Operation Neurosurgeon

by Barbara Ebel

  The wine danced around in their heads, mellowing their thoughts. Casey slid over to Mary, put his arm on the back of the couch, and rubbed her left shoulder with his fingers. “Well, my friend,” he said, “you’ve been ‘had.’ We need to make some plans. You and I are going to hit every pawnshop around here.”

  “You think you’re going to find a high end piece of history in a place like that?” Mary asked.

  “If Rachel stole it, she has to know it’s valuable. She wouldn’t want it traced to her. I think she’d pawn it to get the cash.”

  “But Casey, if she’s as devious as she sounds, she could always say Danny gave it to her. She was practically living with him and Danny can’t prove anything. She could sell it to some kind of treasury collector.”

  “That’s true,” Casey said. “But we have to start somewhere and give it a shot. On the other hand, she may be planning on keeping the book until she’s an old lady.”

  “But I’ve got the time to poke around pawn shops,” Danny said. “Even merchandise for sale columns in newspapers.”

  “You know how you’re always complaining about not having the time to attend CME neurosurgery conferences?” Casey asked.

  “Yeah, now’s my opportunity,” Danny said. “But, I have to get my spot back with my group.”

  “Why don’t you consider looking elsewhere?” Mary took her foot, toasty warm in her blue sock, and rubbed it on Casey’s ankle. They had slithered further into the couch cushions, their legs extended on the cocktail table.

  “I don’t want to move away from here. I’m in a dilemma anyway. Even the two other neurosurgery groups in the region are not going to accept me under the present circumstances once they get wind of the reasons I was put on leave. No, I have to straighten this out.”

  “We need to know the outcome of the Parity case, too,” Casey said. “I’ll be your eyes and ears in the hospital. Sometimes I see your partners coming and going in the ER.”

  “Lord knows how Bruce and Harold are going to cover the call,” Danny said. Dakota exposed his belly and Danny leaned over to stroke him. “Listen, thanks for letting me stay here. It’s going to help not paying rent, but I’ll chip in for bills and groceries.”

  “Casey has the utilities and extras covered,” Mary said. “And don’t worry about eating with us. But, what are you going to tell Annabel and Nancy?”

  “I won’t tell them everything. But I’ll tell them the truth. I messed up in my practice and have to suffer the consequences. My job right now is to right my wrongs.”

  They went to bed, Casey and Mary to the master bedroom, exhausted from the long drive and late night, and Danny to the guest bedroom. Dakota sniffed around the room, amazed he was spending another night in the same place.

  ________

  In the morning, Danny and Casey listed all the pawnshops around Nashville then split them into regions, to poke through their contents, even if it took months. They wore blue jeans and sneakers and filled a slender thermos with coffee, and reluctantly left Mary to her painting and Dakota at home.

  For their first trip, they headed west fifty miles through an area bridging suburban Nashville and districts of farmland. They veered fifteen miles south off I-40 and found themselves driving in a cluster of gas stations, grocery marts, and sleepy strip malls. They pulled into a gravel lot facing Ritchie’s Pawn and Lucky’s Locksmith, both gray wood buildings out of a cowboy movie. A woman with a long ponytail and a fake fur jacket hurriedly swept the front porch of Lucky’s.

  “You looking for a thrifty deal or key replicas for your girlfriends’ apartments?” she asked, halting her broom. “I say that ‘cus your girls probably aren’t the trailer type.”

  “We’re going into the pawnshop,” Danny said.

  “You visit us when you’re finished. If you buy a gun in there, we got lock boxes for them too. We don’t just make keys.”

  Casey thanked her for the information as they opened the door to a neatly organized shop, a bell announcing their entrance. A clerk polishing a tarnished candleholder stood behind the counter, a large horizontal sign hanging above. We loan, we trade, we sell.

  “Can I help you?” the man asked, peering over reading glasses.

  Danny and Casey walked towards the glass case filled with rings, watches, and gemstones. Other shelves stored digital cameras, antiques, tools, and knickknacks. Casey tapped Danny’s arm, pointing to the far wall where the bulk of the items were old musical instruments. A scotch-taped sign hung on a large guitar: Could’ve been used by The King himself.

