Thank you to all the wonderful people who told me they wanted to see this story completed!
Chapter 11 - my thanks to Eli for the Spanish lessons in this chapter!
Netter paced the confines of the visitors waiting area. In the past five hours he'd called in to the Metro and explained what had gone on. He'd personally gone down to see Ted and Harry, the two guys who'd brought Ken into the hospital and he'd had someone bring him some clothes into the hospital.
Now washed and dressed once again in his usual blue jeans, white shirt and dark blue jacket, he felt normal. If it hadn't been for the pounding headache and the fireworks that exploded behind his eyes each time he moved his head, he'd be well enough to go back to work. But instead of going home to his soft bed and comfortable pillows, he chose to wait for more news of Ken.
There were very few cases that touched Netter on such a personal level. He had no idea whether it was because of the man's age, his physical looks or the way his family treated him,. There was just something about Ken Hutchinson that had hooked the grizzled, streetwise cop like few other cases had done before. He knew it was crazy to get so attached. He knew it was even crazier to be hanging around the ward like a little lap dog. Jeez he wasn't family; they probably wouldn't even let him in! But something kept Netter at the hospital and he was used to going with his gut feelings.
Nurses wandered in and out of the room that he'd seen the gurney moved to and finally the doctor came out and looked around. 'Family for Hutchinson?'
'Um, I'm not family but I'm a close friend' Netter lied. 'Is he ok? Is he gonna make it? His dad is working here today'.
'Yes, I know. Dr Hutchinson will be down later once he's finished his operating list. You are?'
'Netter. Hank Netter. Can I see him? Is he ok? He repeated.
'Ken is a very lucky young man to be alive. You can sit by him if you like but we've induced a medical coma. His injuries are quite severe'. The doctor indicated for Hank to go into the small private room.
Inside, the usual sickly pale green walls were at least decorated with one or two tasteful pictures, but the room was taken over by the bed, it's patient and the myriad of machines surrounding him. Netter walked behind the doctor to the foot of the bed and couldn't hide the wince at the sight in front of him. He dragged his attention back to the doctor, who was rhyming off a list of injuries.
'He has 4 broken ribs, one of which punctured his right lung. The ER doctor dealt with that and the lung is now re-inflated. We've strapped up his chest and will monitor it closely. Sometimes the pneumothoraxe has a habit of recurring spontaneously. He has a serious concussion. He was bleeding into his head when he arrived, but we've x-rayed and made an exploratory incision and we found nothing too sinister and we managed to stop the bleed. He was severely beaten around the head and his brain has swelled so we're keeping him in a coma to give his body time to start healing. Both legs have been broken, the left above the knee and the right below the knee and his left arm is broken at the wrist. The fingers of his right hand have also all be broken and we suspect some nerve damage, but only time will tell on that one.
Other than that, he escaped any major internal injuries although his kidneys have been badly bruised. He'll be unconscious for a few days yet. You can stay with him for a while and on a subconscious level he may even know you're here, but don't expect any responses. Because of the coma, we have him on a respirator. Don't worry. The machines are looking after him'.
Hank thanked the doctor. 'Are his family coming?'
'His Father will be here once he's finished operating. His Mom is on her way'.
Netter smiled and moved up the bed. He sat down on the chair by the bedside and looked at the young man. Ken looked incredibly fragile lying on the white sheeted bed. There was no colour to his face other than the evil blue of the bruises and everywhere Netter looked there were fresh white bandages, needles and tubes. The hiss whoosh of the respirator filled the air with its rhythmic life giving noise and Ken's chest rose in time with the sounds of the machine. Gently Hank put his hand out and rested it on Ken's bare shoulder.
'It's gonna be Ok kid. I'm sorry I didn't get to ya. I tried. Honest I did, but they were too quick. I'm so sorry. But I'm here now. I won't leave you alone till your folks get here. I'm right here…..not going anywhere. Right here by your side'.
Netter continued his quiet words for the next hour. He didn't really know what he as saying, or whether he was making any sense. But he understood that on some fundamental level, Ken needed to know that he wasn't alone in his ordeal and that he had at least one friend looking out for him.
An hour or so later, the door to the small room opened, making Hank jump slightly. He'd been concentrating so hard on the body on the bed that he'd hardly noticed the nurses coming in an out to take readings and adjust the machines. They commented that Ken was fighting hard and that they were surprised at just how well he was doing, but mostly they left the two men alone. Now the tall figure of Dr Hutchinson walked into the room, Mrs Hutchinson following close behind.
