Black Karma (19 page)

“It's Bai Jiang. If you don't get down here fast, I'm going to spill the beans on the friend you met yesterday at Figaro's. He tried to kill Lee. Unless you want this story to go public, get your ass down here and fix this mess.”

“Hold on,” he said. “Let me clear my head and get this straight. You say he tried to kill Lee?”

“Twice.”

“That doesn't make any friggen sense,” he replied. “Listen, don't do anything stupid. I'm on my way. Don't talk to anybody. And fer Christ's sake, don't say anything about the man you just mentioned. You got that?”

“I hear you, but make it fast. Your friend hasn't been subtle in his attempts to kill Lee. This time, he had a lot of witnesses. This mess won't go away on its own.”

She closed the connection and dropped her phone into her coat pocket. As she looked around, she could see the intensive care unit was starting to fill with concerned doctors and bewildered guards. Nobody seemed to be in charge.

“If you don't have a mask on, go put one on. If you don't have a good reason to be in here, get the hell out,” she ordered in a loud voice.

Several people turned around to look at her with stunned expressions before heading for the exit. Song passed them en route from the opposite direction with his surgical mask in place. A man in a white lab coat stepped over to check on Lee while Song took up a position at the foot of the bed to watch. She recognized the doctor as Lee's surgeon from the night before.

He talked calmly as he fidgeted with the drains and checked Lee's catheter bag. “I heard there was a ruckus in here.”

“Yes,” she replied. “I've called the police. They're on the way. How is my friend?”

“He's doing much better. His fever is down, and there's no blood in his urine. The drains are clear. We should be able to take them out later today.”

“How long before he can be discharged?”

“I'd like to keep him another day or two to make sure there aren't any more complications or infections. His wounds were deep. He's going to be in a lot of pain for the next couple of days.”

“I'd like him moved to a private room where he can be guarded.”

The doctor looked speculatively from her to Song standing at the foot of the bed with his back to them. “That shouldn't be a problem. Frankly, I'd be surprised if administration doesn't insist on it.”

A man in a dark suit, accompanied by a uniformed hospital guard, approached the bed. Both wore surgical masks. The suit spoke but didn't offer his hand. “My name is Walter Flag. I'm a hospital director. This is our head of security, Captain Saunders.”

A portly man of about sixty with graying temples and manicured nails, Flag wore an expensive suit. Saunders seemed about the same age but taller and leaner. He had somber brown eyes that scrutinized her closely. Their masks concealed their expressions.

Saunders picked up where Flag left off. He spoke in a guarded tone. “We'd like you to explain what happened here. We understand from the nurses a confrontation between you and a gentleman occurred where you brandished knives and a gun.”

“Inspector Kelly of SFPD is on the way. I won't waste time telling the story twice. I will tell you someone masquerading as a doctor attempted to kill one of your patients. With that in mind, I think it's probably best to handle this quietly.”

The two men looked at each other as the surgeon quietly slipped away, obviously wanting no part of their problem. Flag spoke to Saunders in a voice pitched loud enough for eavesdroppers who stood nearby to hear. “I'll leave this in your capable hands, Captain Saunders. If you need me, I'll be in my office.”

The captain's eyes hardened. Flag turned on his heel and strutted from the room while Saunders watched him leave with poorly concealed contempt.

“Some days are just like that,” she said in sympathy.

He looked at her in stark appraisal. “Do I need to worry about whether or not this counterfeit doctor is coming back?”

“In a word . . . yes.”

His arms crossed defensively as he looked at Lee and then at Song. The surgical mask made it difficult to determine his disposition, but “unhappy” seemed the most likely candidate.

“While we're waiting for the police,” she asked, “whom do I see about having my friend moved to a private room? I'll provide security for him. That'll be one less problem for you.”

Saunders turned to meet her gaze. “We have VIP rooms, if you don't mind paying.”

“Done,” she replied.

