Page 80 of Death on Riddle Road
“Mixed.Decidedly mixed.”Rose looked at Clara.“You might be too young to have recognized the divisions that investigation and trial caused, but not to see that Derrick going to prison did not end the divisions.”
“Fissures,” Clara murmured.
“Yes,” the older woman said.
I jumped in.“The administration had to know that, didn’t they?Or are they not from here?”
“They’re from here,” she said a little grimly.
“Then why accept him as a patient?Seems like a lot of downsides.The real threat of discord among the staff, not to mention a PR nightmare.”
“When we — the senior staff — were informed, we were also told that the administration was confident we would put the needs and comfort of the patient ahead of all else, as was our professional obligation.”
In other words, the managers used their professionalism against them to stymie any complaints.
“As for the public relations having a negative impact, the administration counted on the staff adhering to our ethical obligation not to discuss patients, even the fact of someone being here.They accepted him only after prison officials agreed to keep it quiet that he was in our care.They did not want the word to get out.Theydidwant the state stipend.They’ll still get the stipend.”
That was her understated way of saying they would not get what they wanted as far as the word not getting out.That word was out —wayout — the words weren’t good, and she didn’t mind one little bit.
I wondered which side of the He-did-it-He-didn’t-do-it fissure she occupied.
“Did they put in any precautions?Security?”Clara asked.
“No.They and the prison official declared no added security was required because they rated him at twenty to thirty percent, when his other main caretaker and I considered him thirty to forty percent.”
“That’s how they grade patients for palliative care,” Clara said to me.
“The Palliative Performance Scale,” Rose said.“It assesses patients on self-care, intake, ambulatory status, activity, and consciousness.There was no question Derrick’s disease was quite advanced.At the same time, he was largely bedridden, he had consciousness, though sleeping more.”
“How long do you think he could have lived?In your professional opinion.”Perhaps seeing resistance in Rose Gleiner, Clara quickly added, “A range, say.”
“It is never completely predictable,” she started.Then she narrowed her eyes, considering.“I would not have been surprised at all to have had him as a patient for another two weeks to a month.”
Clara and I exchanged a look.
“So, you must have been surprised when you found him dead.”
“Very.”
And immediately suspicious, her tone indicated.
“Did you try lifesaving measures?”I asked.Better I draw any ire that might attach to that question, while Clara remained the good...cop is what comes to mind, but really, she’s more like Glinda, the Good Witch, as played by Billie Burke inThe Wizard of Oz.
Which, I suppose, makes me the Wicked Witch of the West.
I could live with that if it produced more information.
“The DNR required me not to,” she said carefully.“I confirmed that he was dead but did not otherwise compromise the scene.”
“You considered it a crime scene from the beginning?”Clara asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I am not at liberty to say.”
“The sheriff’s department asked you not to?”I asked.
