Robert B. Parker’s Damned If You Do

16

Norris Hopkins greeted Jesse in the waiting room of Rivers and Hopkins, the Paradise litigation specialists.

Hopkins was the senior partner, well into his sixties, smartly dressed, gray-haired and handsome, whose life partner, Craig Diamond, had been a patient at Golden Horizons.

Norris ushered Jesse into his elegantly furnished office, and they sat across from each other in a pair of leather armchairs.

“Coffee? Something to drink?”

“Thank you, Norris. I’m good. How’s Craig?”

“Oh, you know, Jesse. Good days and bad. We strived to create an orderly life, Craig and I. We firmly believed that order was the one essential ingredient of a life well lived. It’s amazing how fast illness can destroy order and replace it with immeasurable chaos.”

“Alzheimer’s?”

“That’s the one. Turned our lives completely upside down.”

“I’m sorry,” Jesse said.

Hopkins sighed.

“You wanted to see me regarding Golden Horizons,” he said.

“I did.”

“You know that I had some issues with them. I’m not their biggest fan.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

Hopkins sat back in his chair.

“Craig’s faculties deteriorated quickly. I tried my best to care for him on my own, but when that became impossible, I brought him to Golden Horizons.”

Jesse nodded.

“He wasn’t your ideal patient,” Hopkins said. “He was on the decline, and as a result, behaved erratically.”

“How so?”

“He was a runner. Given the slightest opening, he would attempt to sneak out of the building and run away. A couple of times he got past their security and showed up at our apartment. Which was a nightmare.”

“Yet you returned him there?”

“I did. Yes.”

“And you chose not to move him elsewhere?”

“Not at that time.”

“How did that work out?”

“It was all right for a while. They heightened the dosage level of his medications, and he calmed down to the point where he didn’t try to escape anymore.”

“And you were satisfied.”

“Not really. I generally work late and frequently don’t leave the office until well after Golden Horizons’ visiting hours are over. Sometimes I’d stop in to see him on my way home. Frequently I found no attendants present. And Craig was always asleep. Even if I came by at lunchtime, he was asleep. What I found even more troublesome was that he appeared to be more than just sleeping. He seemed comatose. After one particularly disturbing visit, I elected to remove him from the home.”

“What was so disturbing?”

“He had been shackled to his bed. Wrists and ankles.”

“What did you do?’

“I screamed bloody murder is what I did. I confronted the doctor in charge. Binky something. When I threatened to blow the whistle, he reluctantly agreed to allow me to move Craig to another facility. But he didn’t make it easy. He treated me terribly. Once I had to be restrained from strangling the bastard.”

“Binky?”

“Damned right, Binky. Binky. I still get angry whenever I think of that son of a bitch.”

“Why didn’t you report this to us?”

“You mean to the police?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know, Jesse. I guess I thought that it wouldn’t do any good. That it would get ugly. A ‘my word versus theirs’ kind of thing. Moving him seemed the smartest choice.”

“Where is he now?”

“At the Goodfellow’s Home. They care for him extremely well there. They involve him in activities that challenge and invigorate him. He seems happy. I kick myself that I didn’t bring him there in the first place.”

“And you never took action against Golden Horizons?”

“No.”

“Because?”

“Because Binky took me aside and told me that the new owners would sic their lawyers on me and drown me in costly and time-consuming litigation if I did. He said that they’d bury me and my practice.”

“So you simply walked away.”

“Not so simply. They nailed me with what they called an early-exit penalty. Cost me a small fortune. But at least he’s out of there and doing better. That’s really all I care about. Why did you want to know about this, Jesse?”

“Fact finding.”

“What fact finding?”

“A friend of mine was a patient there. He was also a runner, as you put it. They were sedating him, and as was the case with Craig, restraining him. The company that now owns the place has a history of perceived patient malfeasance, but despite complaints, their high-powered lawyers always manage to clear them of any wrongdoing charges.”

“Like they did in Marlborough?”

“Yes.”

“And they do it by immediately rectifying the circumstances that brought about the complaints.”

“Yes.”

“Not exactly an ethical lot,” Hopkins said.

“Not exactly.”

“And you plan to hold them accountable?”

“You bet your sweet bippy I plan to hold them accountable,” Jesse said.

“How?”

“Surreptitiously.”

“Meaning?”

“They won’t see me coming till it’s too late to stop me.”