story. Try as she might, she just couldn’t stop thinking about the murder. Something just didn’t seem right.
“Hannah’s been like a mother to me,” Nancy had been quoted in the Girls’ Life article. “How strange,” Cherry mused, “that helpful Hannah, who had given a lifetime of care to Mr. Clue and his motherless daughter, should turn out to be a murderess.” She wished she had time to examine the newspaper article. Perhaps there was something she had missed, something that would explain the odd turn of events.
Like her heroine, Cherry had earned a reputation as a detective. In her first month at General Hospital she had solved the mystery of the vanishing valium. Using cool logic and keen sleuthing, she was able to follow a trail to Dr. Kildare and expose him as a thief who supported a lavish lifestyle by selling dangerous drugs pilfered from the hospital. Now her detective skills were being put to good use on the psychiatric ward, where hospital authorities had twice called upon her to help identify amnesia victims.
The drama of hospital life suited Cherry, who was happiest when she was helping others. The recent nursing school graduate found her work at the big city hospital exciting after a lifetime in the sleepy farm town of Pleasantville, Idaho. And she especially loved a good mystery! She had already helped to identify one amnesia victim, now home and safe with her family. But try as she might, she wasn’t getting any closer to identifying the other amnesiac, tagged Jane Doe #313 by hospital authorities, but nicknamed Lana by the nurses because of her striking resemblance to the beautiful blond movie star Lana Turner.
There certainly weren’t many clues to go on, Cherry thought as she reviewed the case. Lana had appeared at the hospital two days before, carrying a paper sack containing a small black plastic comb, a brand-new tube of red lipstick, and a hardcover book to which she seemed unnaturally attached. No identification papers were found, and her simple, well-made clothes had no labels.
Lovely Lana quickly became the newest attraction on the ward, charming everyone with her delightful manners and sweet disposition. Even gruff Head Nurse Marstad had succumbed to her charms and had been seen at Lana’s bedside with a box of chocolates in her hand.
So far, Cherry had been frustrated in her attempts to draw anything personal out of Lana, who had remained vague during their two late-night conversations. Cherry sighed. Despite all her efforts, she had been unable to find even one piece of the puzzle.
“Tonight I’ll try extra hard to dig up a clue,” she vowed, as she carried the tray of medication through the ward. She smiled as she surveyed the attractive room, painted a cheery salmon and filled with flowers. Many nurses disliked the night shift, and would have let the long hours dampen their spirits, but not Cherry. She loved nursing under any conditions, and she especially liked working at the overcrowded old city hospital, where the patients really seemed to need her.
As a young girl she had often dreamt of a night just like tonight; dreamt of being in charge of a ward of patients, ready to soothe their pain using her gentle bedside manner in combination with the most up-to-date medical equipment available. Cherry patted her little cap and smoothed her hair into place. What a picture she made with her starched white uniform ironed just so and her crisp white cap pinned at a jaunty angle atop shiny black curls.
Suddenly the squeak of rubber-soled nurse’s shoes on shiny linoleum woke Cherry from her daydream.
“Sleeping on the job, Nurse Aimless?” Nurse Marstad asked, her arched eyebrows framing steely gray eyes. Cherry was too afraid to answer. She shook so hard the pills on her tray rattled.
“Well, Nurse?” Nurse Marstad asked, tapping her pencil against the little black book she held in her hand. Everyone knew Nurse Marstad kept a record of every infraction and referred to the book when deciding upon promotions and salary increases. Cherry had worked and prayed all year for a promotion from probation nurse to permanent staff, and so far her record was spotless. But today she had been caught off her guard twice. Surely Nurse Marstad wouldn’t be so cruel as to blemish her record over these slight transgressions? Or would she?
Cherry looked at the stern nurse through teary eyes. Nurse Marstad was scribbling furiously in her book. Hadn’t her mother warned her to get her head out of the clouds before something terrible happened? “Oh, why didn’t I listen to mother?” Cherry groaned to herself. “And on the eve of my big vacation!”
Cherry took a few deep calming breaths and got down to the business of nursing, under the austere gaze of Nurse Marstad. She was relieved to see that her first patient was Miss Lillian Bee, a quiet elderly woman suffering from a strange sleeping sickness. Cherry took a deep breath and began preparing Miss Bee’s injection. She blushed as she readied the syringe. Nurse Marstad’s attention made her nervous, and she clumsily dropped the needle. She hastily prepared a fresh injection, hoping the head nurse hadn’t noticed.
But she had noticed and was making another notation in her black book. Cherry blushed a deep crimson, her red cheeks highlighting her fair coloring and sparkling green eyes. She bit her ruby lips as she prepared a sterile needle. Giving injections was difficult for her, as she hated to cause the slightest bit of pain to any living creature, even if it was for their own good.
Just as she was moistening a cotton pad with antiseptic, a voice called for Nurse Marstad over the intercom. With a brusk “Carry on, nurse,” Nurse Marstad left the ward. Cherry breathed a deep sigh of relief.
With Nurse Marstad gone, Cherry competently injected Miss Bee, plumped her pillow and gave her a relaxing shoulder rub. She was glad the head nurse had been called away. Cherry was an efficient and kind nurse, as her patients would willingly testify, but there was something about Nurse Marstad that always unnerved her!
She finished soothing Miss Bee, and moved to her next patient. It was Lana, the amnesia victim. Although there was nothing physically wrong with Lana, Cherry was sorely tempted to massage her, too. Tonight her patient seemed unusually sad. She was sitting on the edge of her narrow hospital cot, clutching her book, with a faraway look in her eyes. It took her a moment to realize Cherry was at her side.
“I bet she’s upset because it’s been two whole days and we haven’t made any progress on her case,” Cherry guessed, vowing to double her efforts to identify Lana. Perhaps there was something she’d overlooked, she thought, surveying Lana with keen eyes.
“Perhaps there’s a clue in the book?” Cherry wondered. She remembered that Nurse Marstad had admitted Lana to the ward. “She’s so thorough, she surely would have checked,” Cherry realized.
Suddenly an idea came to her. “Lana must be married—she’s wearing a gold band. I wonder if anyone has looked inside her ring. If it’s engraved, it will be our first clue. I must see that ring!”
“Oh, what a pretty ring,” Cherry remarked, trying to keep her tone casual.
“Like it?” Lana asked, polishing it on her hospital-issue cotton smock. Somehow even the cotton gown looked like a couture dress on lovely Lana. “My honey gave it to me,” she said, looking wistful. Much to Cherry’s delight, Lana seemed genuinely interested in showing off her ring.
“Oh, your hands are so tiny! I bet that ring wouldn’t fit on my pinkie!” Cherry exclaimed, hoping to get her hands on it.
It worked. Lana took off her ring and handed it to Cherry. “Try it on; I bet your hands aren’t as big as you think.”
Cherry slipped the ring on her finger, then took it off. She pretended to admire its smooth surface as she looked for an inscription. She found what she was looking for.
“From G.A. to C.M. with love,