He nodded in response and pushed a button on a square, black communication device attached to an epaulet on his shoulder. He gave instructions to prepare a VIP room for Lee and to refer any issues with the change of rooms to Director Flag.

As Saunders finished his conversation, Inspector Kelly crashed through the doors and into ICU. Song reached inside his jacket. Bai stepped forward and put out a hand to restrain the triad soldier. The notion of allowing Song to shoot Kelly proved tempting, but she needed the inspector.

“Who's in charge here?” Kelly blustered while rocking back on his heels.

She could plainly see he was still drunk. Reeking of alcohol, he obviously hadn't had time to cast off the dregs from the night before. She nodded at Song to stay put then gestured to Captain Saunders to follow her. She walked toward Kelly while pointing out the door. “Let's take it outside, Kelly. There are sick people in here, and you're carrying enough germs to bring an army to its knees.”

Kelly raised a hand in protest as he turned to follow her. He appeared exasperated. “Don't bother asking what I think,” he mumbled. “I'm only the friggen police.”

They walked through the double doors and into the hallway with Saunders bringing up the rear. Once in the corridor, she removed her mask and turned to confront Kelly angrily. “I don't know what you've been swilling, but it seems to have addled your brain. I'm not even a little bit interested in what you think. I'm worried about Lee. I want to know what's going on, and I want to know now!”

He threw up his hands in frustration. “We can't talk here. This place is too public.”

Saunders removed his mask, so Bai could clearly see the deep scowl etched on his face. He asked a pointed question of Kelly. “Do you know who the assailant is?”

Kelly waved his hands frantically and shook his head. “You don't understand,” he replied in a defeated voice. “I don't have the slightest idea who he is. I swear on my mother's grave I don't know. That's assuming you're talking about who I think you're talking about. What I need to know is did anyone get hurt? Do I need to file a report?”

“A nurse received a superficial neck wound,” Saunders answered. “She seemed pretty badly shaken by the incident. I'm willing to downplay the event as violent behavior by an unstable individual.” He turned his gaze on Bai. “We don't want any rumors being spread about doctors trying to kill patients.”

“That's fine with me,” she said, “as long as Lee is protected and gets the best of care. That's my only concern.”

“We'll get him moved immediately to a private room,” Saunders said. “While that's taking place, I'll interview the nurse myself. There's no sense in subjecting her to even more trauma.”

Kelly turned to Bai and asked, “So why am I here? Did you get me out of bed to run down here so you can call me a drunk? You could've done that over the phone.”

“Your job is to make sure that SFPD doesn't show up to interrogate anyone.”

“I am SFPD,” Kelly countered in frustration.

“That's exactly my point. You're my personal SFPD. I can reason with you. If some newbie detective were to show up and sniff out a chance to make a headline, we'd all have our pictures in the paper. Nobody here wants that. Right?”

Two heads nodded in agreement.

“So we keep a lid on this assault. It's better for everybody,” she said.

“How is it better for you?” Kelly asked.

She glared at him. “I don't want the tan man to know I'm coming for him.”

“Jeezus!” Kelly cried. “Why can't you just leave well enough alone? You pick at a scab, and it'll bleed. You keep pickin' at that man, and you'll be the one bleedin',” he said as he shook his head in frustration.

“Why don't you get some coffee and wait for the report from Captain Saunders?” Bai suggested. “Make your call downtown or whatever you have to do to bury this fiasco. I'll stay with Lee until he's settled. Then you and I, Kelly, will sit down to have a nice little chat.”

“Fine, fine, fine . . .” Kelly replied. “You do that.”

She frowned at Kelly, who nodded in acquiescence while waving her away with a flick of his fingers. With misgivings, she left the two men standing in the corridor and walked back to the intensive care unit. Still standing where she'd left him at the foot of Lee's bed, Song scrutinized anyone who came into the ICU. Nurses chanced nervous glances in his direction but quickly averted their eyes.

