it is taken by one of the magistrates we are accustomed to dealing with."

"I'll do my best," Rajish said. "But perhaps with your connections you might question whether we want them here at all."

"I would need more warning. Otherwise, they get stopped only at the airport, and that, in and of itself, could cause a media problem if it gets associated with the already notorious private hospital deaths reported by CNN. A free media is such a bore, and they love these gossipy-type stories."

"There's one other way that the Hernandez girl is causing mischief. She had seemingly sought out the Benfatti woman this morning and convinced her to delay giving us permission to dispose properly of her husband's body in the same way she is denying us access to her grandmother's."

"No!" Ramesh exclaimed with disbelief.

"I'm afraid so. I'm beginning to think as I hear from my case manager that she is deliberately trying to cause trouble. I'm even beginning to believe she's starting to become paranoid and hold us accountable, as if we have caused this tragedy deliberately."

"That's it, then," Ramesh said. "We cannot let this go on."

"Is there something you can do, sir?" Rajish asked hopefully.

"Perhaps," Ramesh said. "We cannot sit passively and let this woman have free rein until her paranoia is somehow satisfied."

"I couldn't agree more."

"Keep me informed of any and all developments," Ramesh said.

"Absolutely," Rajish answered.

Ramesh hung up the receiver and turned to the keyboard at his workstation. Going into his address book, he found the mobile number of Inspector Naresh Prasad of the New Delhi police, who headed up the small, clandestine Industrial Security Unit. Picking the phone receiver back up, he placed the call. Since the men hadn't spoken in almost six months, they traded some personal information before Ramesh got around to the reason for the call. "We here at the department of medical tourism have a problem that needs your expertise."

"I'm listening," Naresh said.

"Is this a good time to talk?"

"It doesn't get much better."

"There is a young woman named Jennifer Hernandez, whose grandmother passed away Monday night at the Queen Victoria Hospital of an unfortunate heart attack. Somehow CNN got ahold of the story and put it on the air as a way of questioning our record of safety."

"That's not good."

"That is an understatement," Ramesh said. He then went on to tell Naresh the entire problem, including the details of the second death. He then enumerated all the things that Jennifer had done and was doing to make herself persona non grata. "This affair is beginning to have a serious deleterious effect on our medical tourism ad campaign, which could then impact our ability to meet our goals. I don't know if you have been kept completely up to date, but we have upped our estimates such that Indian medical tourism is to be a two-point-two-billion-dollar-a-year industry by 2010."