Trifecta (5 page)

Robin knew Julia would be in her brother's room and he
wanted to see her again.  He would not intrude.  He just wanted to understand if
his perceptions about her had been correct.  She was beautiful, granted, but there
was something more that appealed to him than her mere beauty.  Robin believed he
was not so shallow that he responded to loveliness by itself, alone.  He dated attractive
women all the time.  Maybe the feeling was due to the fact that Julia had needed
help yesterday, but he didn't think so.  She could have handled the situation with
her car without his assistance.  He had caught something else that he did not understand
in her personality that drew him. 

From their short acquaintance Robin could tell that Julia
had been raised very strictly, was well educated and probably a bit of a snob, coming
from a wealthy family like his own.  But he thought she was also kind and sweet,
although how he could have surmised that from one meeting was not clear. 

It was an undeniable fact that Robin could have almost
any woman he wanted, so why this one?  He was one of the most eligible single men
in Los Angeles.  Robin decided he could only follow his instincts.

When he got to the correct floor and walked to the front
desk he wasn't stopped, which was surprising.  The nursing station was located in
the center of all of the rooms so that the hospital workers would have quick access. 
It had been abandoned.  As Brian looked around he saw a crowd was clustered around
one room not far down the hallway.  He moved in that direction. 

It was possible to see into all of the rooms on that floor
because the patients were in such fragile condition that the nurses had to be on
watch, even though most patients were also tended to by robotic machines which blinked
lights, beeped and sent medications into veins.  There were blinds for the viewing
windows, but most were open.  Robin could see primarily old people inside the hospital
rooms.  He didn't look at the individuals.  It would have been a violation; the
patients should have privacy when they were so ill.

Robin stood back when he got near the room with all the
activity.  Julia was inside, at the rear.  There were many people around the bed. 
Then almost everyone left the room and he saw Julia leaning over the bed.  She looked
calm.  A doctor was talking to her. 

Julia left the room abruptly and walked rapidly to the
Ladies Room at the end of the corridor.  As Robin followed her he went by Brian's
room, hearing beautiful music from within.  There were displays of gorgeous flowers. 
Julia's touch.  No one else could have done that for her brother.  Robin glanced
in the room as he passed by and saw a nurse covering the body of a young man in
the bed with a sheet.

Oh my God, Robin thought, her brother died, and the poor
thing is all alone.  He ran down the long hallway and stood outside the doorway
of the bathroom.  He didn't know what he would say when she emerged.  He waited
for a couple of minutes, but it seemed much longer.

"Are you a relative?" 

Robin turned and saw a woman dressed in a white doctor's
lab coat.

"I'm Dr. Silters,"  the woman said.  "A
psychiatrist."

She was about fifty years old and looked like the perfect
person for Julia to talk to after such a terrible, traumatic event. 

They shook hands and Robin introduced himself, saying he
was a casual friend.  He admitted he was worried that Julia seemed to be all alone.

"Ms. Monay's grandmother is coming later today.  It
would probably be a good thing for her to see someone she knows before I talk to
her," Dr. Silters said.

"I don't know if..." Robin started. 

The sound of a beeper prevented him from telling the doctor
that he barely knew Julia.  She took out her beeper and studied the number that
was displayed.  "I have an emergency.  I'll be back in a few minutes." 
She turned abruptly and hurried away.

What was this, if not an emergency? Robin was thinking
as Julia stepped out of the bathroom.

He said, "Julia?" and she didn't look up.  She
walked straight up to him, until their toes were touching, and leaned forward until
her whole weight was resting upon him.  He instinctively put his arms around her
and held her. 

Robin stroked her hair, softly, murmuring how sorry he
was.  She didn't seem to be crying.  They stood that way for a long time, with
Julia resting her head against his chest.  Robin didn't know what else to do.  Actually
there was nothing for him to do now, except be there if she needed anything.  He
silently waited, feeling her breathing against him, looking down into beautiful
reddish gold hair which smelled wonderfully clean and fragrant.  He felt sorry and
sad for her, and guilty that he enjoyed holding her.  She was incredibly fragile
and soft at the same time.  There was an overwhelming feeling that he would be glad
to stay here, holding her like this, forever if she needed him.  It wasn't mere
pity.  He wanted to protect her from the terrible ordeal she was going through.

