getting better, thenâ¦â She held up her small hands. âPoof! They go to heaven.â
âIt must be very sad for you,â Judith said, âto see these people and their families and then to have them die so unexpectedly. I suppose all their loved ones were extremely shocked. Did anybody say what might have happened?â
Maya waved a hand in a vexed gesture. âThey say too little and too much. The doctors, they donât understand what happens. Not their fault, they say. Canât explain. Maybe patient have unknown sickness or takebad medicine. The families, they cry, they make threats, they blame doctors, nurses, everybody in hospital. Why, right now, Mr. Kirby, the husband of the actress, heâs here again, making the big fuss.â Maya shook her head. âWhat is fame, what is riches, if you die too soon? So sad, so very sad.â
âMr. Somosa left a wife, but no children, I believe,â put in Renie as Maya delivered her tray. âThe Kirby children are grown, and I guess the Randall kids are, too.â
Maya nodded several times. âYes. Mrs. Somosa, so pretty, so young, she had to be put in the hospital herself, she was so filled with grief. Now she has gone back to her homeland, the Dominican Republic, I believe. Mr. Somosa was buried there, with his ancestors. The Kirby children I never saw, they live far away, but they must have come for the funeral, yes? And now Mr. Randallâ¦Oh, my! Mrs. Randall, she will be in the hospital, too, if she doesnât stop crying so.â
âMaybe the children can help,â Judith said. âI understand theyâre at the hospital now.â
Mayaâs dark eyes flashed. âThatâs so.â She put a finger to her lips. âKnow what? They are with Mr. Kirby. Why do you think?â
âI donât know,â Judith said.
âI do,â Maya said with an emphatic nod. âThey talk of a cabal.â
Judith stared. âA cabal? What sort of cabal?â
âA plot to kill these poor souls,â Maya declared with a swift glance over her shoulder to make sure the door was firmly shut. âWhat else?â
Judith made an extra effort to look impressed. âWho would do such a thing?â
Maya waved her hand again. âThe riffraff. The rabble. The kind of people who hate the rich and famous. Communists, no doubt. Itâs what you call a vendetta.â She clenched a fist and made stabbing motions, as if she held a dagger.
The door opened suddenly and Heather Chinn appeared, looking suspicious. âYour lunch cart is outside, Maya,â said the nurse. âIs everything all right in here?â
âYes, yes,â Maya said, smiling, her compact little figure all but bouncing toward the doorway. âThese fine ladies, they need what you call the pep talk. You know Maya, she can give the good pep talk.â
Heather stepped aside as Maya made her exit. âI hope she wasnât pestering you,â Heather said to the cousins, a faintly wary expression lingering on her face. âMayaâs quite a talker.â
âSheâs interesting,â Judith said.
âYes,â Heather agreed, turning to leave, âbut donât pay much attention to her. She likes to hear herself talk.â
The nurse departed, closing the door behind her. âWell?â Judith said. âHow much of Mayaâs spiel do you believe?â
âNone of it,â Renie replied, lifting lids and looking dismayed. âIt seems we have bath sponge for lunch.â
Judith also examined the meal. Everything was a pale yellow, including the lettuce leaves in the salad. âIt might be some kind of creamed chicken onâ¦something. Toast?â Judith prodded the gelatinous mass with her fork. âHunh. Whatever. We also have pears, more apple juice, and a big, fat, unattractive cookie with jaundice-yellow frosting. No wonder I donât have much