Chapter 11: Forty-Eight Hours Before His Death
Arthur opened the envelope.
Inside were copies of hospital records, medication administration logs, and several pages of handwritten nursing notes.
I recognized the hospital's name immediately.
It was the same hospital where Thomas had spent his final weeks.
I had practically lived there.
I remembered the smell of disinfectant, the squeaking wheels of medication carts, and the soft beeping of machines in the middle of the night.
I remembered holding Thomas's hand while he slept.
Now every memory seemed to carry a question.
Arthur placed the first page on the table.
“This is the original treatment authorization from the hospital's archived system.””
I leaned forward.
The document showed Thomas's treatment plan.
There were several medications listed, along with dosage instructions and physician approvals.
Then I noticed a red annotation.
*REVISED — 11:42 P.M.*
“What does that mean?””
Arthur adjusted his glasses.
“An amendment was submitted to Thomas's medication instructions.””
“Who submitted it?””
He pointed to the bottom.
The name was unfamiliar.
Dr. Martin Hale.
I looked at Margaret.
“Do you know him?””
She nodded.
“He was Thomas's attending physician during the final week.””
I remembered him.
A tall man in his early fifties with a calm voice and silver-rimmed glasses.
He had explained Thomas's condition to me several times.
I had trusted him.
Arthur continued.
“The revised instructions were entered electronically. However, the hospital's audit system indicates that the request did not originate from Dr. Hale's usual workstation.””
“Then where did it come from?””
“The administrative office.””
I stared at the screen.
A second document showed the authorization credentials used.
Elaine Porter's name appeared again.
My stomach turned.
“Did she have access to the medication system?””
“Not directly,” Arthur replied.
“But she had temporary administrative access under the disputed authorization.””
I looked at Margaret.
“So she could change my husband's treatment?””
“Potentially,” she said.
“But we don't yet know whether the amendment was actually carried out.””
Arthur placed another page before me.
It was a medication administration record.
One dose had been marked as withheld.
The reason was written in small print.
*Patient declined treatment.*
I shook my head.
“Thomas never refused treatment.””
Arthur looked at me.
“Are you certain?””
“Yes.””
I remembered Thomas asking for another chance, even when the treatments made him terribly sick.
He had told me he wanted to see the spring flowers.
He wanted to sit beside the lake again.
He wanted to celebrate our fortieth anniversary.
“He wanted to live,” I whispered.
Margaret placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Leah…”
I continued reading.
The medication had been withheld at 12:16 a.m.
The next note was entered at 12:31.
*Patient resting comfortably.*
Then, at 1:08 a.m., the attending physician had been notified of a sudden deterioration.
I looked up.
“What happened between those times?””
Arthur folded his hands.
“That is what the hospital is investigating.””
I couldn't sit still.
I walked toward the windows.
Outside, the estate lights illuminated the garden.
Everything looked peaceful.
But my mind was back in that hospital room.
Thomas's fingers had been cold.
His breathing had been shallow.
I remembered asking the nurse whether something was wrong.
She had told me it was normal for his condition.
I remembered a doctor saying there was nothing more they could do.
And I remembered waking up at dawn to find Thomas gone.
“Did anyone speak to me about the withheld medication?””
Arthur shook his head.
“No.””
“Why?””
“According to the records, the decision was documented as your husband's refusal.””
I turned.
“He never refused it.””
Margaret spoke quietly.
“Then someone may have falsified the record.””
Arthur nodded.
“Possibly.””
He removed another sheet.
“This is the most important part.””
The document showed a visitor access record.
At 11:18 p.m., a visitor had entered Thomas's hospital floor.
The name was Richard Whitmore.
I stared at the page.
“Richard was at the hospital?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Arthur shook his head.
“There is no recorded explanation.””
I looked at Margaret.
“Did you know?””
She slowly nodded.
“I saw his vehicle outside the hospital that night. I didn't know he had entered the building.””
I felt anger rising.
“He visited my dying husband and nobody told me?””
Arthur looked uncomfortable.
“There is more.””
He placed a final page on the table.
A second visitor had entered at 11:36 p.m.
The name was Jared Bennett.
My son's name.
I sat down.
“No.””
Arthur said nothing.
I read the time again.
11:36 p.m.
The medication amendment had been submitted six minutes later.
I looked toward the hallway.
Jared had gone back to the main estate after our confrontation at the northern property.
I called him.
He answered after two rings.
“Mom?””
“Were you at the hospital the night your father died?””
Silence.
Then he said, “Who told you that?””
“Answer me.””
He exhaled.
“Yes.””
I closed my eyes.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Dad asked me to come.””
“When?””
“Earlier that evening.””
“What did you do?””
“I spoke to him.””
“About what?””
“Business.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Did you see Richard Whitmore?””
Another pause.
“Yes.””
“What was he doing there?””
“He said he wanted to talk to Dad.””
“About the land?””
“I don't know.””
“Jared, the medical records show that an amendment was submitted minutes after you arrived.””
His voice became defensive.
“I didn't touch any medical records.””
“Did you see Elaine?””
“No.””
“Did you see your father refuse medication?””
“No.””
I lowered my voice.
“Then tell me exactly what happened.””
He was silent for so long that I thought he had hung up.
Finally, he spoke.
“Dad was angry. He told me he knew about the loan. He said I had betrayed him.””
I gripped the phone.
“What did you say?””
“I told him he was being unfair.””
“And?””
“He told me to leave.””
“Did you?””
“Yes.””
“What time?””
“I don't remember.””
“Was Richard still there?””
“I don't know.””
I closed my eyes.
“Jared, your father was dying. Why were you arguing with him?””
His voice cracked.
“Because he wouldn't help me!””
I felt tears fill my eyes.
“He had already helped you.””
“Not enough, Mom!””
The same words again.
I took a slow breath.
“Did your father tell you anything before you left?””
Jared hesitated.
Then he whispered:
“He said if anything happened to him, I should tell you to look inside the old clock.””
“What clock?””
“The grandfather clock in his study.””
I froze.
Thomas had owned an antique grandfather clock for nearly thirty years.
It had been in our family home until we moved Jared's belongings into storage after Thomas's funeral.
I had assumed it was still in the house.
“Where is it now?””
“I don't know. Vanessa arranged for a storage company to collect some of Dad's things.””
“Where did they take it?””
Jared's voice became quieter.
“Mom, I think it's at the Miami penthouse.””
My heart began pounding.
“Why would it be there?””
“I don't know.””
Then he said something else.
Something that changed the direction of the entire conversation.
“Dad told me there was a second will inside that clock.””
I stood up.
“A second will?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn't you tell me earlier?””
“Because I didn't believe him.””
“Did you ever see it?””
“No.””
I looked at Arthur.
He had heard everything.
“Jared,” I said, “I want that clock returned.””
He hesitated.
“Mom, you need to understand something.””
“What?””
“Vanessa's father has been looking for it too.””
The call ended.
I turned toward Arthur.
He looked deeply troubled.
“Mrs. Bennett, if Thomas placed a second will inside that clock, we need to retrieve it immediately.””
Margaret nodded.
“I'll arrange transportation.””
Arthur shook his head.
“Not yet. If Richard knows about the clock, he may already be looking for it.””
I looked at him.
“What could be so important about a second will?””
May you like
Arthur slowly closed his briefcase.
“Something that could change the inheritance completely.””