Julia was glad Alexander had come so quickly.  She had
just taken one glance at the highly polished shoes and the pants that went with
an expensive suit, heard him say her name, and went to him immediately.  She felt
comforted and a little surprised that Alexander wasn't talking.  She was glad. 
Julia felt as though she could just stay here in his arms and go to sleep.  She
was exhausted from the emotional trauma and the sleepless night.  The way he was
softly stroking her hair was nice.  She was finally able to feel tears on her cheeks,
but she had to do her grieving alone in private, so she willfully stopped. 

Even through all of the sadness and confusion, there was
something different about Alexander that Julia did not understand.  His feel was
bulkier, somehow.  His voice sounded strangely deep.  And he was doing exactly the
right thing for her, instead of the correct thing by society's standards, which
Alexander always did excessively and to perfection.  Normally, Alexander would be
telling her how she felt, how this was a sad event in her life and how she would
cope in the future.

Alexander was being perfect, right now, in his strength
and in his silence and the way he stroked her hair.

Robin handed Julia a handkerchief and she took it and started
dabbing at her eyes.  She stepped back a little bit and looked up.  She just stood
there, gazing at him for a moment, as though all her thought processes had stopped. 
He could tell she was startled.

"Can I do anything?" Robin asked.

"I thought you were someone else," Julia said,
stepping back.  She had been expecting Alexander.  Then she had hardly  recognized
the mechanic.  It was the suit.  He actually looked very nice.  But she was appalled
that she had walked right up to him, as though she needed to be comforted by a stranger. 
As she studied him she noticed that even his fingernails were clean and buffed.

"I was expecting a friend, and when you said my name..."
Julia said.

"I'm here for you," Robin said sincerely.  He
wondered who the man was that she had been expecting.  Someone she could lean on,
so it was someone she knew well.

"You know what happened?" Julia asked.  She looked
like she might start crying.  Her chin quivered and her eyes were filled with unshed
tears.

Robin nodded.  He felt he was looking into the depths of
profound sadness.  She reminded him of a hurt, sad puppy right now with her large
wet eyes.

They started walking down the hallway and Julia stopped. 
"I don't think I can pass that room again."

"You don't have to," Robin said gently.

"Actually, I'm glad you were here.  The surprise was
a distraction.  The suit and all.  And I must thank you.  For trying to help me
feel better."

Robin knew Julia was speaking by rote, not even thinking,
just behaving politely as her practically inborn social training dictated.  "I
was going to court today and got dressed up.  I stopped at the service station to
see your car.  It will be a while before it's fixed.  Can I take you anywhere?" 
He was trying to take her mind off of the recent event of her brother's death, knowing
that nothing he said would register through the shock, anyway.

Julia stood there shaking her head.  "It hurts so
much and the pain hasn't even started.  I don't think there's any other way to go,
except down this hallway, past Brian's room, to the elevators."

"You're doing fine, Julia," Robin said, taking
her arm gently.  "We can go down the stairs, I think."

"Yes.  I want to leave the hospital right now."

"There's a psychiatrist waiting to talk to you."

"I want to go," she said softly, with emphasis.

They had turned around to leave by the stairwell Exit sign
down at the end of the long corridor, but suddenly there was a surprising amount
of noise coming from the direction of Brian's room.  They both turned.  A whole
group of people were standing outside the room.  A doctor was yelling, a nurse almost
in tears, shaking her head.  Two orderlies were backing away from the doctor's wrath.

"That's Brian's doctor, the one yelling.  Dr. Wilson," 
Julia said.  She didn't much care.  When she had seen him before, Dr. Wilson had
been calm and steady.  Definitely not the type to yell in hallways, upsetting a
whole ward of seriously ill patients.

The woman from the nursing station had left her post to
see what the commotion was about.  As Julia and Robin watched, they saw her expression
change to a look of horror when she went into the room with the doctor.  Since the
rooms had windows, Robin and Julia could see them examining the machinery by the
bed.

