The Ugly Duckling (8 page)

He was moving toward the door, she realized with relief. He had released her. Her eyes closed.

She was asleep again in minutes.

T
his wing of the hospital was almost deserted. Strictly nine to five, Phil Johnson thought as he strolled down the corridor.

A pretty LPN was coming toward him. She had a fresh face, dark, curly hair, freckles. He loved freckles.

He smiled.

She smiled back and stopped. “Are you lost? This is the administration wing.”

“I was told to drop off these insurance forms.”

“The record office closes at seven.”

He made a face. “Just my luck. Do you work here?”

She nodded. “I’m interning in records now.” She made a face. “I fainted in the emergency room. Personnel thinks I may be suited more to numbers than sutures.”

“Tough,” he said sympathetically. He looked down at the folder he was carrying. “I guess I’ll have to return these to pediatrics and bring them back tomorrow.”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “I’ll let you in. You can put the folder on Truda’s desk.”

“That would be great.” He smiled as he watched her pull a key ring out of her pocket and insert a key into the lock. “I’m Phil Johnson.”

“Pat Dobrey.” She flipped on the light and took the file from him. “I’ll put it in Truda’s in box.”

He watched her from the doorway as she moved across the room. Cute, definitely cute.

She came back toward him and turned out the light.

He took the keys from her. “I’ll do it.” He locked the door, rattled the knob. “That does it.” He handed the keys back to her. “Thanks a lot, Pat. Let me walk you to your car.”

“That’s not necessary.”

He smiled. “No, it’s a pleasure.”

Ten minutes later he was waving a regretful farewell as Pat roared off in her Honda. Sweet girl. Too bad he wouldn’t be here to follow up. He turned and jogged through the parking lot to the hospital.

A few minutes later he let himself into the record office and silently closed the door.

He didn’t bother to turn on the light but moved quickly to the desk and turned on the computer. The screen would furnish all the light he needed and wouldn’t be seen under the door.

The keyboard felt smooth and familiar under his fingers. Too familiar. It was like touching the body of a lover who was always new, always exciting. Get to the job, he told himself.

Since he didn’t have the password, it took him a few minutes to hack his way into the file. No challenge.

Nell Calder.

Her transfer to Woodsdale had already been entered.

Good. He deleted the entry, went to the file cabinet, and pulled the entire paper record on Nell Calder. Not that it would be necessary unless the records were subpoenaed. Computers ruled the world, and a clerk would more likely print out a record from the computer file than dig in the paper files and copy it. But Nicholas had said to be sure.

If the paper file turned up missing, it would only be thought to be misfiled. People made mistakes, not computers.

He returned to the computer, typed in the necessary lines, and exited the program. He sat there, staring at the blank green screen, more alluring than any woman to him. Hey, he was here, surely it wouldn’t hurt to pop into one of the databanks and see what was—

He sighed and turned off the computer. It would hurt. Why else had he gotten rid of the computer in his apartment and taken up nursing? Nicholas had given him a chance and he wouldn’t foul up by giving in to temptation.

He stood up, put the Calder file under his arm, and moved toward the door. He carefully removed the
strong transparent tape he had slid over the lock while Pat was putting the file in the box. It had been a lucky break running into her. Otherwise he would have had to try the collection of master keys in his pocket and run the risk of someone noticing what he was doing.

He turned and took a last wistful look at the computer before he shut the door.

It wasn’t so bad. After all, it wasn’t as if he didn’t like his job. He liked people, and helping them gave him a good feeling. He hoped he could help Nell Calder. Poor lady. She must be in deep hot water, or Nicholas wouldn’t have ordered the entry he had typed into her record.

Patient succumbed to wounds 2:04
P.M
. Body released to John Birnbaum Funeral Home
.

“Is this her picture?” Tania picked up the photograph on top of the open dossier on Joel’s desk. She studied it and then nodded. “I like her. I think she has heart.”

“And how do you come to that conclusion? Her eyes?”

Tania glanced at Nell Calder’s wide-set brown eyes before shaking her head. “Her mouth. It looks … sensitive. Don’t change the mouth.”

“It’s too big for perfect symmetry.”

