Ludwig wasn't sure what was being said. Was the Captain truly thanking him or dismissing him out of hand?
"Are you going to act on my information?"
"I'll write up a report on our discussion, as I have to with all potential witnesses, and the report will be added to our files on the Foley and McMichael matters. As I said, if we need anything else, we'll be in contact. I imagine we can find you at the university."
Ludwig leaned forward. He felt like he was in a strange parallel world, one where all the words he spoke fell on deaf ears, leaving him abandoned and alone.
"Is that it?" he said. "That's all you're going to do?"
"We're doing everything we can. If you don't mind showing yourself out, we have a lot of work to get back to here."
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Diana knew she couldn't be patient. She knew that sitting around the apartment waiting for Dan to call or come by would drive her nuts. Too many unpleasant memories. Too many reminders of nights spent waiting for him to call, waiting to find out if it were possible to see him, even for just a few minutes. Adding the anxiety over the missing persons cases to that would be enough to send her crawling out of her skin.
She jumped in her car and drove north, heading for Vienna Woods and a visit with her mother. At least there she had a chance to be appreciated. If her mother was in a somewhat coherent state, Diana might come face to face with someone who was happy to see her.
*
Diana followed the signs to the second floor. It was quieter up there than on the first floor. Less moaning and wailing from the patients, fewer shouts and grunts from the employees. Diana chalked it up to the wonders of sedation, and the likelihood that the patients on the second floor were in much worse shape than those below. Their fates were closer to being sealed, or at the very least, they were all closer to accepting the hand being dealt. She imagined the third floor looked and sounded like a morgue.
She stopped at the nurse's station and told them who she was. The nurse at the desk gave Diana what felt like a judgmental once over and asked if she had spoken to her mother's social worker.
"Maria?"
"Maria doesn't work on the second floor. You have to speak with Deborah. I'll call her. Just have a seat."
Diana waited on a hard plastic chair. She looked up and down the hallway, wondering which room belonged to her mother. She'd stayed away just like they'd asked, but she began to wonder if something had gone wrong and they had failed to inform her. Couldn't be, she decided. It just couldn't be. But then why did she have to check in with yet another social worker if everything remained the same?
After ten minutes, a woman came down the hall. She wore a long, flowing skirt and, unlike Maria, her long hair hung loose past her shoulders. Bracelets jangled on the woman's wrist as she held out her hand and introduced herself as Deborah, the new caseworker for Diana's mother.
"I like to talk to the families of the new patients in my care," Deborah said, taking the seat next to Diana. "When's the last time you saw your mother?"
"It's been close to a month," Diana said, trying to fight off the guilt. "I was told that my presence upset her too much."
Deborah nodded, the model of sympathetic understanding. "Sure, sure. Sometimes we suggest that for Alzheimer's patients. It allows them to acclimate to their new surroundings better."
"Is something wrong with my mom?" Diana said. "Something more than what was already wrong?"
Deborah smiled, but it looked strained. "You're going to notice some changes in your mother during this visit, changes that reflect the progression of her illness. It's not that anything is wrong, per se. It's just a further manifestation of the symptoms she already demonstrated. She may not know who you are at all. She may not respond to any outside stimuli. The disease seems to be progressing much more rapidly in your mother's case than is normally expected."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Just be prepared for these changes and be patient with them."
"Of course," Diana said, forcing a smile of her own. Maria must have briefed Deborah on the difficult daughter, the one who shows up at the hospital and sends the patient spinning out of control. Diana resolved to be the perfect little visitor, the perfect and dutiful daughter. "Can I see her now?"
"Sure. Right this way."
*