Robin didn't want to leave Julia now.  The shrouded figure
of her brother was still on the bed, but if there had been some sort of lethal screw
up, with the machines or by a hospital worker, he had to find out.  Right this minute. 
If he didn't there would be a cover-up.  Hospitals are extremely sensitive about
mistakes.  They would not openly admit there was one, after the fact.  The hospital
managers and lawyers would hem, haw and equivocate.  Especially since Julia's brother
had been in a life-or-death condition to begin with.  Brian might easily have died
from his injuries.  If there was a malfunction of the machinery or human error Robin
had to find out.  Now.  He was a lawyer and it was his business.  Wrongful death. 
It was horrible, tragic, to contemplate.

"You go on down the hallway.  Wait for me by the stairwell. 
I'll be back in a minute," Robin said.  He turned Julia around and gave her
a little push toward the stairs.

Julia turned back to Robin.  "When I left the room,
Brian had begun speaking.  They didn't think he would be able to communicate at
all, from the X-rays.  You don't think...?"

"Go now.  I'll find out," Robin said. 

The hospital employees were so busy explaining to the doctor
where they had been, and the fact that they had not been near that particular hospital
room, that they didn't notice Robin hovering outside the doorway.  Robin's snooping
gleaned several facts.  The oxygen tube had been detached from the ventilator. 
The machines in the room had stopped functioning for a time.  He wondered how long
Julia had been absent from the room.  It sounded like someone had just pulled all
the electrical plugs and then replaced them a few minutes later.

The woman who sat at the nursing station said she had seen
an orderly go into the room, right after Julia left.  But both of the orderlies
on duty said they had been in a supply room down the hall.  A nurse said she could
vouch for the orderlies. 

Who was the man who went into Brian's room alone?

No one could answer that question.

Robin had an awful premonition that this was not a mistake
by a hospital worker or mechanical malfunction.  This was  deliberate sabotage,
which had resulted in death. 

That supposition made Robin wonder if the beating Brian
received five days ago had really been random violence.  His mind leaped at the
shocking conclusion; more likely it had been a murder attempt, which had failed.

A
s Robin stood eavesdropping outside Brian's room,
he noticed another man coming rapidly down the corridor.  He was well dressed, urbane
and dignified with blond hair that was carefully styled to hide an incipient bald
spot.  Robin loathed him on sight.

The blond man was gazing at room numbers and he finally
went into Brian's hospital room.  Everyone quickly stopped talking when the newcomer
entered.

Robin was sure this was the man Julia had mistaken him
for.  Now Dr. Wilson was shaking the blond man's hand.  Robin understood, after
a few moments, the way the two were talking that both were doctors. 

Dr. Wilson explained to the newcomer that his patient,
Brian Monay, had received several lethal blows to the cranium.  He ushered the man
quickly out of the hospital room to go see the chart. 

The cover-up had already begun. 

Robin wondered why the guy wasn't looking for Julia.  He
was going with Dr. Wilson to the nursing station, where they stood together, examining
a chart. 

Doctor Wilson took X-rays out of the chart and was holding
them up to the light, pointing out areas for the other man to study.  Evidently
the blond guy couldn't see the X-rays well enough and he was ushered into a private
room near the central nursing station.

Some nurses and other hospital workers were now staring
suspiciously at Robin from inside Brian's room, probably wondering what he was doing,
loitering outside in the corridor.  He needed to fade the scene. 

As he walked back toward Julia, Robin wished he had a camera. 
Dr. Wilson had taken Julia's doctor friend out of the room very quickly.  The machines
might still show some evidence that they had been tampered with.  But there was
nothing Robin could do.  He certainly didn't have the expertise to understand if
the machines had been interfered with by examining them himself.

As he saw the small, sad figure waiting down the hall,
he thought he had been right to dislike the blond guy at first sight.  The fact
that he would talk to another doctor, before even trying to find Julia, proved to
Robin that this man was very cold.  In Robin's snap judgement he was an arrogant,
pompous, self involved prick.  Probably sporting an enormous God-complex since he
was a physician.

Robin noticed that the psychiatrist, Dr. Silter, had come
out of a doorway in the hallway and was looking around.  Robin knew he wouldn't
have much time to talk to Julia.  But it was urgent.  Dr. Silter would persuade
Julia to speak to her for a few minutes, and then the blond guy would find her.

Robin practically sprinted down the hallway and he reached
Julia first.  He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a card and handed it to her.