“Symmetry is cold. If I were her, I would not like to look cold.”

No danger, Joel thought. “I thought I was going to create this Galatea?”

“Do you wish me to go away?” she asked, disappointed.

“No.” He smiled and pulled up a chair for her at the desk. “You might as well help me I’m not getting any input from her.”

“Poor lady. The first pain is the hardest. When my parents and little brother died, I wanted to die too.”

It was the first time she had talked about the death
of her family. He turned to face her. “Did they die together?”

“No, my father was a soldier. My mother and brother were killed in the streets by snipers a year later. They were on their way to fetch water for us.” She looked down at the picture of Nell. “It’s the loneliness and helplessness that are worst. When everything is taken away, it’s hard to find a reason to live.”

“And what reason did you find?”

“Anger. I wouldn’t let them have the satisfaction of killing me too.” She smiled with an effort. “And then I found you, and my life had purpose again.”

He was too moved. He hastened to back away. “Saving me from the sins of caffeine?”

“Among other things.” She tapped the picture with her forefinger. “You must find a purpose for her.”

“First I have to find a face for her.” He pulled up the image program in the computer and Nell’s face appeared on the screen. He picked up the computer pen and bent over the computer drawing tablet beside the screen. “Cheekbones?”

“High.”

His pen stroked upward on the pad and on the screen Nell suddenly acquired higher cheekbones. “Enough?”

“A little more.”

He moved the cheekbones higher.

“Good.” She frowned. “That turned-up nose must go. Personally, I like it, but it doesn’t go with the cheekbones.”

He got rid of the nose and inserted a delicate Roman nose. “Okay?”

“Maybe, we’ll see.”

“The mouth …”

“I want to keep the mouth.”

“Then we’ll have to square the jaw.” He adjusted the line of the jaw. “The eyes?”

She tilted her head. “Can we slant them upward just a little. Like Sophia Loren?”

“It will require stitches.”

“But it would be very interesting, yes?”

His pen changed the shape of the wide-set eyes. The change was enormous. The face on the screen now appeared strong, cleanly molded, and vaguely exotic. Yet the wide, mobile mouth gave a look of vulnerability and sensuality. It was not a classically beautiful face, but it fascinated and arrested.

“A little Sophia Loren, a little Audrey Hepburn …” Tania murmured. “But I think we must work on the nose.”

“Because I did it without your input?” he asked dryly.

“Because it’s a little too delicate.” She leaned forward, her gaze on the computer screen. “We are doing well. This is a face to launch a thousand ships.”

“Helen of Troy? Our Nell doesn’t look like a Greek goddess to me.”

“I never thought Helen of Troy looked like a goddess. I think she had a face that was unforgettable, that made people want to never look away from her. That’s what we must do here.”

“And what happens after we give her this face?” He turned to look at her. “A change that dramatic can traumatize.”

“From what you tell me, she’s already traumatized. I doubt if turning into Helen of Troy will do any more harm to her, and it may help her.” She said, “If she has no purpose, she will at least have a weapon. This is important.”

“Is that why you let me operate on you?”

She nodded. “The scars did not matter to me, but I knew it would matter to the people around me. I have my living to earn, and people shy away from ugliness.”

He smiled. “I suppose I could make her look like you. It’s not such a bad face.”

“It’s a very good face, but it would cause problems when I get you to admit that you cannot live without me. You’re confused enough as it is. No, we will give her this wonderful face to smooth her way.” She nodded at the pen. “Now, let’s see if we can make the nose just a
little
thicker.”

N
icholas met Joel as he was exiting Nell’s hospital room the next evening.

“Don’t talk to me,” Joel said curtly. He waved the clipboard. “The permission-to-operate authorization.”

“She didn’t sign it?”

“She signed it. I told her precisely what I was going to do. I showed her a computer readout of exactly what she would look like. I’m not sure she heard a word I said. I know she didn’t care.” He ran his hand through his hair. “You know that she may sue me when all this is over?”

Nicholas shook his head. “She won’t sue you.”

“How do you know? She’s a zombie, dammit.”

“I promise you. I’ll protect you from all ramifications, legal or personal.”