  “Perhaps,” Danny said back to the clerk. “We’re searching for a very old book. Do you happen to have a book on relativity by Albert Einstein, or have you dealt with it recently?”

  The man put down the polishing cloth and wiped his hands on a white towel. “That doesn’t sound familiar. I’d remember something like that. I have a fine motorcycle out back, though; be happy to give it away for just a few thousand dollars.”

  “We would be interested if we were in the market for one,” Casey said.

  “You two naïve to the pawn business?”

  “You can tell?” Casey laughed.

  “Sure can,” the man answered nicely. He smiled at them both and sat down on an oak stool behind the counter. “If this piece of history you’re talking about has been stolen, have you reported it to the police?”

  “We can’t prove it has,” Danny lamented.

  “I’ll be straight with you. As a pawnshop clerk, I must keep a list of tickets on items. A detective or policeman is in charge of pawnshop detail. They compare the list of tickets with their list of stolen property. They make regular, unannounced visits to pawnshops.”

  “Interesting,” Danny said. “Now we know.”

  “I’ve owned my shop a long time. Eat donuts with those guys. Best chance of finding your property is reporting it.”

  “You haven’t recently gotten in a girl’s opal bracelet, either, have you?” Danny asked.

  “No. I’m sorry. Give me your contact info. If they come in, I’ll call you since I can sell them back to you.”

  “Thanks. Appreciate that.”

  Danny and Casey left, crossed off Ritchie’s Pawn, which left seventeen remaining addresses on their list.

  ________

  For over a month, Casey kept a lookout for Harold or Bruce in the ER. He knew Danny’s partners in passing, but he hoped they would recognize him as the ER paramedic who was Danny’s friend. One Sunday afternoon as he stood talking at the curb with Mark, with a lull in an afternoon shift, Casey spotted Harold walking through the ER double doors. Casey tailed him inside but slowed when Harold ducked into the kitchen.

  Harold hit the ice machine with a Styrofoam cup then dispensed a soda. “Hey, you’re Danny Tilson’s friend, aren’t you?” Harold said when Casey stepped in behind him. Harold drank for several seconds. Danny recognized the dead-dog tired look on Danny’s partner. Even his shoulders sagged, heavy for sleep.

  “Danny and I do go back,” Casey said.

  “I sure do miss him. My partner and I are splitting call between us and I’m worn down. Feels like residency again. Maybe worse.”

  “Sounds gruelling,” Casey commented.

  “Yeah, I grow sleepy drinking a cup of coffee. But it should change soon.”

  “Why, you changing practices?” Casey asked, pouring coffee.

  Harold swigged more soda; hit the dispenser again to top off his cup. “Hell, no. We’ve hired a new doctor.”

  Casey grimaced at the bad news for Danny, not Harold. It had been a struggle for Mary and Casey to help Danny maintain a positive attitude; every day they encouraged him to believe his situation would improve.

  “Hey, listen, if you see Danny, tell him I said hello and that Bruce plans on calling him real soon.” Harold trudged away before Casey decided to pitch what he thought was moldy brew.

  ________

  That night, Mary and Casey talked softly after making love. “I just don’t kn
ow if I should tell him,” Casey said, curled in bed along Mary’s back, his right arm running lengthwise down her forearm to squeeze her hand.

  “Let’s not meddle with any of Danny’s professional business. Let him hear about the new hire from his partner.” Mary rolled over and clutched the cream sheet to cover their moist bodies. “Our family Einstein book is another matter. Have you both visited every pawn shop on your list?”

  “Only two more left with no leads from any of them. And every day Danny and I still skim through The Thrifty Nickel and other papers for merchandise for sale. Nothing.” Casey gave her hand a harder squeeze. “I’ve overlooked something I didn’t think of before.”

  Mary wiggled out of his embrace. “What?”

  “EBay. People dispose of stuff on-line all the time. I better start logging on to their site at least twice a week.”

  “You,” she said gleaming, “are a smart frog turned into a prince.”

  “And you, princess, have mystical eyes.”

