THIRTEEN

‘Passengers on cruise vessels have an inadequate appreciation of their potential vulnerability to crime while on ocean voyages, and those who may be victimized lack the information they need to understand their legal rights or to know whom to contact for help in the immediate aftermath of the crime.’

Cruise Vessel Safety & Security Act of

2010 (H.R. 3660)

Georgina leapt to her feet. ‘Is she all right? Please tell me Julie’s OK!’

Molly Fortune smiled kindly. ‘Your daughter’s unconscious, Mrs Cardinale, but breathing. They’ve got her on a stretcher, and they’re taking her up to the medical center right now.’

Georgina grabbed Fortune by the arm. ‘I need to go to her!’

‘Of course you do, ma’am, and we’ll get you there as quickly as possible. Please follow me.’ Fortune held the door open until we’d all passed into the hallway, then closed it behind her, jiggling the handle to make sure it was secure.

‘Where was she?’ I asked Fortune as she hustled us down the corridor.

‘On one of the lower decks, in an area we call I-95. It’s restricted to staff and crew, so we’re not sure how Julie managed to find her way down there. She was overlooked at first because she was lying behind a stack of cardboard boxes that had been flattened and bound up for recycling. One of the cooks found her when he shifted a tub of empty wine bottles.’

I wondered how long Julie would have lain there if the cook hadn’t found her, and promised myself never to complain about shipboard food.

The medical center turned out to be a state-of-the-art facility near the bow on deck three, as well-equipped as any of my doctors’ offices back home in Annapolis.

When we arrived, a blue-vested emergency team had just transferred Julie from a stretcher to a gurney in a small examination room. Her hair was disheveled, dirt streaked her cheek, and a lump on her forehead had started to bruise. One foot was bare. A man in a white lab coat, who I assumed was the doctor, stood beside her. With no apology, Georgina pushed the doctor aside and bent over her daughter. ‘Baby!’

Julie’s head lolled, her eyelids fluttered in a desperate, but unsuccessful attempt to open them. Her lips moved, and she began to mumble.

Georgina leaned closer. ‘What is it, darling?’

‘Mommy, Mommy… I don’t feel so good, Mommy.’ Her voice was softer than a whisper, her words slurred, but nobody could mistake their meaning.

A nurse elbowed her way into the room carrying a tray of instruments covered by a sterile cloth. As she passed by, Fortune asked, ‘Is the girl drunk?’

Georgina’s head shot up and schrapnel shot out of her eyes. ‘My daughter is not drunk. It’s perfectly obvious she’s been drugged. Just look at her!’ Georgina picked up one of Julie’s hands, raised it a few inches then let it drop where it lay, limp, lifeless, on the sheet. ‘Use your eyes, people!’

The doctor stepped forward. ‘I’m Doctor Springer. Which one of you is Mrs Cardinale?’

‘I am,’ Georgina said, her voice laced with exasperation at the dim-wittedness of the question.

‘Mrs Cardinale, I understand your concern, but I’ll need to examine Julie, and the sooner I can do that, the sooner I can prescribe appropriate treatment. Now, will you kindly step aside? Please?’

Georgina stood her ground. ‘Well, I’m not leaving, and neither are my sisters.’

Dr Springer eased a pair of rubber gloves, one glove at a time, out of a dispenser that sat on a glass-fronted steel cabinet. ‘That’s fine, but bear in mind that I’ll need space in order to conduct a proper medical exam. Pick one of your sisters, Mrs Cardinale. I don’t work with audiences.’

Officer Fortune took the hint and backed out of the examination room. ‘You’ll let me know what you find, won’t you, Doctor?’

He nodded. ‘Of course. Nurse? Where’s my stethoscope?’

‘I’ll go,’ Ruth said graciously, saving Georgina the embarrassment of having to choose one sister over another. ‘Georgina, do you want me to try to contact Scott?’

‘God, no! Please don’t call Scott until we have something definite to tell him!’ A fat tear rolled down Georgina’s cheek. ‘Scott is going to kill me, he’s absolutely going to kill me!’

I wrapped an arm around my little sister and drew her close, trying to comfort her as she sobbed. ‘This isn’t about you, Georgina, it’s about Julie. And if we’re passing the blame around, sweetheart, it was Scott who insisted you take Julie along on the cruise in the first place. But, you know what? Nobody is responsible for what happened to Julie except the person who attacked her. Not you, not Scott, not even those overworked young counselors in the Tidal Wave. Now, let’s give the doctor space. Let the man do his work.’

Georgina resisted my efforts to pull her away from Julie’s side. She seemed stuck there, like glue. I tugged again on her arm, and she stepped away with me so suddenly that I stumbled. I recovered quickly, though, and dragged her aside until we were standing with our backs pressed against the wall, watching anxiously from the sidelines as Dr Springer moved a stethoscope around Julie’s chest, listening carefully each time, then lifted each eyelid and shone a light into her eyes.

‘Are you a real doctor?’ Georgina wanted to know.