“Really? Kabler called again today.”

“Next time have your secretary refer him to the St. Joseph’s administration office.”

“Why?”

“Because Nell Calder died yesterday afternoon.”

“What?” Joel stared at him, stunned. “My God, what have you done?”

“Nothing for which you can be blamed,” Nicholas said. “Just continue to refuse to talk to Kabler. If he checks with administration, he’ll find that she died of wounds and was removed to a local funeral home.”

“And if he checks with the funeral home?”

“They’ll have record of her cremation. Her obituary will appear in the paper tomorrow.”

“When I told you to take care of it, I didn’t mean—You can’t do things like this.”

“It’s already done.”

“And what do you think Nell Calder will say about her demise?”

“When it’s safe, she can say that ‘reports of her death were greatly exaggerated.’ ”

“Safe?”

“She wasn’t one of the innocent bystanders. She was targeted. She may still be in danger.”

“Christ. I don’t suppose you considered telling me what I was getting into?”

“I considered it, but it would only have made your decision harder.” He smiled. “And the decision would still have been the same, wouldn’t it?”

“So you kept me in the dark to save me from undue worry,” he said sarcastically.

“Well, and to save myself from hearing your arguments. Isn’t a fait accompli much simpler?”

“It is not.”

“Of course it is.”

“The records show I was the attending physician. I’m the one who will be blamed for falsifying them.”

Nicholas shook his head. “I have the original authorization of transfer signed by you. If you need it, I’ll produce it.”

“If it suits your convenience.”

“No.” Nicholas met his gaze. “I promised to protect you. I’ll keep my word, Joel.”

Joel stared at him moodily. He knew Nicholas would keep his promise, but it didn’t improve his temper. “I don’t like to be manipulated.”

“I didn’t manipulate you. I manipulated the records.”
He glanced at the clipboard with the permission slip. “And you’re not really angry at me, you’re worried about your patient. She’s no better?”

“She’s close to catatonic,” Joel said. “I can do only so much. What the hell good is a new face going to do her if she ends up in an institution?”

“We won’t let that happen to her.”

“You bet your ass we won’t.” He stabbed a finger at Nicholas. “And I won’t be alone in this. You’re not running back to Idaho. You’re staying right here on call. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Do you mind if I stay at a hotel in town? I’m allergic to hospitals.”

“As long as you’re on call.”

Nicholas held up his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say.”

“Yeah, sure.” Joel strode away from him down the corridor.

Bellevigne, France

“You blundered,” Philippe Gardeaux said softly. “I don’t like mistakes, Paul.”

“I didn’t expect her to fight so hard.” Paul Maritz scowled. “And I thought the fall would kill her.”

“You wouldn’t have had to rely on the fall if you had done your job correctly. One stroke should have done it. You indulged yourself, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” he said sulkily.

“And you killed the child. How many times must I tell you that you never kill children or animals? For some reason, it arouses more anger than if you slaughter a hundred adults.”

“She ran at me after her mother fell. She was hitting me.”

“And you had to defend yourself against a four-year-old,” Gardeaux said dryly.

“She might have recognized me. It was the second time. She saw me that afternoon in the caves.”

“You had goggles and a mask on,” Gardeaux said. “I don’t like excuses. Now, admit that you were frustrated and needed to strike out at something, and I’ll forgive you.”

“I guess I … maybe I was mad,” he mumbled.

“Now, wasn’t that easy?” Gardeaux leaned back in his chair and lifted his wine to his lips. “Just admit your faults and everything goes well. The child was a mistake but not a consequential one. The woman has been taken to a hospital in the States and will live. You’ll have to rectify that prognosis if you think she may recognize you now.” He paused. “She was taken there by Nicholas Tanek. I hardly think it a coincidence that he was there on Medas. Which leads me to the conclusion that we might have an informant in our midst. Do you suppose that you could seek out and eliminate that informant without making another blunder?”

Maritz nodded eagerly.

“I hope so,” Gardeaux said gently. “This is very distressing to me. If you should disappoint me again, I’d have to find a way to distract myself.” He covered a yawn. “How do you think your knife would fare against Pietro’s sword?”