The Temple (13 page)

“Glad to meet you, Joan. Sorry I
was yelling my head off before but…”

“I understand,” she said. “I
think I understand.”

A few hours later they were
sitting together with Judas on a grimy old sofa in his little
living room. They talked about their various experiences with the
Holy Temple but didn’t really know what to do.

“I mean like, what we really
need,” Judas said, “what we really need is to get the right
evidence about the dirty things they’re doing. It has to be solid,
then we can make it public.”

“Haven’t you tried that before?”
Cato asked.

“Yea, but maybe it wasn’t good
enough.”

“And how would you get this
information? That temple is just like a Teflon frying pan, nothing
sticks.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Joan said.
“I don’t know if it’ll work, but…”

“We’re all ears, Joan,” Cato
said. “Let’s have it.”

“Well, we need someone to go to
the hospital as a patient, I mean someone who pretends to be sick,
but who’ll record things there.”

Judas grinned. “That’s
brilliant, Joan. But who’ll go? We can’t because they know us
already. And how would we make the recording?”

“I think I can answer that,”
Cato said. “I’ve got a good friend who owes me some serious
favours. I’m sure he’d be willing to pose as a filthy rich and
terribly sick patient. And as to recordings, we’ll get someone to
go and visit him and install hidden cameras. In fact the more the
better. They won’t be expecting that. What do you think, Joan?”

She sighed and then nodded
thoughtfully. “I think it would work. No one really examines
patients to see what’s wrong with them. We just bathe them or
change bandages and simple things like that. If your friend just
pretends to be in pain no one would notice. As for hidden cameras,
I don’t know. We never look for that sort of thing. I suppose it
just depends on how well they’re hidden.”

“That’s settled then,” Cato
said.

Cato’s friend Mark proved to be
more than willing to help so within a few days they set the trap
for the Dryvellist Hospital. They faked medical certificates
showing that Mark was terminally ill. They also managed to borrow
another friend’s villa for one day to pass off as Mark’s own. When
everything was set Joan phoned Jeremiah with Cato and Judas
watching.

“Well?” Cato said when she hung
up.

Joan grinned. “He fell for it.
In fact he agreed to pick Mark up this afternoon.”

“No wonder with the address you
gave him,” Judas said. “It’s in a filthy rich area.”

At the Dryvellist Hospital
things worked out much easier than they had feared. With Joan’s
help they managed to install hidden cameras in a number of rooms
and a recording device was kept amongst Mark’s things. As Joan had
introduced Mark to the hospital he was able to request her as one
of his nurses and she was appointed for night duty to his room.
This enabled him to get rest at night so he had enough energy to
keep up a credible performance in daytime.

On the evening of the fifth day
Joan came to his room as usual to start her night shift.

“Good evening,” Joan said as she
entered. “How is the patient today?”

A happy day nurse looked at her.
“Better, I dare say. Much better in fact. Our prayers today have
worked so well, it’s almost a miracle. His pain has quite
gone.”

“Is that right?” Joan said
looking at Mark. “I am very glad to hear it. The Lord’s smile is
upon you.”

“Yes, nurse,” Mark smiled. “I’m
so glad you brought me here. Every word you said is true. Miracles
do happen.”

The day nurse left glad to go
home and Joan sat on Mark’s bed. She grinned at him. “So the power
of prayer has made all your pain evaporate? How very fortunate. But
don’t overdo it or they’ll become suspicious. I’ve never heard of a
miracle in this place before.”

“Yes, nurse,” Mark said
dutifully. “I’ll be in much more pain again tomorrow. But
seriously, how much longer do you guys want me to keep this up?
I’ve got a really sore throat from all the crying and moaning
already.”

“Cato asks if we’ve got enough
film material yet.”

“I should think so. From all the
yelling and screaming I’ve heard more than enough. So what’s the
plan?”

