Marker

by Robin Cook

  “ ‘Surprising’ is the adjective that springs mostly to my mind. How could this have happened?”

  “I hope you are not blaming me. If you remember the day before, you had asked me where I was in my cycle. I told you that it was probably safe, but that it was close. When we made love, it was technically the next day, and obviously not safe.”

  “Why didn’t you put a limit on our lovemaking?”

  Laurie glared at Jack. “You are starting to anger me again. It sounds like blame to me, and you know something, it was the two of us involved in the decision to make love, not just me, and we both had the same facts.”

  “Calm down,” Jack said appeasingly. “I’m really not placing blame. Honest! I’m just trying to understand. Your being pregnant has taken me totally and completely by surprise. We had done well to avoid it in the past. Why did we mess up on this occasion?”

  Laurie glare softened. She took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. “Well, at this point, it’s probably best to be completely honest. That morning, when I began to suspect that we might make love, I did think that we were taking a chance, and I was certain you did, too. It wasn’t a huge chance in my mind, considering I thought it was the tenth day, but a chance nonetheless. With as much as I wanted a family with you for both our sakes, I was comfortable with the risk. From your point of view, I thought that somewhere in the depths of your soul, you were of the same mind, with the idea that conceiving a child would help push you beyond your past to start a whole new personal life. Maybe I was projecting too much of my own desires onto you, I don’t know, but that was the long and short of how I felt.”

  Jack mulled over what Laurie had said. Absently, he chewed the inside of his cheek in the process. Life had thrown him some curveballs, and this one seemed right up there with the best of them. The shock of being presented with the news that he had possibly fathered another child caught him completely off guard. It also terrified him, mainly because he feared he would love it too much and it would make him as vulnerable as he’d been in the past. Losing a family had been the biggest trial of his life, and he doubted he could survive it again. Yet on top of these disturbing thoughts was another, more positive one. If he had learned nothing else in the past miserable six weeks, he’d at least learned that he loved Laurie more than he had admitted. How that was going to play out in the current situation he had no idea. He had no idea how she felt about her current boyfriend.

  “I have trouble with these silences of yours,” Laurie said. “Not only is it not like you, but I need feedback. Anything, even if it is bad. I need to know how you feel. We have some decisions to make, or if you don’t want to be involved, tell me. Then I’ll make the decisions myself.”

  Jack nodded. “Of course I want to be involved, but this is a little unfair. It’s difficult for me to have all this dumped in my lap and then be expected to respond in the spur of the moment. In fact, it seems to me to be unreasonable for you to expect that. I would have preferred that you told me the moment when you learned so that we could both have had a chance to think in tandem. Then, at this dinner we could have shared our thoughts.”

  “You have a point,” Laurie admitted. “I don’t mean to put you on the spot, even though I wish you would respond the way I want you to respond.”

  “And how is that?”

  Laurie reached across the table and gripped Jack’s forearm. “I’m not going to put words into your mouth other than to hope this event can be positive and draw you out of your grieving role. Having a child will not demean your late family. But go home and think about it. I’m on call this weekend, so if I’m not at home, I’ll be at the OCME. I’ll wait for your call.”

  “Fair enough,” Jack said in a tired voice.

  “Hey, don’t get depressed on me,” Laurie chided.

  “I won’t get depressed, but I can tell you one thing. I’m no longer hungry.”

  “Neither am I,” Laurie said. “Let’s call it a night. We’re both strung out.” Laurie raised her hand and the waiter came over on the run.

  sixteen

  ROGER LEANED BACK AND stretched his arms up toward the ceiling. They felt cramped after the hours he’d spent leaning over the library table in the conference room of the human resources department of St. Francis Hospital. Stacked around the table in little individual piles were numerous pages of computer printouts, plus a recently burned CD. Sitting across from him was the department head, Rosalyn Leonard. She was a serious-appearing, tall, striking woman with inky black hair and porcelain skin who had initially intimidated Roger since she seemed immune to his charm, which Roger took personally. It was inordinately important for him to think of himself as attractive to women he thought were attractive. But persistence had paid off, and as the hours had passed, he had finally prevailed. Ever so slowly at first, she had begun to warm. During the last hour, he felt she was flirting in return. The fact that she was not wearing a wedding band was not lost on Roger, and as the day melded into evening, he had tactfully inquired about her social status. When he learned that she was single and currently between relationships, he even considered taking the risk of asking her for a dinner date, especially if things didn’t work out with Laurie.

  When Roger had come out to Queens from Manhattan earlier that afternoon it had been a little like going home, since the hospital was located in the East Side of Rego Park, which was a stone’s throw away from the section of Forest Hills where he had grown up. Although both of his parents had passed away, he had several aunts and an uncle who still lived close to his boyhood home. As he’d peered out of the taxi window while cruising along Queens Boulevard, he’d even entertained the idea to pass by the old homestead when he was finished with his errand.