Dr Springer didn’t bother to look up. ‘Yes, ma’am, with a medical degree from Baylor and everything. It’s hanging on the wall out there in the office if you want to see it.’

‘So why are you working on a cruise ship?’ she sneered.

Dr Springer snorted in amusement, but chose to ignore her. He picked up one of Julie’s arms, resting her small hand on his beefy palm. ‘Julie, can you move your fingers for me? Julie?’ He laid a hand on her ankle. ‘Can you move your toes, Julie? C’mon, wiggle those piggies.’

From where I stood it looked as if, from the neck down, Julie was about as capable of moving her extremities as a rag doll.

The nurse arrived and clipped a blood pressure monitor on Julie’s index finger, then drew a sample of blood from her arm. I’d taken Julie to the doctors before, when she was a child, and the fact that she wasn’t cringing, whining pitifully and backing away from the needle now simply broke my heart.

Nonetheless, I was impressed with the thoroughness of Dr Springer’s exam. In the bedside manner department, I gave him an ‘A,’ too. He talked soothingly to my niece throughout the whole process, just as if she were awake. ‘Julie, I’m going to examine your abdomen, now – you might feel a little pressure. And I’ll need to lift your dress.’

Springer lifted the hem of Julie’s sundress and eased the dress up to her waist. Georgina gasped then, and I noticed it, too. Julie’s underpants – white cotton with tiny rosebuds, childlike and innocent – were torn. ‘My God, my God, somebody’s raped my baby!’

‘We don’t know that yet, Mrs Cardinale.’ Dr Springer turned to the nurse who had been hovering at his elbow. ‘Jeannie, please escort these women into the waiting room, then bring me a rape kit.’ His arm shot out, grabbed the track-mounted cubicle curtain and drew it around the gurney on which Julie lay, cutting off our view. His well of patience with my sister had clearly dried up.

Moving Georgina the ten feet from the examination room into the outer office was a feat of strength; her shoes must have been made of lead. Eventually I managed to haul her to a chair next to Ruth, and I plopped down gratefully in the chair on the other side.

‘Where’s Security now, that’s what I want to know!’ Georgina folded her arms across her chest and scowled.

‘They’re probably securing the crime scene,’ I told her. ‘That’s what professionals do.’

‘We need to call somebody,’ Georgina said. ‘The F.B.I. has jurisdiction. Isn’t that what George Whatshisname said?’

‘Warren, and it’s David. Yes, I believe that’s what he said.’

‘Whoever did this is going to pay.’

I had to agree with that and, if he valued his genitals, he’d better hope the F.B.I. found him before we did.

After ten agonizing minutes, Dr Springer rejoined us. ‘We won’t know until the blood work comes back, but I’m almost certain your daughter was drugged. From her symptoms, I’m guessing Ketamine, possibly Rohypnol or GHB, commonly known as date rape drugs. Ketamine can cause paralysis, loss of time, memory problems, distortions of sight and sound, among other symptoms. I think you should be prepared for Julie not being able to remember much about what happened to her.’ He paused to let this soak in. ‘The good news is that there is no evidence that Julie was raped. She has bruises on her upper arms, and on her thighs, but there’s no sign of vaginal trauma. Your daughter is still virgo intacta.’

Georgina began to weep again, more quietly this time. ‘Thank God, oh, thank God.’

‘Is there an antidote for Ketamine?’ I asked.

The doctor shook his head. ‘She’ll have to sleep it off, I’m afraid. Wait for the drug to pass out of her system. We’ll keep her under observation here for a while to make sure there are no problems with her respiration. This can be an issue when she wakes up, particularly if she begins to vomit. And once your daughter does come out of it, Mrs Cardinale, you’ll need to see that she drinks plenty of water.’

Georgina nodded. She understood. ‘Can I stay with her?’

‘Of course.’ He tucked his pen into his pocket. ‘One more thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘She’ll need a change of clothing. I asked the nurse to bag up the clothes that Julie was wearing in case they’re needed as evidence.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, feeling grateful that the doctor seemed to know what he was doing. ‘Can we see Julie now?’

‘Certainly.’

Back in the examination room with Julie, with the privacy curtain pulled around us, I eased my iPhone out of my pocket and tapped the camera app.

‘Hannah! What the hell are you doing?’

‘I’m taking pictures, Georgina, for evidence.’ I photographed Julie’s face, smoothing her hair back to get a better view of the bruise on her forehead. I took pictures of the marks on her arms and on her thighs. I captured a close-up of the broken fingernail – our girl had put up a fight – and the torn underwear.

Better to be safe than sorry, I thought. If the ship’s security was not our friend – if Dr Springer’s test results mysteriously vanished… I tucked the iPhone into my pocket and patted it protectively. Julie’s insurance policy.

‘What do we do now?’ Georgina asked, stroking her daughter’s hair.

‘We wait until Julie wakes up; hopefully she’ll remember at least some of what happened.’

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