“That’s the single aspect of the event on the positive side,” Ramesh said. “It was at the Aesculapian Med Center on this occasion.” In a way, Ramesh was provoking Shashank with this comment, knowing the Aesculapian Med Centers were just as much a part of Shashank’s holdings as the Queen Victoria Hospital. “The bad aspect is that the patient was young and leaves behind a wife and two children. Such a story frequently garners more media attention because of the sympathy angle.”

“You don’t have to tell me what I already know.”

“The other problem is this Jennifer Hernandez. Somehow she’s got herself involved in this case as well as the last one, even though it was at a different hospital.”

“What has she done?”

“You understand that on sensitive cases like this we want to avoid autopsies, because autopsies are like feeding wood to a fire. The less attention the better, so we avoid the media and specifically avoid giving them anything newsworthy, which frequently autopsies are.”

“I understand. It makes sense. Don’t make me ask again!” Shashank growled. “What has she done?”

“She’s somehow convinced both widows to demand autopsies.”

“Shit!” Shashank snapped.

“I’m curious,” Ramesh said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I asked you this afternoon if you could find someone who could talk with her and convince her that what she is doing is not in her best interests and that maybe, just maybe, it would be far better for her to take her grandmother’s remains back to America before she severely impacts Indian medical tourism. Later this afternoon, I was informed of quite a number of patients making last-minute cancellations of their scheduled surgeries, not only from America but also Europe.”

“Cancellations, you say.”

“Yes, cancellations,” Ramesh repeated, knowing that Shashank’s business mind closely associated cancellations with lost revenue.

“I must confess that this afternoon I put off taking your suggestion,” Shashank growled, “but I’ll look into it right now.”

“I think you’d be doing Indian medical tourism a big favor. And in case you’ve forgotten, she’s staying at the Amal Palace Hotel.”

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

OCTOBER 17, 2007
WEDNESDAY, 10:58 P.M.
DELHI, INDIA

Excuse me, sir,” the cabin attendant said as she gently shook Neil McCulgan’s shoulder. “Could you raise the back of your seat? We’re in the final approach, and we’ll be landing at the Indira Gandhi International Airport in just a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” Neil said, and did as he was told. He yawned, then pushed back in his seat and wiggled around to get comfortable. Despite having left Singapore almost an hour and a half late, they were arriving only an hour late. Somehow they’d managed to pick up a half-hour, even though they’d been flying into the jet stream.

“I’m impressed with how well you sleep on a plane,” Neil’s immediate seat neighbor said.