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or less plundered it to get my vital pieces of equipment and consumables to help the old lady, only a slightly better alternative than the office. I attempted a little tidying up and managed to get two chairs from the Nursing station for us to sit on. DCI Milton took out a note book and asked me to start from the beginning. So I told him the story as it had unfolded.
“Why did you ring 999 Miss Lang?”, he asked.
“It is Mrs Lang, but you can call me Elissa if you want”, I replied.
“OK, Elissa, why did you dial 999?”
“I didn't”, I answered. “I dialed 989 which is the hospital's emergency number. It can be used for various calls for help or assistance. I noticed that there was no phone I could use to raise the alarm due to the building work still being carried out. Thomas, one of my colleagues I worked with this night and who had been in charge, was already on his way out of the hospital. Susan, the nurse on the night shift, who had taken over from the evening staff, was already on her rounds and trying to find her would have meant loosing valuable time, so I choose the next possible option, and as you can dial 989 from any phone, it seemed the best I could do in the given circumstances. Crash calls, fire emergencies and the like can only be dialed using the internal hospital system. I was lucky I saw Susan after all, when I was on my way back to the old lady, which was after I had made my call. I still asked her to get the crash team if she could.” I added.
Milton made notes as he continued his questioning:
“When I entered the changing rooms, I gathered from the conversation I witnessed, that you and the other staff present do not know this old lady?”
“No, I don't. I found her in that bathtub – poor thing – and I did not find an ID on her and there was none when we transferred her to the trolley! I should try and find out though, knowing who she is and in particular her medical history, as this may be very important in regards to her treatment!”, I added.
Milton looked at me, his eyes were blue or grey and he had the habit of holding his gaze locked onto mine as to try and prize out anything hidden or suspicious. I couldn't help wondering that with a stare like that he could make anyone believe that he could penetrate their mind and find out what they were thinking of. Any lie would possibly be detected by this man, I thought. But what was I thinking, I was not lying and I had nothing to hide.
“How important?”, he questioned.
“Well, she could have allergies for instance, say to certain drugs. If we do not know about these there is a serious risk she could be given drugs she may react to and die as a result of that – that is the worst case scenario by the way!” I clarified.

Understanding the potential urgency, he then suggested to continue questioning me later and for me to do whatever it was to find out who the lady was. He told me he would come back later. He asked me the directions to the ITU department, which I gave him before he got up and walked away, emphasizing I should not leave until he had finished questioning me. Initially I did not really know where to start but that situation more or less resolved itself as Susan appeared and told me that Angela Griffin and Matron were on their way. Angela was the Sister in Charge that night for the whole of the hospital. She had already been informed by Susan what had happened and had been trying to contact Thomas, Trisha and Carly. I still asked Susan if she knew who the old lady could be, but she was as much in the dark about it as I was. She confirmed that the lady definitely had not been any patient of Thomas or other two nurses – there was basically no information about her whatsoever and what puzzled us even more, was who and why had she been put in the female changing rooms in an empty bath tub! Both Susan and I were convinced that the old woman had been in no state to have managed to get there by herself, so that left only one conclusion: someone or likely more than one person had put her there! Susan and I talked about what other options we had as to where the old woman could have come from – perhaps the Hospice or one of the Geriatric Wards - but we both did not want to step on anyone's toes and start making calls ourselves, whilst this was left better in the hands of the Sister in Charge or better, Matron.
As I was contemplating to call home and inform my child minder about the delay, DCI Milton returned and asked me if I was free to answer more of his questions. I nodded and we returned to the treatment room. He briefly asked me if I had managed to find out anything about the old woman and I shook my head. Susan got back to her rounds and her duties for that night. She needed to catch up on quite a few things, having been delayed by the events of the night. Milton was quick enough to remind her that he wanted a word with her too, whenever that was convenient. Knowing she would not go anywhere until the day shift would come on duty again, reassured him that there would be time to speak to her at some stage that evening or night.
“Do you know how your colleague, what's her name, eh, Susan -I will need her full name by the way- managed to call the Crash Team when there was no phone as you said?” Milton continued.
I blinked under his gaze and suddenly wondered too how Susan had done so. “I, eh, I don't know actually. She may have gone to the East wing, on the other side of the main hall, and use one of their phones!” I suggested. “Oh, and her name is Armstrong , Susan Armstrong!” I added.
“I need to get from you all the names and contact details of those who were working here besides yourself tonight, as we will need to ask them a few questions too”, he said.
“Of course”, I said and I explained to DCI Milton that the Sister in Charge was already dealing with this.
“Would you remember the approximate time you are claiming to have found the old lady?” Milton asked next.
“Claim

