Desperately, Raj tried to think up a question he could ask to make it seem believable that he’d truly been studying. “Umm . . .” he voiced. “How do you know how small to make the stomach?”

“Good question,” Dr. Krishna said, switching to a professional mien as he answered it with the help of elaborate hand gestures. He caught Raj’s eyes longingly taking in the stairwell door, which they were passing. The surgeon stopped, interrupting himself. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Do you have to be someplace?”

“I do have to get home,” Raj said.

“Don’t let me hold you up,” Dr. Krishna said. “But I do have a question. How was it you were in Mr. Lucas’s room just when he suffered his terminal event?”

Raj’s mind desperately raced for an explanation. Making the tension even worse, he knew that every moment he hesitated, the less convincing he would be. “After the reading I’d done, I had some questions for the patient. But the second I got into his room, I knew there was something seriously wrong.”

“Was he conscious?”

“I don’t know. He was writhing around as if in pain.”

“That was probably the heart attack. It’s what usually kills these overweight patients. Well, you almost saved the day. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Raj said with a gulp, almost giving himself away. He couldn’t believe he was being thanked.

“I have some good journal articles on obesity surgery I can loan you if you’d like.”

“That would be terrific,” Raj managed.

After a quick shake of hands, the two men parted, Raj disappearing into the stairwell and Dr. Krishna heading for the central desk to fill out the death certificate and call the care manager and Khajan Chawdhry.

Once inside the stairwell, Raj had to pause. His heart was beating at such a rate that he felt mildly dizzy. Squatting down on his haunches for twenty or so seconds relieved the dizziness, and after wiping the cold sweat from his forehead he stood back up, holding on to the handrail. Relieved, he took a few steps down, and when he sensed he was back to normal, he let himself run down the rest of the stairs to the lobby floor.

Pleased that the lobby was as deserted as it was, Raj half ran across the room to the main exit door and left the building. Outside, he forced himself to slow to a rapid walk, finding it difficult not to give in to his panic and bolt. He felt like a bank robber exiting a bank with all the cash and every eye on him. At any moment he half expected to hear a shrill whistle and a shouted command to stop.