  “You liar,” she said, tossing a handful of cotton sheet at him.

  “Am not. Come closer so I can see them better.”

  ________

  Every day at dawn, Dakota planted his muzzle on the bed, in Danny’s face. He sniffed, making Danny believe the dog evaluated him for the presence or absence of breathing. The dog followed that by placing his front end up next to Danny, keeping his rear legs on the floor. He dawdled there, nuzzling Danny, or resting his head with patience, or gurgling impetuous sounds as if it were time to get up.

  “Oh, all right.” Danny swiveled his legs to the side, pushing Dakota off the bed, and got up. He heard Casey in the hallway, leaving for a seven-to-three shift, as he stepped into brown corduroys and slid into a dark sweat shirt. He went downstairs and walked out the back door with Dakota. He tested the air without a jacket since spring had arrived, and made his way toward trees. Dakota sprang over several hills, marking trees and dispensing his morning duties. Danny surveyed; making mental notes for him and Casey. They wanted to rent equipment to aerate the lawn; they wanted to cull dead brush at the property line, prune some trees, and, with the girls, cultivate a small patch for strawberry and blueberry plants.

  Danny turned, walked the decline briskly, and called Dakota, who ran up with a stout, foot long stick, obviously delighted with his prey. “Drop it,” Danny said. Dakota let go, backed up with eyes glued on his master. His tail sailed erect, not a muscle flinched, he readied in anticipation for the retrieve. Danny threw it as far as possible and Dakota throttled forward to fetch it. He ran back, pleased. More of the same, his body pleaded.

  “You would retrieve until you dropped,” Danny said, shaking his head. He continued Dakota’s instinctive game until he yearned to quench the rumbling in his stomach so they went back inside. When Mary came downstairs and joined him, they made toast, and slowly read the newspaper, reading headline stories to each other. At 9 a.m, Danny answered the phone, surprised but fearful when he heard Bruce on the other end.

  “If you get a chance, drop by so we can talk.”

  A chance? He had room on his plate for plenty of chances. “I can drop in later,” he said, “if that’s not too soon.”

  “Five o’clock at the office,” Bruce said, and hung up.

  ________

  Later in the day, Casey arrived home to ditch his uniform and change into workout clothes. He wanted to leave Mary undisturbed until he left for the gym. When he spied on her from the doorway, she looked sumptuous in a pale blue sleeveless sweater, her shiny hair pulled loosely behind her. She sorted through a stack of wooden frame pieces.

  Casey grabbed his duffel bag, stuffed in a towel, gym gloves, and a headset and left the bedroom. He hadn’t checked eBay in a few days, so he ducked into the other bedroom to Mary’s desktop. Casey searched using two methods. He had gotten familiar with the predictable items he’d stumble on, so he zipped through the forty-two pages of entries under historical books. The usual dozens of historical romances also popped up. They even categorized them as American, French, or Italian. Did that mean they were written in particular countries or the lovers involved lived in those countries? He landed on the pages devoted to historical fiction, then major historical atlases and on and on, but didn’t find his target. He finished that scroll and went back into eBay’s search, typing Albert Einstein.

  Here, Casey had developed a fondness for a poster of the most important mind of the twentieth century riding a bicycle, but a close second was the genius in full protuberance of his tongue. He looked at the page numbers at the bottom, and it hadn’t changed: six total pages. On page four, he accessed books, but they were all new books about Albert Einstein, written by others. An old photograph of Einstein caught his attention, sitting in a chair, the seller claiming the signature at the bottom was an Einstein original. There was only twenty-four hours remaining to bid on it.

  Casey clicked next to page five. The very first item at the top made him catch his breath. Bingo. Relativity: The Special and the General Theory. Casey viewed the larger image. “Mary,” he shouted. “I’ve found something.”

  Mary came around the corner. “You trying to scare me to death? I had no …” She stopped, focusing on the monitor.

  “Read it,” she said, unwrapping a new paintbrush. She kneeled on the floor next to Casey’s chair.

  Own a genuine piece of museum quality history.

  A 1920 book by Albert Einstein. Einstein’s full authenticated signature resides on the front page!!!