Joan nodded. “I think so, too.
The woman in the room next to yours died yesterday so we’ve got
that recorded as well. Anyway, I talked things over with the others
and the plan is to get you out on Monday.”

“Another two days of this?”

“Monday is the holy day here.
Staff will be busy praying in the hospital temple so it’ll be much
easier for you to sneak out unobserved. I will take all the
recording equipment with me on Monday morning when I finish my
shift.”

“So what do I do?”

“Pretend to sleep after
breakfast, then no one will bother staying with you. Prayers will
start in the temple at 8am. Wait till after eight, then go into the
garden and walk to the far end near the tall oak tree. You know the
one I mean?”

Mark nodded.

“All right, go past the tree.
There’s a narrow opening in the hedge. All you need to do is to
climb through it. Cato will be waiting for you on the other side in
a car.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mark
grinned. “This hospital will be getting a pukka miracle after all!
Terminally ill man cured in one week! That should make them proud
and happy.”

Joan laughed. “Yes, and they’ll
be absolutely delighted when they hear about it on TV. Should be
enough to give Director Lee a heart attack.”

On Monday morning Joan left
after Mark had his breakfast. He then feigned sleep and the day
nurse was more than happy to leave his room and go about her
business which mostly involved skiving from her duties. He waited
till ten past eight to be on the safe side and then quickly got
dressed. He opened the door to his room and peered out. The
corridor was deserted and apart from moans in a few rooms nothing
could be heard. He dashed down the corridor and down the fire
escape. On the ground floor he looked through the narrow glass of
the door. Everything was empty. He pushed the door open and hurried
round the corner where he bumped into Director Lee.

“What on earth are you doing
here?” she said. “You shouldn’t leave your room without a
nurse.”

Blood shot into his face. “Oh,
eh, the nurse helped me so much with prayer, but now I really need
some fresh air. I want to continue my prayers in the garden. I’ll
be just outside the door on the bench.”

Director Lee looked through the
glass door. A bench was clearly visible nearby. “Oh, well if you
want to. But if you’re not feeling well you must come right back
inside. A nurse will take you back to your room. And don’t wander
around outside on your own.” She walked off without another
word.

Mark gazed after her for a
moment. “So you don’t want me to die outside, do you? Worried about
my money if I don’t die in here.” He went into the garden and
looked around slowly to make sure no one was watching him. Then he
set out across the grounds towards the oak tree as Joan had
instructed him. At the tree he looked around. At first he couldn’t
see it but when he examined the hedge more closely he made out a
narrow hole. “Just enough to squeeze through,” he muttered. He
pushed himself through the gap and was relieved to find Cato
waiting for him in the car. He got in and said “Just get going,
man. I can’t wait to be away from that dreadful place.”

Cato just grinned and put his
foot down on the accelerator.

Dryvellophobia

Whom the Gods wish to
destroy,

they first make mad.

Euripides, Antigone

A special TV report about the
Dryvellist Hospital and its connection with the Holy Temple was
announced with much fanfare a week later. With the temple being
back in the spotlight again the report attracted a lot of interest
and much of the nation was glued to the TV screen the evening it
was shown.

The report began with reminding
viewers of previous controversies the temple and Jeremiah had been
involved in. Then the secretly recorded material from the hospital
was shown. In one room an elderly woman was shown tied to her bed.
She was yelling and moaning in pain for hours begging to be
released, begging for an ambulance, pleading for mercy. The
nation’s horrified audience saw the only reaction from hospital
staff were prayers, singing psalms and restraining the woman, even
tying her wrists to the frame of the bed so she couldn’t get up.
The use of earplugs by the nurses caused even more outrage among
the viewers.

Similar scenes were shown in
four other rooms. Also in the report were interviews with Director
Lee and Master Jeremiah. Director Lee’s comments about how patients
were treated with love and care, how they had their dignity
restored after poor treatment at public hospitals, and how many
patients had seen a miraculous improvement in their condition in
even the most hopeless cases was presented in sharp contrast with
the scenes from the secret recordings.