"Julia, you should talk to the psychiatrist, Dr. Silter. 
She's coming over here right now.  And the friend you mistook me for is here, now,
too.  But you must call me.  I found out something you need to know.  The hospital
workers won't tell you.  Even Brian's doctor won't tell."

Julia just stood there, studying his face.  He hoped she
was not in shock and would remember what he told her.  "The most important
thing to remember, is to tell no one, absolutely no one, that your brother spoke
to you before his death."

"I don't understand." Julia whispered.  "You're
scaring me."

"Please Julia.  I like you very much and I want you
to be safe.  I may be overreacting, but something's wrong.  Please don't tell anyone
that your brother was speaking to you.  I know this is a hard time.  But please
do as I ask."

"Brian didn't talk to me.  He was dreaming, talking
in his sleep," Julia said.  "I didn't understand anything he said.  Except
about the music.  He heard the music."  She smiled for one brief instant, and
Brian felt his heart do a funny double thump.  She was absolutely radiant with that
brief, melting smile.

"Trust me," Robin urged.  "Put the card
in your purse."

"I did tell, though," Julia said as she slipped
the card into her handbag.  "I was so excited, I ran to the nursing station
and told them."

Oh, hell, Robin thought.  If Brian had been murdered, Julia
could be in big trouble.  "Tell them what you told me.  That you didn't understand
anything."

Julia was nodding.  "I understood the words.  He was
speaking clearly.  But I don't know what they meant."  As she was telling him
this, Julia wondered why she trusted this man.  Maybe she was grasping at straws,
or at anyone who was kind to her in these moments after her brother's death.  But
she also believed her instincts.  Robin, the mechanic, could be trusted.

"I'll do as you say," Julia said, and she saw
the amazing dimples for a moment.  A very appealing man with his sincere blue eyes.

Dr. Silter had come up to them.  She introduced herself
to Julia.  "Ms. Monay, I know this is a very sad time for you.  On top of that
you did not sleep at all last night.  I could give you medication to help you relax."

Julia sighed, "I would give up my life...for five
minutes with Brian.  To say good-by."

"You gave him beautiful music.  And flowers,"
Robin said.  He thought he made a grave mistake.  She looked like she might cry
again.  But the psychiatrist was nodding at him over her head.

"Mr. Chavier is right, Julia.  I'm sure your brother
knew you were there, caring for him at the end."

Robin nodded.  "Your brother took that gift with him,
Julia.  You have my caring and sympathy, too.  I hate to leave now, but I have a
court appointment."  He touched her shoulder and then turned and walked away.

Julia felt a strange, inexplicable sense of loss.  She
tried to focus on Dr. Silter, who was saying that the drug would help her rest,
but Julia knew it wouldn't help.  It might make her forget for a little while, but
then the sledgehammer would drop, with double force, because when she came to, she
would be horribly surprised once again by the awful realization that her brother
had died.  She knew all about mourning.  She had done it at a much younger age,
when her parents had died.  The only dubiously good thing about it is that you did
survive, even if you didn't want to at the time, and the pain dulled after a while. 
In Julia's experience it never went entirely away.

Julia turned around, to look down the corridor for a moment. 
Robin had also stopped to look back at her.  He mouthed, Call me, and then someone
was rushing past him, toward her, and Julia lost sight of Robin. 

It was Alexander, hurrying down the corridor and blocking
her view of the mechanic, whose kind words were still echoing in her mind.  She
didn't want to see Alexander.  One of the main reason's she had come to California
was to get away from him for a while, in the hope that he would find someone else. 
When he was around she felt she was suffocating from excessive and well-bred niceness,
respectability and stupendous boredom.  Everyone she knew seemed to push her toward
him, told her how wonderful he was, and she had gone along with a relationship that
she knew was wrong from the start.  Her grandmother, Charlotte, thought Alexander
was a saint walking the earth.  And he was nice, she reminded herself.  Nice for
a friend.

When he reached her, Alexander did all the things she knew
he would do.  After a while Julia pushed him away.  He was hugging her too tightly
and treating her like a two year old.  She resented it.  Alexander had been telling
her how to think, how to behave, and that this was hurting very badly, but that
it would all go away in time.  Julia knew it wouldn't go away.  She needed to be
alone and examine the fact of her brother's death so that it would finally sink
into her mind and the pain could be experienced.  He wouldn't let her do that with
his incessant talking.  He was insisting that she come with him right now; she needed
to rest and she needed to eat.  The thought of food made her feel like throwing
up.