  “That has to be it,” Mary said, tapping Casey’s elbow with excitement.

  “Minimum bid fourteen grand,” Casey said.

  “This has to be the mother of all pearls for people searching for Einstein collectibles.”

  Casey continued along the ad. “Hmm. Says here the seller is a well-respected, trust-worthy dealer using eBay and to contact him if you are dead serious about purchasing it. The ad says, ‘If I receive the minimum bid or higher from you, I will answer questions about the book’s authenticity.’”

  Casey looked at Mary, perplexed. “Well, it doesn’t appear to be Danny’s golden girl who is the seller.”

  “Let’s put in a bid, the minimum, and maybe he’ll email us back with his name and number,” Mary said. “It seems kind of fishy. I bet it’s Danny’s book.”

  ________

  At ten to five, the women at the front desk greeted Danny warmly and told him to wait in Bruce’s office. Cheryl took a patient’s blood pressure as the woman sat next to her counter. Cheryl gave Danny a sincere smile and gestured with her hand for Danny to stop. “Mrs. Andrews, please wait for Dr. Jacob in room three,” she said.

  The patient stepped away as Cheryl gave Danny a small hug. Danny reciprocated, puzzled by the strange doctor’s name. “Who’s Dr. Jacob?”

  “Our new doctor,” she said softly. “He doesn’t do as many craniotomies as you did, and he’s still getting his feet wet, but we like him. Anyway, how are you doing and how are your girls?”

  “The girls are fine, and I’m taking a day at a time.”

  Cheryl nodded. “It’s good to see you, Danny. Please help yourself to the coffeepot and the newspaper.” She pointed to the kitchen. “Bruce should be finished with a patient in a minute.”

  Danny poured a half cup and then went into Bruce’s office.

  “Danny, Danny, how are you?” Bruce extended his hand, gave Danny a healthy handshake, and motioned for him to sit. Bruce settled behind the desk and took his lopsided stethoscope off his neck and put it on the desk. “Well, I bet you’re wondering what happened with your lawsuit?”

  “Yes, I’m anxious to hear and am cautiously optimistic.”

  “The Parity dynamic duo pulled it off. The plaintiff settled after her attorney played games, making a stink, and strutting his feathers.”

  Danny let out a sigh and nodded several times. “For how much?”

  “A hundred and sixty thousand. Stewart and Richard tried to split it between one and two hundred
thousand, but it’s like the stiff attorney had something to prove. We threw in the towel to the extra ten grand. For legal roulette to go any further wouldn’t have been worth it.”

  Danny thought it over. “Bruce, thanks. I appreciate your part in this.”

  The horizontal lines from the corner of Bruce’s eyes seemed to smile. Danny reached over to drop his cup into the wastebasket.

  “I’ve hired another doctor.”

  Danny hesitated. “So I just found out.”

  “He’s a fine addition. Obviously, Harold and I needed the help. So now we can get back to your situation.”

  Danny braced himself. He couldn’t bear to think he would have to start over in another office, another town, hell, maybe even another country. He saw himself commuting to work on the Alaskan White Pass Railroad in the Yukon after applying for a Canadian license to practice.

  “We would like for you to start accumulating CME paperwork, a copy of your state license renewal, drug enforcement agency renewal and anything else that’s changed and bring them in.” Bruce pushed back in his chair and crossed his legs. “I should have asked you before, but there is one more thing I’d like you to do. Before we ask you to come back to join us, that is. Lord knows, we can use the expansion and nobody does heads like you.”

  Danny let go of clutching the left armrest and felt a tsunami of relief surge over him.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not asking you to see a shrink. And even if I did, that’s not a bad thing.” Bruce scrambled through a set of papers. “Here, this is Linda Atkins number. You might know her; she’s a psychologist in the building.”

  Anything to get his job back, Danny thought. There’s a first time for everything, even being analyzed on a couch.

  “She’ll see you for a while … to help determine if you are straight enough for the demands of medicine without distraction. Use the sessions to your advantage, Danny. Parity also recommended we do this. You and I will be comfortable for the record that you have no mental illness or strange personality disorder, and that there are no major problems.”