to have found?” I questioned, raising my voice slightly. “I am not claiming to have found her, I did

find her! I was in the shower, as I told you, ready to go home after that. I heard a noise and followed where it came from and found the poor woman! Are you insinuating I was the one who put her there?”
“It is just a question Mrs Lang. I do believe you found her!” Milton commented.
I paused before continuing, remembering his question again and feeling less defensive after his comment: “I can only guess what time it was when I discovered her. Let's see, I must have finished handover just after nine. I then had my shower which possibly took me no longer that ten minutes. Perhaps another few minutes to get changed and do my hair. Maybe it was around a quarter or twenty minutes past nine.”
A thought suddenly struck me! “Wait a minute!” I said, “I can check the call log on my mobile phone. I can find out exactly when I made the 989 call. It would have been after going back to the lady to check up on her after being unsuccessful in getting to a phone and no help from Thomas!”
As I was speaking to Milton I had retrieved my phone, touched some of the buttons and opened up my call log. I couldn't help that a blush of embarrassment crossed my face: it was very evident from the display that the second time I had made the call, after I had dropped my phone, I had indeed dialed 999 and not 989, as I had thought! I also noticed various missed calls as the 999 operator had obviously tried to get back in touch with me, likely to get more information, a name and location, but I had been too busy and, as I usually put my phone on silent mode when at work, I would not have known someone was trying to call me.
“Is there anything wrong Mrs Lang?” asked Milton inquisitively, no doubt having seen me blush.
“Sorry, I apologize. It looks like I did dial 999 after all! And please call me Elissa, Mrs Lang sounds old.” I said again whilst handing him my phone, so he could see for himself. He took the phone and made a note of the times: first the 989 call that I had not been able to finish, next the 999 call. He took his time.
I explained to him what had happened and also told him I had been convinced that I had called 989 the second time. It had never occurred to me that anything was wrong or different as the the hospital's 989 prompts tends to be so similar to that of a 999 call, I added. It now explained to me the altered reception I had encountered, which for an internal call would indeed have been a little strange.
DCI Milton just looked at me, held my eyes with his gaze and then nodded before jotting down some more notes and handing me my phone back.

A knock on the door made both of us turn around and look up as Susan opened it. “Sorry”, she said, “The Sister in Charge and Matron are here”.
Behind her two women appeared, one tall and slim, somewhere in her forties with reddish blond hair tied into a bun and a face with soft features and deep set eyes – I knew her as Angela Griffin, the Sister in Charge – and at the back an older, shorter and plumper woman with short hair that was obviously dyed black to hide the grey – this was Ms Coulton, the Matron of Eastfield's Hospital for the past 15 years. Ms Coulton looked like she was ready to explode, her face was red of contained anger and her dark eyes looked like thunder as she moved forward into the treatment room, passing Angela and, despite her shorter posture, managed to look almost twice her size.
“Nurse Lang, we need to have a serious word with you about violating hospital policy!” Matron voiced to me in a tone that quivered with hidden emotion.
“And who are you

and what are you doing here?” she asked haughtily, this time directing her posture and vision towards DCI Milton.
“I am DCI Milton and I am investigating attempted murder”, he said calmly.
“Murder?” Matron, Angela and I said at the same time. Susan caught my eyes and raised her eyebrows. I shook my head and raised my shoulders in response.
“I never called to report a murder”, I said strongly.
“I know”, answered Milton, looking at me. “You requested urgent assistance specifying this floor and the female changing rooms. Our 999 operator tried to call you back several times to obtain more information but were not successful.” God, did he

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