Two orderlies wearing blue scrubs followed Bai into the room. The attendants unhooked Lee from the monitors, then she and Song followed his bed up to the sixth floor where a pristine suite of rooms waited. The main room boasted a good view of the city through picture windows. Blond furniture and a big-screen television on the wall provided a comfortable setting for both the patient and his visitors. The orderlies rolled the bed over to the window, where they hooked Lee up to another set of monitors. A nurse marched into the room to make sure everything was in order. She checked his vital signs and output bags before nodding deferentially to Bai then leaving.

Bai walked over to stand next to his bed and pressed her hand against his cheek. He looked peaceful but pale. “May all your dreams be joyful,” she whispered, “and may all your angry shades be gentled and laid to rest.”

She kissed him on the forehead and smoothed his hair back, grateful he lived.

Chapter 23

Four very large men wearing black suits over black tee-shirts walked into Lee's private room. Hardware bulged under their suit jackets. Bai reached into her pockets, and Song tensed with his hand inside his jacket.

About six feet tall, the shortest of the men spoke. “We're from Axis Security to see Bai Jiang. Jason Lum contracted for our services—a four-man detail for around-the-clock protection.”

“All four of you came to guard him at once?” Bai asked curiously.

The men smiled.

“No ma'am,” the original speaker said. “This is just a meet and greet, so you'll know who we are. We'll rotate on four six-hour shifts. Two of us will be in the room at all times. If there's a reason one of us can't make a shift, you'll be notified in advance.”

“I see.”

The speaker turned to his team and nodded. Two of the men turned to walk out of the room, while he opened his jacket to move away from the door and place his back against a wall. Standing with his hand inside his jacket, he had a clear shot at anyone coming through the entry. The other guard assumed a similar stance on the other side of the room.

Bai walked back to Lee's bed to put her hand on his forehead. His skin felt cool to the touch. As she withdrew her hand, his eyes blinked open.

A moment or two later, he recognized her. “Where am I?”

“You're in San Francisco General.”

“What am I doing here?”

He reached for one of the drains on the side of his chest. She stopped his hand.

“You've been shot,” she said softly. “The tan man put two holes in your back. Don't worry. The doctors say you're going to be fine. You just need a couple of days to rest and take it easy.”

“Who's the tan man?”

“The tan man in the gray suit you were following.”

He seemed to have difficulty remembering. Meeting her gaze, he asked, “Water?”

She poured water from a plastic pitcher and put a straw in the cup before holding the plastic tube up to his lips. He sipped slowly then shook his head.

“It hurts,” he complained.

“I imagine it does. The good news is the shooter used a twenty-two, so the scars will be small.”

“I guess that's good news,” he said half-heartedly. “What are the tubes for?”

“They're drains. The doctor is going to take them out later today. It'll be something to look forward to.”

“For you or for me?”

She smiled.

“I dreamt a naked man jumped up and down on my chest,” he said.

“Why was he naked?”

“All the men in my dreams are naked.”

She smiled at his attempt at humor. “I can tell you're feeling better.”

“Do you suppose you could get them to give me some more drugs?”

“Why? Are you in pain?”

“I could be if that's the right answer.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

She pushed the call button for assistance. When the nurse came into the room, she glanced warily at the men standing around with their hands in their jackets. The woman had a pinched face with hair parted in the middle and drawn back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck.

“He wants drugs,” Bai told her.

“He isn't due for his morphine for another two hours.” She looked at Lee. “Where does it hurt?”

“Where doesn't it hurt?”

The nurse looked at Lee a long moment before caving in. “I'll get you something and be right back.”

He looked at Bai when the nurse had left. “What do you think she means by ‘something'?”

“From the look she gave you, I'd bet on Tylenol.”

Lee frowned. “I thought the same thing. She has an Amish look, doesn't she?”

“Don't worry. We'll have you out of here in a day or two. Just hang in there a little longer.”

“Like I've got a choice?” Becoming more aware of his surroundings, he looked around. “What's with all the muscle?”