The rest of the day was a nightmare.  Julia's grandmother,
Charlotte, arrived and almost collapsed when she got the news of Brian's death. 
Normally a bastion of robust strength, she suddenly seemed old and frail. 

Julia had thought she could rely on her grandmother, but
she found herself making all the arrangements for her brother's transfer to Boston,
where the funeral would be held in three days, because Charlotte was immobilized
by the death of her dead daughter's son.  He had been her favorite and Charlotte
had doted on Brian.  Now she was so grief stricken that Julia was very worried.

There was nothing left in California for any of them. 
Alexander made arrangements for a flight back to Boston that evening.  Julia and
Charlotte went to LAX with him, to see him off.  Julia wanted to stay in her room
at the Beverly Hills Hotel by herself, but Charlotte insisted that since Alexander
had been kind enough to come all this way for them, the least they could do was
send him off, back to Boston.

Alexander had to give her a long kiss before he left, in
the crowded terminal where a mob was waiting to board the airliner to Boston.  It
was too wet and took an awfully long time for Alexander to complete.  She felt like
wiping off her mouth after he finished.  The feel of his lips was like a wet slab
of beef on her face.  She was so revolted she almost gagged. 

Julia was embarrassed by the kiss and glanced at Charlotte,
only to see her gazing at them with beneficent approval.

After Alexander's plane finally took off, Julia took the
opportunity to make arrangements for a flight back to Boston for herself and Charlotte
the following day.

When she got to her room at the Beverly Hills Hotel, Julia
was so tired she collapsed on the bed, without taking off her clothing, and was
immediately asleep. 

The next morning, when she rolled over and found herself
on top of the covers, instead of inside them, with all of her clothes on, she finally
started reacting to her emotions.  Yesterday she had faced the fact of death, but
had not experienced it.  Now the real mourning began.

She took off yesterdays wrinkled clothes.  Everything seemed
difficult.  It was laborious even to move and she was so depressed she couldn't
see any sense in going on.  In the shower, as she felt the water flow over her,
uncontrollable bitter tears coursed down her cheeks.  Showers are a good place for
crying.  She couldn't stop so she sat down naked on the porcelain, with the jets
of water pounding on her head and cried for an hour or longer.

Julia wished her car was fixed and ready to drive.  Alone
in a car is a good time to cry, also.  She could have cried herself all the way
back to Boston.  Now though, she would have to make arrangements for the car to
be sent home when it was fixed.

The thoughts of her car led to reflections about the mechanic,
Robin.  She liked him a lot, but Julia decided not to call him.  If there was something
wrong about Brian's death, it was totally irrelevant now.  Nothing could bring him
back.  If there had been a mistake that had hastened his death she would rather
not know.  It would just make her more sad and angry.  Best to let it all go and
deal with the overwhelming sadness of a life without her brother. 

She had read the police reports and had talked to a Sergeant
Riveras on the telephone.  He had told her how Brian had been found by a motorist,
who had been driving by the roadside where Brian had been dumped.  The policeman
said he didn't think Brian was beaten up at the site where he was found, but taken
there later.  There had not been enough blood on the roadside to account for his
injuries.  So her brother had been beaten up in another place and then taken to
East Los Angeles. 

Sergeant Riveras said that the chances of finding the perpetrator
was not very probable in the absence of any evidence.  Since all of Brian's possessions,
his wallet, watch, and even his shoes were missing, they were guessing that it had
been a thief. 

There was evidence of a mighty struggle, because of the
injuries, but any indication of the identity of the attacker was obliterated by
hospital workers later, in a desperate attempt to save Brian's life.  The ambulance
drivers were too rushed and had trampled the site where Brian was discovered.  There
were no clues as to where the beating had taken place or who had done it.

As Julia got out of the shower she was very sad, but that
emotion was almost surmounted by her anger.  Brian had only been twenty-five years
old.  He had his whole life ahead of him.  He had a wonderful career that he loved,
and he had a girlfriend who had loved him.  Someone in this horrible town had killed
him for his watch and some money.

Julia hated Los Angeles.