The day after the report all
hell broke lose, at least as far as the Dryvellers were concerned.
Before dawn police arrived with a throng of ambulances and
evacuated anyone who wanted to leave the hospital. Not long after
thousands of outraged citizens came and held a noisy demonstration
protesting against conditions at the hospital. The police came a
second time to prevent people from forcing their way into the
hospital. The third group outside the main entrance were a large
group of reporters who were busy showing everything live on TV and
who were demanding to see Director Lee. To everyone’s surprise she
decided to face the crowd and address the press shortly after nine
o’clock. When the doors opened and she appeared, the press shot off
a barrage of questions while the crowd booed her and tried to shout
her down.

“A statement,” she said. “I want
to make a statement.”

The tumult subsided a
little.

“We are shocked and horrified by
the actions depicted in last night’s report. We have begun an
internal investigation and if we find any of the allegations to be
true and not a fabrication by a third party we will make sure that
those responsible will face strong disciplinary action.”

There were jeers from the
crowd.

“I would also like to assure you
that patients at our sacred hospital receive the highest and best
care possible…”

General laughter.

“…and that our staff are
dedicated individuals who have chosen their profession because they
want to help others. All of us here are very worried about what may
happen to the patients so brutally removed by authorities earlier
today in a cloak and dagger operation which stood in utter
disregard to the law. I also want to protest against insinuations
made in the TV report that we stand to profit from our patients
dying. This is totally false and our legal team is assessing the
possibility of legal action for defamation against the producer and
individuals involved in making that disgusting example of gutter
journalism.”

For a split-second there was
silence. Then a furious roar erupted from the crowd and Director
Lee beat a hasty retreat into the building. The door fell shut
behind her just in time before a hail of half-empty bottles and
cans, shoes and other objects slammed into the building. Riot
police intervened and began to push the furious crowd back. After a
few minutes things had calmed down again but the scenes of irate
protesters were replayed on TV over and over again along with
comments by Director Lee and the dreadful scenes of suffering
patients at the Dryvellist Hospital.

The next morning Jeremiah graced
the brethren with his presence during breakfast for the first time
in quite a while. Not that he wanted to be present, he had grown
much too accustomed to sleeping late to have breakfast early in the
morning, he felt a profound sense of disquiet if not to say anxiety
due to the negative publicity that compelled him to be present.
Sycko let Jeremiah have his customary seat at the head of the long
table and sat down beside him just as he had done months
before.

All eyes were turned to
Jeremiah, seeking guidance and reassurance, all of them looking
worried and quite a few with shadows under the eyes indicating a
restless night.

“Good morrow,” Jeremiah sighed.
“Let us break the fast together as is our wont, and then,” he
paused with another sigh, “and then we will talk about the terrible
things that have transpired.”

Many hands quickly reached for
food and drink. No one talked and everyone tried to get breakfast
over with, eager to hear what the Master of the Temple had to say.
Only Jeremiah didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Every mouthful he took
seemed to wander around his mouth for what was an eternity for all
the brethren watching him eat. They had all finished their meals
and were waiting for Jeremiah to give the signal to rise. He didn’t
notice. The room was silent apart from the odd clang of crockery
when Jeremiah put his cup down. Slowly though, another noise was
heard. Very quiet at first it gradually increased in strength until
it sounded like the hum of a beehive. Confused the brethren looked
around. They had never heard it before. Suddenly a window shattered
into an explosion of glass. A brother sitting opposite fell to the
floor with a scream. The brethren leapt to their feet and saw a
large stone lying next to their unfortunate brother. Jeremiah
hurried across and felt his pulse.

“He’s still alive,” he said.
“Sycko, call an ambulance!”

Sycko ran off and the breakfast
room exploded into uproar. Everyone was talking, shouting and
yelling at the same time. Then one of them pointed out of the
window.