The Midwife Murders by James Patterson, Richard Dilallo Read Free Book Online Page B

professional?” Blumenthal asks, only slightly confused.
    “Yeah, it was done by a trained professional,
a real live doctor.
He, or she, cut the mother, delivered the baby, and then left Katra to bleed out and die.”
    Dr. Whall waits for us to register the horror of the information. After a few seconds, she says, “Dr. Sarkar and his team are still guardedly optimistic. Thanks, everyone,” and she leaves.
    Leon Blumenthal walks over to me. “Tell me,” he says. “Is the use of the phrase ‘guardedly optimistic’ just hospital speak for ‘not at all optimistic’?”
    “It could be. But you never know until the operation’s over.”
    Blumenthal nods. “Good answer,” he says.
    Then I say, “Only the Lord Jesus knows the end of the story.”
    “Amen,” says Blumenthal.
    I think he smiled slightly. I’m not sure.

CHAPTER 16
    TWO HOURS LATER, LEON Blumenthal, two NYPD assistant detectives, and myself are seated around a banged-up metal lunch table in the residents’ cafeteria. This room is no longer a cafeteria. The area has been clumsily transformed into a law enforcement investigation center at Gramatan University Hospital. Clusters of plastic forks and squeeze bottles of ketchup and cafeteria trays have been replaced by computers and wires and files and cameras and TV screens. Eager young residents have been replaced by eager young assistant detectives and NYPD officers.
    Blumenthal is talking to NYPD personnel as they stream in and out. I am on my laptop giving updates and fielding questions from Troy and Tracy Anne and other midwife staffers. Katz walks nervously in and out of the conference area. We are all nervous, tired, and essentially ignoring one another. Then, into this insane police center, comes a very important visitor, Dr. Rudra Sarkar.
    At this moment Rudi Sarkar is not his usual calm and dapper self. To put it bluntly, Sarkar looks like shit. He is exhausted, sweaty, red-eyed. He practically limps toward the table. His scrubs are splattered with blood. There is blood on his bare upper arms and the V-shaped exposed area of his chest. His disposable paper slippers are bloody.
    We all reflexively stand when we see the doctor.
    Sarkar says, “I am happy to tell you that Katra Kovac has come through this event very, very well.” He adds, “I think that perhaps the patient’s condition appeared much worse than it actually was.”
    I think Sarkar is being modest. Or he’s being crazy. A C-section performed viciously, under unsanitary conditions, without anesthesia …
Come on, Rudi, it was a horror show, and this is a miracle.
For a moment I think I will say something, but somehow cheerleading and praise seem inappropriate at this moment.
    I can hardly wait to get to the recovery room and see Katra Kovac. I know Katz wants to get his PR people churning out their brand of blather to the media. I can only imagine the gangs of reporters roaming outside the hospital.
    But one thing I predict is this: Blumenthal must, of course, have his own agenda for continuing the investigation as quickly as possible.
    The usually quiet detective spins around like an athlete and faces the group.
    And I’m right.
    “I … want … your … attention!” Blumenthal is just a decibel short of shouting. Suddenly he moves to his right and looks fiercely at Katz. “Get off the phone … now!”
    Katz looks both startled and scared. I don’t think theCEO is going to try to play the CEO card again. He quickly whispers into the phone, “I’ll call you right back.”
    Blumenthal lowers his voice just a bit. But the energy and anger are still there. “Listen. This is a doublebarreled investigation. The challenges are … there’s no other word … overwhelming. Okay, our victim lives. Super thanks and congratulations to Dr. Sarkar. That’s number one. That’s great, but it also means that we’ve got a person or persons who need to be brought in for attempted murder, some fucker or fuckers who butchered a pregnant