Flashback

by Michael Palmer

  She led him to the couch and laid his head on her lap. "You've got to face it, Zack, " she whispered, stroking his forehead. "No matter how much you want to take off, no matter how much you're hurting, you've got to gp back into that hospital, pick up the pieces, and get on with business. There's too much at stake not to. Way too much."

  "Way too much, " he murmured. Slowly, his eyes closed. His breathing grew deeper and more regular. In seconds, he was out. "Please, Zachary, " she urged softly. "Please don't run."

  She lowered his head onto a pillow, brought his clock radio in from the bedroom, and set it for nine. A call to the O. R. would delay or postpone anything he had scheduled, and one to his office nurse would buy him time there as well. The next move would be up to him. She was gathering her things when she spied a copy of one of her favorite pieces of medical writing, Davenport's classic treatise on the principles and art of clinical medicine. The slim monograph was wedged on the bookshelf between several huge surgical tomes. She opened it to a passage that she had read enough over the years to know nearly by heart, marked the page for Zack, and then slipped out the front door into the cool, hazy July morning. Provided Toby Nelms was reasonably stable, there was still time to have a cup of coffee with Helene, to get Jennifer dressed and off to day camp, and to shower, before making rounds. She was nearing twenty four hours without sleep, but as she so often told her anxious patients, nobody ever died from lack of sleep. "Hello, Whitey?… Frank Iverson here. I'm glad I found you in. I know you're due to open in a bit, so I won't keep you… Yes, well, I guess everyone in Sterling knows about it by now. Goddamn Beau Robillard. Never did a single decent thing his whole life, and now, he can't even die without hurting someone… The Judge is doing okay, itey. John Burris, the neurosurgeon who operated on him, is sending him down to Concord early this afternoon by ambulance … Well, I'm afraid you heard right. As things stand, he's paralyzed from the waist down. But Burris isn't making any predictions, and we're all hopeful as hell this is just a temporary condition. The Judge is tough, as we both well know. If anyone can beat this thing, he can…

  Say, Whitey, actually there're two reasons I'm calling. First was to touch base with you about the Judge, and second was to tell you that I spoke to Sis Ryder in dietary about next month's meat order.

  She's agreed to try allowing your place to handle the whole thing rather than going through the Ultramed purchasing office. Just to see how it all works out… Oh, you're welcome. You deserve the chance. Oh, listen, there is one other thing. Needless to say, the Judge is in no shape to make that meeting this morning… No, I'm afraid there's no way to delay the meeting. The contract calls for the sale to be finalized at noon unless there's a buy back vote by the board. I did speak briefly with him a few minutes ago, and he seemed content just to let each board member vote his conscience on this thing, and let the chips fall where they may. But Whitey, since you'll be running the meeting, there's one big favor you can do for me. I'd really appreciate it if that vote later this morning could be by closed ballot… I know that's not how you usually do it, but don't you think that would be the fairest way? Do this for me, Whitey, and I promise you that dietary contract will be just the beginning… Excellent, excellent. Hey, then, I'll see you at the meeting. And Whitey, thanks."

  Frank replaced the receiver in its cradle, sipped his morning coffee, and then drew a careful line through Whitey Bourque's name on the block-printed list of business he had to attend to that morning. Before becoming administrator of Ultramed-Davis, Frank had never in his life made a list of things to do. Lists were for morning people, for grinds and drudges, for catchers and linebackers, not for quarterbacks. They were for draught horses, needing to know in advance precisely where they would be clopping to and when, not for thoroughbreds. However, four years of exposure to the efficiency and effectiveness of Ultr'nia's data banks, plus the pressures of juggling a dozen or more difficult situations at once, had changed him. Now, he began each day with a carefully drawn-up menu. Frank liked to look on his emergence as a list-maker as one of the more visible manifestations of his adaptability and maturity. And of all the lists he had ever made, the one for this morning was easily the most exciting. He scanned the roster of members of the board to assure himself that everything was in order for the meeting. It had taken a hell of an effort, but with the Judge's influence virtually neutralized, he had used the promise of a closed-ballot vote, plus certain other inducements, to capture the additional members he had needed to block the buy back. The votes-six in all-had not come cheaply, but he had done what he had to do. The sudden turn of events had him giddy. The whole thing was unbelievable-absolutely incredible, Zack teetering on the edge of oblivion at Davis, waiting only for the smallest nudge, the Judge eliminated from attending the decisive board meeting. He couldn't have scripted it better if he had tried. With Mainwaring due back from Georgia any time, everything had fallen into place everything, that is, but one minor exception. After brief thought, Frank took a black magic marker from his drawer and eliminated Call Lisette from his list. "Fuck her, " he muttered. The woman deserved neither the call nor the apology he had considered making. In fact, if there were to be any apologies, they would come from her. She would see the truth on her own-come to understand what she had pushed him to do-or she would lose out. The house, the car, even the children. She would lose out big. He had more than enough friends in high places to ensure that she paid for her desertion. This was simply not the day for dealing with a whiny, passive bitch like Lisette. This was a day of triumph. If she didn't choose to be available to share it with him, that was her problem. He took his list and carefully added, Check with A. D. re, tonight. Perfect, he thought. Annette Dolan was the ideal choice to help celebrate the remarkable turn of events. He keyed the intercom. Moments later, Annette knocked softly and slipped into his office. She was wearing a tight plaid skirt and a beige, short-sleeved angora sweater that seemed to be straining to cover her breasts. "G'morning, " he said. "Morning, yourself."