  Roger had made significant progress. His meeting with Bruce Martin, who headed up the Manhattan General Hospital’s department of human resources, had been quite fruitful, although not at the outset. When Roger had initially asked straight-out for employee records, Bruce had told him that there were all sorts of federal rules that restricted access to such information. That forced Roger to be creative in his request, by contending that in his role as the chief of the medical staff, he was starting a study about the interaction between the doctors and all the support and custodial staff, particularly in regard to new employees and particularly during the night shift, when the hospital was on, in his words, “cruise control.” Roger assiduously avoided mentioning even a hint of his true goal.

  By the time Roger had left Bruce’s office, he’d been promised a list of all employees at the Manhattan General Hospital and a list of new employees since mid-November, with a particular emphasis on people who worked the eleven-to-seven night shift. There had been a slight worry in Roger’s mind when he had proposed such a seemingly arbitrary commencement date for the new employees that Bruce would have become suspicious in some form or fashion, but Bruce had merely written it down without any reaction. He promised Roger he’d have the list before he left work that very afternoon, and would have it placed on Roger’s desk.

  The second thing Bruce had done was call Rosalyn Leonard, his counterpart at St. Francis Hospital, to tell her that Roger would be coming over and to give her an idea of what Roger needed. At the time, Roger didn’t appreciate how helpful that had been. Had Roger walked in off the street with his requests, which was his initial plan, he wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with Rosalyn. There was no doubt in Roger’s mind that she would have been dismissive and unhelpful. Thanks to Bruce’s call, she had already done some of the preliminary work before Roger arrived. It turned out that getting the kind of lists Roger wanted required accessing a number of different sources. Roger had been surprised that the various departments in AmeriCare hospitals more or less functioned as individual fiefdoms within the constraints of their centrally dictated budgets.

  The other thing Roger had accomplished before leaving the Manhattan General was to get Caroline started on amassing the professional staff list, with particular interest in tho
se physicians who had admitting privileges for both the Manhattan General and St. Francis. Roger had taken the time to see if that information was generally available by calling up a few individual doctor’s records. Unfortunately, it was spotty. Caroline had promised him she would do what she could, as it wasn’t specifically coded. She had said that she was hopeful, since she was personally friendly with one of the computer whizzes employed by the hospital, who could often figure out how to do the impossible.

  “Well, there you have it,” Rosalyn said, pushing a final, thin stack of papers in Roger’s direction across the library table’s varnished surface. She patted the top with the palm of her hand. “Here’s a complete list of all Saint Francis employees as of mid-November, with a notation of those working the night shift; a list of St. Francis employees who either quit or were terminated between mid-November and mid-January; a list of our full-time professional staff, also as of mid-November; and finally, a list of our professional staff with admitting privileges. Is that all you want for your study? What about new employees since mid-November?”

  “No need,” Roger said. “I think this should do it for what I have in mind.” He glanced through the pages containing all the hospital employees as of mid-November and shook his head in amazement. “I had no idea so many people were required to run an American hospital.” He wanted to divert the conversation away from his putative study. As sharp as Rosalyn was, he guessed she’d see through his ruse rather quickly if he was forced to say too much.

  “Like all AmeriCare hospitals, we’re actually on the lower slope of the bell curve,” Rosalyn said. “As with all managed-care organizations, one of the first things AmeriCare does when it takes over a hospital is reduce the personnel in most every department. I should know, since the unenviable task fell to me. I was responsible for a sizable number of pink slips.”

  “That must have been difficult,” Roger offered in an unconsciously preoccupied tone. He put the full list aside and glanced at the list of the employees that had left St. Francis. Even that was much longer than he had anticipated. It also wasn’t as detailed as he had hoped, particularly in respect to which particular shift individual employees worked, whether they were terminated or left on their own accord, and where they went. “I’m surprised there is as much turnover as this. Is this representative?”

  “Generally speaking, yes, but it might be slightly on the high side, because the period you are interested in encompasses the holidays. If people are thinking of moving to a new job, and want to take a little time off in between, the holidays are a popular and predictable time.”

  “And it seems like it’s mostly nurses.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s the reality. There’s a serious nursing shortage, which puts them in the driver’s seat. We’re constantly recruiting nurses, and other hospitals are recruiting ours like a tug-of-war. We’re even being reduced to seeking prospective candidates abroad.”

  “Really?” Roger questioned. He knew the United States drained doctors from developing countries who came to America, presumably to train, but then stayed, but he wasn’t aware that nurses were being recruited as well. Considering the health needs of the developing world, it seemed ethically questionable at best. “The list doesn’t say where the individuals went.”

  Rosalyn shook her head. “That information isn’t put into the main employee data bank. It might be in the individual record if the individual requested a recommendation be sent to another institution or if an inquiry came in from another institution. But we have to be very chary with those records, as you well know. There’s always the threat of litigation unless the individual authorizes access. ”

  Roger nodded. “What if I end up with questions about individual people for my study? I mean, questions about their records in regard to their general performance while at Saint Francis, like whether they got along with their coworkers or whether there was any disciplinary action taken for any reason.”

  “That will be difficult,” Rosalyn said, nodding as if agreeing with herself. “Is this study of yours an in-house study, or is it something you’re thinking of publishing?”

