Notorious D.O.C. (Hope Sze medical mystery) (38 page)

In the far half, wedged between the
bench and the lockers, I spotted a pair of men’s leather shoes. The feet
sprawled away from each other. The scuffed gray soles of the shoes pointed
toward me.

Dr. Dupuis crouched at the man’s
head, blocking my view of the top, but someone had yanked the man’s charcoal
T-shirt up to his armpits, exposing his white belly and chest, above his brown
leather belt and khaki pants.

A black woman in a white coat pressed
her fingers against the side of the man’s throat. “There’s no pulse.”

“I’ll start CPR!” I yelled, running
toward them. I’d only ever seen one code blue, on a sick patient in the
emergency room who didn’t make it. I’d never heard of a code in a men’s room.
We didn’t even have gloves. Mouth-to-mouth wasn’t my first choice.

I knelt on the cold tile floor, my
arms extended, hands laced, and braced to do CPR. Then I finally saw the man’s
face.

His features were mottled purple,
his filmy eyes fixed half-open, his jaw hanging open under his moustache.

I knew this man. Or at least, I used
to.

Medicine can be murder.

Code
Blues

 
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005HISZ2A

Terminally Ill

the third Hope Sze novel

“Entertaining and insightful.” –Publishers Weekly

"Narrating in a sprightly style while sharing some of the
nitty-gritty of a resident's job, Hope Sze is an utterly likeable character.”
–Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine

A Kobo Top 50 eBook

The Editor’s Pick at Kobo Next

Magic? Dr. Hope Sze steers clear of magic.

But when “Elvis the Escape King” chains and
nails himself inside a coffin and lowers himself into Montreal’s St. Lawrence
River, he can’t break free.

So Hope restarts his heart and saves his life.
But now Elvis demands to know who sabotaged his stunt.

Hope hung up her amateur detective badge two
months ago in order to tend to cancer patients on palliative care. The only
cases she solves right now are case studies on pain and over-stuffed emergency
rooms.

Which gets just the tiniest bit boring.

Hope could escape Montreal any day now. She
could transfer to Ottawa to join her ex-paramour, Ryan. No more unspeakable
Montreal drivers and stymied medical care. No more working with the charming
yet infuriating Dr. Tucker.

Hope the Escape Artist can afford to act
generous. As parting gift to Montreal, city of festivals (and murderers), she
could help Elvis out. Just asking a few questions won’t hurt anyone.

Right?

And so Hope plunges into her most unconventional
and, possibly, her most terminal adventure yet. Where the magical  art of
escape and the dastardly art of crime vie for centre stage, and the better man
may lose. Forever. 

Terminally Ill

“The best yet.” –G. Smith,
M.D.