One day I was going to have to invest in a good digital camera. Or even a cheap one. Today was not the day. I’d borrowed Granddad’s ancient Polaroid Land Camera. And I do mean ancient. He’d had it when I was little and probably even longer than that.
But just to make sure the thing still worked, I’d taken some candid shots of Higgins this morning after Granddad went out to run some errands and to check on the Widow Smith – whatever that meant.
Looking at the temperamental cat in the Polaroids with eyes that made him look like the spawn of Satan, I was convinced the instant camera would serve my purposes well. Granddad had shelves full of film. And flashbulbs.
Yowser. The bulbs had really lit the cat up. I couldn’t imagine what those little gems were going to do to our patients.
Yes, I’d come up with a new form for patient charts. I was going to document that our patients were who they said they were, complete with picture identifications. It was the only way I could think to get a picture of Joe Rizzo without raising undue suspicion. And still be able to keep my job.
In case I was somehow wrong and Joe was not the person Daisy saw, I checked the appointment book and the doctors’ personal schedules for clients who might have known either Robert O’Malley and/or Anna Blake and fit the general description of the killer.
Male, mid-30s to 50s with dark hair.
That could be a lot of people.
Good thing I was equipped with lots of film and flashbulbs.
After an uneventful morning of snapping shots, I readied myself for Joe’s afternoon appointment. Praying that Marcy’s appointment ran over, I checked and double-checked the camera to make sure it was ready to go when Joe walked through the door.
Five minutes to two. Dr. Daley was at the hospital making rounds and still no sign of Marcy’s current session ending. So far, so good. Now all I needed was the patient.
I didn’t have long to wait.
Joe Rizzo entered the office at his customary arrival time of two minutes to two.
“She in?” he asked and stood in front of my desk.
“Sure is. Running a bit behind schedule. But I expect she’ll be through any moment.”
Joe handed me his credit card for his copayment. But before I processed it, I asked him to sign the new form for his chart.
Patients rarely questioned what they’re asked to sign. It’s a disturbing trend.
“Now before you take a seat, this is the second part of our new form. I need a pictorial ID of you.”
Joe reached back into his wallet and extracted his driver’s license before I could stop him.
“Oh no, I can’t use that. We need a non-governmental, non-agency photo.” Whatever the heck that meant. I lifted the Polaroid camera. “Stand right there and I’ll get a quick picture for the file.” I snapped off a shot before he knew what was happening.
“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. What the hell did you hit me with? I can’t see a fricking thing.” He rubbed his eyes and blinked rapidly.
I popped the used bulb out and threw in another. As soon as his face appeared reasonably like I was used to seeing it, I clicked off another shot.
“Holy bat shit! Are you trying to burn the retinas right out of my head? Does that camera have lasers attached to it? What is it some souped-up shrink special?” He danced around the office and swatted at the lights he must be seeing.
I remembered the feeling well from Christmases past when Granddad stood behind the camera and I opened my presents.
Presents that always appeared to have thousands of bright lights surrounding them.
“Careful, Joe. You don’t want to fall.” I got up from the desk to steady him. That’s all I needed, to have a patient fall and break a hip. How quickly would I be spelling unemployment then?
“Is that equipment legal? Are you sure you’re doing it right? I don’t think it should blind the other person, do you?
“Have a seat and let your eyes calm down. Try keeping them closed for a few minutes.”
“It doesn’t help. I can still see stars even with my eyes closed. Only now they’re red. It’s like staring at the eclipse or Mars. You know, The Red Planet. But that time I was tripping. Yeah, it’s kind of like a bad drug trip without any of the benefits. Has anyone else complained?”
Perhaps I’d hit him with the flashes too close together. I sure hope I hadn’t done any permanent damage to his eyes.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed up his face while keeping his eyes shut. “Shouldn’t I be getting better by now?”
Hmm…yes, he should be. I reached over and examined the latest bar of bulbs I’d used. Granddad!
I should have known. He always did go overboard on stuff.
These bulbs were an off-brand I’d never heard of. I read the ad on the box. “The Space Bulb 2000. Light Your Way to Better Shots. Takes night pictures, too.” Oh great.
Hurrying to the water cooler, I dabbed a couple of tissues under the tap and soaked them until they were a soggy mess. But they were all I had available. “Here, put these on your eyes. It’ll help take the sting out.”
“Sting? Sting? We’re talking serious burning here.”
I didn’t doubt it. I could choke Granddad and his Space Bulbs.
How had I grabbed a pack of those suckers and why, oh why had I used them on Joe of all people? All of my other shots had gone perfectly. And the one person whose image I desperately needed to capture was a disaster.
Marcy opened the door to her suite and maneuvered her patient out of the suite. Turning, she frowned, demanding in a low voice, “Becca, what’s going on? Why is my client soaking his head? Joe, please tell me you’re not stoned again.
I slid the camera behind me and waited nervously for Joe to reply. Instead, he groaned. Marcy lifted an eyebrow in my direction. “Stoned?” she mouthed.
I was going to hell, anyway, what was one more little lie? I nodded and rolled my eyes. “Who’d like coffee?” I offered brightly.
Dr. Palmer helped an unsteady Joe Rizzo to his feet, while I poured them both a cup of coffee. Then I crept away in order to see how my pictures had turned out.