  “Oh, it’s definitely in-house with limited access, except at the highest administrative level. It’s definitely not meant for publication.”

  “If that’s the case, I can probably help you, but I’d need to run it by our president and general counsel. Do you want me to do that Monday? That would be the first chance I’d have.”

  “No, not really,” Roger said quickly. The last thing he wanted was for the two presidents to have a chat about his so-called study. “Hold off until I see if I need any more personal information on any of these people. I probably won’t.”

  “Just give me twenty-four hours’ notice if you do.”

  Roger nodded and was eager to change the subject. He cleared his throat and finally got around to ask the key question on his mind. “Which, if any, of these employees who left Saint Francis came to the Manhattan General, meaning they stayed within the AmeriCare family? Is that information readily available?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. As you know, AmeriCare operates its hospitals as individual entities. The only economies of scale relate to price and origin of basic supplies. If a Saint Francis employee leaves and goes to Manhattan General, for us it’s no different than if they went to a non-AmeriCare hospital.”

  Roger nodded again. What he was realizing was that he was facing some serious collating time when he got back to his office. The chance that he’d have something to take over to Laurie’s apartment that evening as an excuse to get together with her was looking slim. He lifted his wrist and glanced at his watch. It was a quarter to seven. The window behind Rosalyn was completely dark. Night had long since fallen.

  “I’m afraid I’ve kept you here an unreasonably long time,” Roger said. He smiled warmly. “I’m very appreciative of your help, but I’m afraid I’m feeling particularly guilty since it is Friday night, and I’m sure I have kept you from something much more entertaining and enjoyable.”

  “It has been my pleasure to help, Dr. Rousseau. Bruce was very flattering about you when he called. I understand you were with Médecins San Frontières.”

  “I’m afraid so,” Roger said modestly. “But please call me Roger.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Rosalyn said and then laughed at herself. “I mean, thank you, Roger.”

  “There’s no reason to thank me. It is I who should be thanking you.”

  “I’ve read about the work that Médecins Sans Frontières does around the globe. I’m very impressed.”

  “There is a great need in the world for even the most basic healthcare in the trouble spots of the world.” Roger was pleased that the conversation had taken such a personal turn.

  “I’m sure. Where did you go during your service?”

  “South Pacific, the Far East, and finally Africa. A mixture of impenetrable jungle and arid desert.” Roger smiled. He had this story down pat, and just like it had with Laurie, it usually had an auspicious social outcome.

  “It sounds like a movie. What made you leave Médecins Sans Frontières, and what brought you to New York?”

  Roger’s smile broadened. He took a deep breath before closing in on the pièce de résistance of his come-on. “The eventual realization I wasn’t going to change the world. I’d tried, but it wasn’t going to happen. Then, like a migratory bird, I felt the instinctive need to come back here to nest and start a family. You see, I was born in Brooklyn and grew up in neighboring Forest Hills.”

  “How romantic. Have you found the lucky lady?”

  “Hardly. I’ve been too busy getting myself situated and adjusted to living in the civilized world.”

  “Well, I’m certain you will not have any trouble,” Rosalyn said as she began amassing the papers from which she’d culled the lists she’d given to Roger. “I bet you have some fascinating stories to tell about your travels.”

  “Indeed!” Roger responded happily. He was relieved. He
knew he’d piqued her interest. “I’ll be happy to share a few of the less harrowing, if you’d allow me to buy you dinner. It’s the least I can do after having kept you here for so long. That is, of course, if you are free. Would you allow me the honor?”

  Somewhat flustered, Rosalyn shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “Then it’s a deal,” Roger said. He stood up and stretched his legs. “There’s an Italian restaurant here in Rego Park that’s been a fixture since the fifties as a hangout for the local mafioso. The food was great the last time I was there eons ago, and not a bad wine list, either. Are you game to see if it still exists?”

  Rosalyn shrugged again. “It sounds intriguing, but I can’t be out late.”

  “Me neither. Heck, I’m going back to the office tonight.”

  Jasmine Rakoczi!” a voice called.

  Jazz stopped her repetitions on one of her favorite exercises. She was lying prone working her hamstrings and buttocks. Turning her head to the side, she could see that someone was standing next to the machine she was using. Surprisingly enough, the feet and legs were female, not male. Jazz took her earphones out, then twisted around to look up into the face of the individual. She couldn’t see much, because the face was backlit from the fluorescent ceiling lights.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” said the almost featureless face.

  Jazz could not believe someone was harassing her in the middle of her routine, and it was more irritation than anything else that got her to extract her legs from the machine and sit up. She found herself confronted by one of the women who manned the front desk. She’d seen her earlier when she’d signed in.

  “What’s the damn problem?” Jazz demanded. She wiped her forehead with her towel.

  “There are a couple of gentlemen out in the lobby,” the woman said. “They said they needed to see you right away, but Mr. Horner wouldn’t let them come back here.”

  A slight but distinctly uncomfortable shiver descended Jazz’s spine. Mr. Bob and Mr. Dave’s unexpected visit the evening before flashed into her mind. Something must be up. It wasn’t like Mr. Bob to approach her in such a public place.