doing.’
‘What are they doing?’ Hawk stared through the wind-screen as he opened his door. He hadn’t recognised the paramedics who had been listening to his talk yesterday. Funny, Laura looked far less mousy performing her duties. She looked competent…and busy.
‘Laura’s intubating him. It secures the airway and makes breathing for the patient far more effective.’ Charlotte pushed her door shut. ‘Let’s see if they have anything to tell us before we start on the scene, shall we?’
Hawk usually stayed well away from any paramedics when they were obviously occupied with trying to save someone’s life. His protocol dictated reporting in to any senior police or fire officer on scene to start gathering information, but Charlotte had already stepped towards the paramedics and Laura had spotted her.
‘Hi, Charlie! You’re on the job early.’
‘No time like the present. This is my partner, Owen.’
Laura tied the tape securing the endotracheal tube in place. She attached the ambubag and then glanced up briefly as she pulled her stethoscope from around her neck.
‘We met yesterday.’ She nodded. ‘Hi, Owen.’
Hawk simply nodded. He hated being called Owen.
‘Do you need a hand?’ Charlotte asked.
‘You could bag him while I draw up some drugs…if Owen can spare you, that is. Back-up should only be a minute or two away.’
Charlotte glanced at Hawk, clearly requesting permission to give assistance, and to his surprise, Hawk found himself nodding. It was only for a minute or two after all and he could easily use the time to gain an overall impression of the scene.
Laura was silent for a few seconds as she squeezed the ambubag and checked for air entry by listening over both sides of the man’s chest with her stethoscope. ‘We’ll go into Emergency under CPR if necessary but I’m still hopeful. It could be that he was unconscious for a while before actually arresting. Bystander CPR was initiated quickly and he was still in coarse VF by the time we arrived.’
‘VF?’ Hawk couldn’t help exposing his ignorance again.
‘Ventricular fibrillation.’ Charlotte gave him a quick glance. ‘The worst kind of wiggle. The finer it is, the closer to a flat line it is. If it’s coarse there’s more chance of converting it to a useful rhythm.’ She turned back to Laura. ‘Was the arrest witnessed?’
‘Kind of.’ Laura’s partner, Tim, had restarted chest compressions. ‘The car was seen to pick up speed as it came downhill and it veered across the other two lanes and left the road. It cut one car off and the witness said that the driver appeared to be slumped over the wheel.’
‘Who was the witness?’
‘That guy over there in the pinstripes. He was the one who made the triple-one call. He started the CPR as well as soon as they got him out of the car. He’s a bit shaken up,’ Laura added. Her smile at Charlotte was sympathetic. ‘You might like to tell him what a great job he did.’
‘I’ll go and talk to him,’ Hawk said. Another ambulance was pulling up and he felt out of place. So much for his statements from only yesterday about being on the same team and the desirability of knowing as much as possible about how each branch of the emergency services did their jobs. If Hawk had been that interested in what paramedics did, he would have become one himself, instead of joining the police force. Knowing each other’s jobs too well meant that it was possible to step in and assist instead of getting on with what they were supposed to be doing.
As Charlotte was demonstrating so ably. A second shock had elicited a normal but very slow heartbeat. Charlotte was handling supplies from the paramedic kit with the ease of complete familiarity. Her long fingers were snapping ampoules and drawing up drugs into syringes. Hawk found himself mesmerised for a split second. Her fingers were as long and elegant as the rest of this woman. The flash of curiosity regarding what they might feel like touching his body came from absolutely nowhere and it was as startling as it was disturbing.
It was easy to summon anger to blanket such an undesirable emotion. This was precisely what Hawk had feared might happen. His partner was doing someone else’s job and he was being left to work alone on the tasks she had actually been employed to do.
Except that she was only a step behind him by the time Hawk had conferred briefly with the scene commander and opened the back hatch of the squad car to get the equipment he needed. He picked up a digital camera and a can of spray paint.
‘Have you spoken to the witness?’
‘Not yet. There’s pressure on to shift the wreck and get traffic flowing. I’m going to mark its position and get some photos before the tow truck moves in.’ Hawk glanced up as the ambulance rolled past. The vehicle’s beacons were flashing blue and red and its siren was activated as soon as it cleared the cordoned-off area. The noise was deafening for a moment and Hawk frowned.
‘What’s with the siren? That’s not usual procedure for a return trip, is it?’
‘It’s a status-one patient. Post-arrest.’ Charlotte told him. ‘They need to get him to hospital as quickly as possible.’
‘Is he going to survive?’
‘I hope so,’ Charlotte said quietly. ‘His rhythm looked good and he was breathing spontaneously by the time he was loaded. We found his driver’s licence,’ she added. ‘His name is Duncan Thomson. He’s only forty-four.’
Only eight years older than Hawk. Suddenly the incident became more than a job. More than a scene of a traffic snarl-up and a major inconvenience for a large number of people trying to get to work. The strength of his own hope that the man would survive took Hawk by surprise. He didn’t get emotionally involved with the victims of serious crashes. Never had. You couldn’t afford to if you wanted to stay in this line of business for any length of time. Had the fact that he’d been more aware of what the paramedics were doing made the difference? If so, it could be another black mark to chalk up against having to work with Charlotte Laing.
Charlotte watched Hawk as he turned abruptly and strode towards the wreck. Her eyebrows rose as he walked straight past the man in the pinstripe suit, who was standing with a junior police officer. The witness still looked pale and shaken but he was clearly pulling himself together. Charlotte saw him look at his watch and then point to a sedan parked on the road’s shoulder some distance uphill. Clearly, he wanted to leave the scene. Pulling a small notebook and pen from the pocket of her shirt, Charlotte also picked up a can of spray paint from the crate in the back of the squad car and moved purposefully.
‘I’m Charlotte Laing,’ she introduced herself to the witness, ‘from the Serious Crash Squad. Thanks so much for waiting so long. Can you spare another minute or two to answer some questions for me?’
‘Sure…I guess.’ The man looked at his watch again. ‘But I’m running awfully late for work.’
‘It won’t take long,’ Charlotte promised. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Andrew Duggan.’
‘You did a great job, here, Andrew. It was you who made the triple-one call, wasn’t it?’
The man nodded.
