29

Roy and Johnny were called on a run to the local high school. A grade nine boy had put his hand into an industrial dryer in the gymnasium locker room to try and pull out a towel while the dryer drum was still rotating. The large, wet towels had wrapped around his arm, and the force of the turning drum grabbed on to it like an electric mixer.

As they unwrapped him from the mess of towels, John and Roy looked grim. The boy was in so much pain that he passed out, which was probably a blessing, as he didn't see the wreckage that used to be his hand and arm. They controlled the bleeding with a tourniquet, wrapped it up in bandages as best they could, inserted an IV with MS, and transported him to Rampart.


Dr Brackett's eyebrows drew together. He shook his head, sighed, and told the paramedics, "We'll need to amputate the whole arm. There's no question. The damage is too extensive and irreparable. Have we been able to locate the boy's parents? They'll need to sign consent as soon as possible."

Johnny nodded. "The school called his mother right away, and she should be arriving any time now."

"It's such a shame," said Roy.

Dr Brackett nodded. "It is. But we have the technology available so that he will be fitted with a prosthetic arm, and he should be able to lead a normal life."

John grunted. "I guess it could have been worse."

Kelly patted Johnny's back as the paramedics turned to leave the treatment room. "If it wasn't for you guys, it definitely would have been."

"Yeah, but I wonder if this kid will look at it that way," said Roy.


Dr Marshall, the chaplain who was Jane's mentor and friend, approached her desk and sat down in the chair beside it. She smiled at him questioningly. "Jane, we have a case right now that we might want you to be involved in. Dr Early asked me to talk to you and see how you felt about it." Jane was surprised. Normally the doctors would approach her directly about doing something for a patient.

"Umm, okay, Dr Marshall; you know I'd be happy to do whatever I can."

He gave a little shake of his head. "This one isn't so simple, Jane." He looked down at his hands. Jane grinned. He looked very much like Dr Joe when he did that. He noticed her grin, recognized that he was doing exactly what Joe would do and smiled back, but then became serious.

"Jane, a young girl, well, young woman actually, has come into the Emergency, and she needs to talk to someone as soon as possible." Jane felt a chill; somehow she knew why they had asked Dr Marshall to talk to her, and why it wasn't a given that she would be involved. Although it had been a year since she was attacked, there were some things from which her friends wanted to protect her. She had spoken with Dr Marshall at length over the course of the year, when something would come up that triggered flashbacks or panic attacks, just as she had met with Dr Joe about pain issues when they had arisen. Everything seemed resolved as far as she was concerned, and although the authorities still did not have suspects or any new leads, she felt that she had moved on with her life.

She raised her eyebrows and bit her lip. "Was she attacked?" Dr Marshall nodded. Jane continued in a somewhat smaller voice. "Was she drugged?" Dr Marshall nodded again. "And you want me to talk with her?" He didn't respond. "But…wouldn't that confuse things for the police?"

"Actually, Jane, it was Detective Berger's idea. He would be there with you, and the hope is that it might help both of you. He really wants to catch these people, and he feels this might be an opportunity to do so – you have a position here at the hospital which allows you contact with victims of violent crimes as part of your job; no confidentiality rules would be broken. The question is, are you up to it? Would it be too difficult for you?"

Jane let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding in check with a 'whoosh'. To talk to someone who had been through what she had been through…to be able to help someone recover from the terrible violation…could she do it? She knew she had to try. This time she was the one who nodded. "Of course, Dr Marshall, I will do whatever I can, and whatever the detective wants me to do."


Monica was fifteen years old. She was already in a private room. Jane went with Detective Berger in to see her. Her mother was holding her hand, but Monica was listless and withdrawn, unresponsive to the other people in the room.

Jane felt her stomach roll over when she saw Monica's arms. Her brown hair was in disarray, and her lip was swollen. Her eyes looked dead, and Jane somehow knew that she had looked exactly like that when things had happened to her. Detective Berger's hand steadied her arm. "You okay? Can you do this?" he said to her in a low voice. She nodded, suppressing her nausea, and walking over to the side of the girl's bed.

"Monica? My name is Jane. Although I'm not a doctor or a nurse, I work at the hospital with people who are going through a bad time." She sat down beside the bed. She looked at Monica's face with compassion. "It doesn't come much worse than the bad time you are going through."

Monica looked at Jane with suspicion. She gave a short derisive laugh. "How would you know what I've been through? Who the hell are you?"

Her mother remonstrated with her daughter. "Monica! These people only want to help you!" Monica turned her face away towards the wall.

Jane looked understandingly at her mother and said, "It might be better if you could wait outside. Would you mind?" Her mother looked very sad, shook her head, and followed the nurse into the hallway.

Jane waited until the door was closed and then asked, "Monica, were you aware that Detective Berger has worked before with the type of attack that you experienced?"

Monica looked skeptical, and shrugged. She sounded sullen and resentful when she said, "What does it matter? They made sure I wouldn't remember anything except the pain, anyway."

Jane replied, "I think it does matter. It means that you aren't the first person this happened to, and that you might not be the last. It means that we might have resources to catch the people who did this to you, if you are able and willing to try and remember whatever you can about what happened." Monica looked down at the blankets covering her body. A shiver coursed through her and she grew paler. She shook her head very slightly.

Jane continued, "You'd be surprised at what you do remember, despite having been drugged. Colors, smells, sounds…they are all memories too, and something might be the key to catching these men." There was no reaction from the girl.

Jane closed her eyes and waited for inspiration to come about what to say. After a moment she said softly, "You were walking home and decided to take a short-cut. At first you weren't worried, but then some guy came towards you…"

Monica looked at Jane curiously and with some suspicion. "How do you know that? I haven't told anyone what happened." Jane opened her eyes and looked at Monica directly; then she looked at the detective standing at the end of the bed.

He nodded to her and told her, "Go with your instincts."

She looked back at Monica. "You didn't see who was there, not to identify anyone clearly. And the drugs have messed up your memories so badly that you don't trust what you do remember."

Monica sighed. Then she peered closely at Jane. "You understand. It's almost as if you were there." She looked at Detective Berger. "I'll give you what I can, but it's so little… and so screwed up in my head."


While Johnny was at the hospital on a run, Dixie pulled him aside, and told him about what Jane was doing. "The detective felt that it might help both of them, Johnny. He's trying any way he can to get all the information possible."

Johnny was horrified. "There's been another attack?"

Dixie nodded. "A fifteen year old girl this time."

"And Jane consented to talk to her?" He was suddenly angry. "What were Early and that detective thinking? After all she's been through, after spending a year getting this behind her, you guys just ask her to bring it all up again?"

"Johnny, I knew you'd be upset, that's why I'm giving you the 'head's up' – so that you can keep an eye on how Jane's dealing with this, and help her out if she needs it."

Johnny shook his head indignantly. "Those guys have some nerve!"

Dixie replied, "Perhaps. But listen, Johnny, if it helps this girl, if it can somehow work to catch these monsters…"

He growled. "I just wish it wasn't at Jane's expense."

She nodded. "Of course you do."


John touched Roy's arm to get his attention while Roy was talking with Dr Morton. "Sorry to interrupt, Roy. Listen, you okay if we hang around for a few minutes or so? I want to see Jane before we head back to the station."

"Sure, no problem. Something up?"

"Yeah, maybe. I dunno."

"Okay, I'll call us in 'available.' Where will I meet you?"

"If we get a run, just find me, okay?" Roy looked surprised, but nodded.