Netter had seen several tearful occasions, sometimes in hospital, when families had been reunited. Usually tears flowed and words were spoken, but this was so different. Instead of going direct to the bed Ken's father stood to one side, questioning the doctor in charge of his son's treatments and what had gone on in theatre. While Dr Hutchinson dispassionately discussed his son's life with one of his colleagues, Mr Hutchinson hovered by the side of the bed. Hank stood and offered her the chair, conscious that he was, after all, a stranger. She shook her head and stood, her hand hovering over her son's injured body as if she knew she should touch it and give the boy her love, but unsure how to go about it. Finally she withdrew her hand and merely watched as the respirator breathed life into Ken's chest.
'He's gonna be ok' Hank said, misinterpreting Mrs Hutchinson's lack of contact for fear that she would hurt her son.
The woman looked at him, straightened her shoulders and smiled. 'You're Detective Netter? Thank you so much for investigating the blackmail. So kind' she said quietly.
'Just doing my job Ma'am. Ken's gonna do fine I know he is'.
'I'm sure of it' she said, walking back to join her husband. They talked for a little while longer with the other doctor before he left and they turned back to the bed. Dr Hutchinson examined the respirator, the chart at he foot of the bed and the various drips before finally he looked at his son. He reached out a hand to Ken's forehead, but instead of caressing his firstborn and telling him he was going to be ok, he took out a penlight and raised Ken's eyelids to measure pupil reaction. Netter looked away in disgust.
Finally the two parents looked at Hank. 'Thanks you for taking the time to come and visit' Dr Hutchinson said. 'The doctor in the ER said that you too had been injured. How are you feeling?'
'I'm good. I'm more concerned with Ken.
'He should make a full recovery in time. And right now he needs his rest. Thank you Detective, but you need your rest too'.
Taking the words as a dismissal, Hank stood. 'If you're staying, I'd ask for a different chair. That one digs into your back' he said.
'Hmm? Oh that's ok. Mrs Hutchinson and I have to fly down to Atlanta tonight. Some boring award ceremony you know. We'll be back in two days'.
Netter's patience snapped. He'd thought that maybe now that Ken's life hung in the balance he'd see a different side to the Hutchinson family. He hoped against hope that this would be the catalyst they needed to see just how precious their son was to them. But instead he was met by a show of such utter indifference, that his rage boiled over.
'You mean you're gonna go and just leave him here on his own?' he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
'Mr Netter. Ken is in a medically induced coma. He has no idea whether we're here or not. By the time we get back, he may be coming out of it, but until then there is no reason for anyone to waste their time in sitting by his bedside. I assure you, he'll be well looked after here'.
'Waste their time? Is that what you think it would be.? A waste of time to sit by your son? The son you helped put here? If you'd have lowered your goddamned principles for one goddamned minute and got the money ready, he might not be here right now. Surely the least you can do is be with him now, when he needs you the most'. Hank stared back at the impassive face.
'You're overwrought. I'll forgive your outburst this once Detective as you're injured and tired. But let me make this plain. It was your job to see that my son was safely returned. You're the law. I'm just here to pick up the pieces when the law get it wrong. Now. You may stay here if you like. I can't stop you. But I want no more snide comments about my or my wife's parenting skills, is that clear? Any more of your verbal abuse and I'll have you removed from the hospital. My wife and I will carry on with our business content in the knowledge that our son is being looked after by Duluth's finest. And we will be home in two days. Goodbye'. And with that, the two Hutchinsons turned and departed without a backwards glance.
Hank stared after them, unable to understand what he'd just heard. How could any parent be so cold hearted? How could any mother see her son in such a state and not want to pick him up and hold him and sooth away his hurts and fears. But instead, Ken's mother seemed hardly to know how to touch her son, let alone give him the comfort he so needed at the moment. Hank put his head in his hands. How could anyone leave their nearest and dearest like this? Almost as much as medical care, Ken needed love and understanding right now and while Netter knew right then that he didn't want to leave the young blond on his own, he also knew he couldn't do this all by himself.
Wearily he got up from the worlds most uncomfortable chair and leaned over the unconscious form on the bed. He had a plan.
'I'm gonna go for just a little while kid. But I'll be back. You aren't alone, ok. I'll be back real soon'.
Netter headed out of the door just as one of the nurses into the room to make more checks.
'I'll be back' he said as he headed for the front of the hospital.
An hour later, driving a black and white as his own car was considered a write off, Netter made his way back to Mercy Hospital. He walked slowly and stiffly back up to the small private ward and entered the quiet softly lit room. he walked to the bedside and put his hand softly on Ken's shoulder.
'Hey kid. I said I'd be back. And I've brought someone else. Together we're gonna make sure you're not on your own'. Hank stood to one side as Chancita wiped away a tear and leaned to kiss the bloody, cracked lips, whispering words of endearment under her breath.
'Estoy aquí, mi niño querido. No voy a irme de tu lado. Chancita está aquí, y todo va a ir bien'