  She stood primly beside his desk, her hands folded in front of her skirt, her arms pulled tightly downward, lifting her breasts together in a way that made them look even more spectacular. "I… um… I have some Xeroxing I need done, " Frank managed. He passed some papers across to her. "Twenty copies. No, make that thirty. You ah… that's a great sweater."

  "Thanks."

  "Do you think you might be able to wear it to work tonight? Say at eight?"

  "Oh, Frank, I don't know. My mom's not feeling too well."

  "I'm sorry to hear that…"

  He hesitated, and then reached into his desk and brought out the iamond necklace he had planned to give Lisette for her birthday, "… because I was kind of hoping you'd wear this at the same time."

  Annette's eyes widened. "Oh, Frankie, it's beautiful, " she said. "It's the most beautiful necklace I've ever seen. You're so good to me."

  "That's because you're so good to me, About tonight? She ran her fingers over the piece. "How could I say no?"

  "I don't know… How could you? " He pulled her to him and kissed her, sliding his hand over her skirt and then up to her breast. "Annette, honey, I don't want to wait until tonight. Just a little, Right here.

  Right now."

  "Fraank, please, " she said. "You've got to wait. I have work to do, and all that Xeroxing, and that door isn't locked. And besides, he might hear us."

  "Who might hear us?"

  "Why, your brother, of course. Didn't I… T' She held her hand to her mouth and looked at him sheepishly. "Oh my. I was about to tell you.

  Frank's expression darkened. "How long has he been out there?"

  "Just a few minutes. I'm sorry, Frank."

  "Hey, no need to apologize, " he said, giving her breast a squeeze,

  "Just wear that sweater tonight… and your necklace. Okay?"

  "S-Sure."

  "Perfect. Tell my brother I know he's here, and I'll be with him shortly."

  "Okay. I'm sorry."

  "Actua
lly, now that I think about it, he couldn't have come at a better time."

  The receptionist brightened noticeably. "Really?"

  "Really," Frank said. "This will be the icing on the cake." He patted her behind as she turned to leave, and followed it with his eyes as she sashayed from his office. Then he added another item to his list in the same, perfect block print as all the others, Fire He paused, studying the notation thoughtfully, and then drew a small happy face next to it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  "Dr. Iverson, Mr. Iverson said to tell you that he knows you're here and will be with you as soon as he can. Are you sure I can't get you something?"

  "No, no, thank you."

  Zack managed to prevent himself, at the last possible instant, from augmenting his response with a shake of his head. Actually, the tympani that had been rehearsing in his brain had given way to the French horn section, and the tempest in his stomach had been downgraded to mere queasiness. Physically, it appeared, he was on the mend. With a little assistance from Cheap dog, he had awakened well before the time set on his clock radio by Suzanne. On the coffee table beside him was a glass of water, a packet of Bromo Seltzer, aild his old copy of Davenport, held open by his stethoscope and marked with a note from Suzanne which said, simply, Be strong. Now, as he waited for his brother to decide that he had been kept waiting long enough, Zack withdrew the monograph from his briefcase and reread the passage. Be diligent. Be meticulous.

  Be honest. Account for every variable. Acknowledge that which you do not know, and then, at the first opportunity, learn it. Believe in yourself.

  That is our system. Honor it, and it will support you like a rock. Honor it, and even the death of a patient will be no failure. Zack had been especially grateful for those words when he'd lived at the hospital that morning and been informed by his father's private duty nurse that except for his wife, the Judge was seeing no visitors, and that he had specifically included his sons in that group. Even Annie Doucette, facing surgery on her hip in twenty-four hours, was less than cordial to him. After being barred by the Judge's nurse, Zack had gone directly to her room, hoping-naively, it turned out-to be the first to tell her of what had happened. "I am not pleased with you, young man, " she had said. "You save an old lady like me, who wants to die, and then let something like this happen to a man like your father. What kind of doctor is that?"

  Zack had started to respond, but then had simply shrugged and left.

  Another time, perhaps. Nor was the hospital staff any more amiable.

  Wherever he went, eyes were averted, greetings of any kind were mumbled or withheld altogether. Nurses and other physicians hurried in the opposite direction as he approached. He had decided to stick things out at Davis, but reestablishing himself was clearly going to be an uphill struggle. Be strong… Be strong… Be'annette, " Frank's voice crackled over the intercom, "would you please ask Dr. Iverson to come on in? And hold all calls-unless they're regarding our father's condition.

  Thank you."

  Zack walked into his brother's office, wishing he were anyplace else.

  "Have a seat, Bro, " Frank said. "I was wondering when you were going to show up here again. Where've you been?"

  "Oh, here and there. Mostly on the floor or on the toilet." know."

  Zack looked at him curiously. "John Burris told me," Frank explained.

  "Apparently he called to give you a progress report on the Judge. He says you were obviously intoxicated and totally incoherent."

  "Aw, he was just being kind."

  "Zack, this isn't funny. Burris said something about it to one nurse, and already the whole hospital knows. Once they're lost, reputations around hospitals don't get found again very often. Ask Guy Beaulieu."

  "Now who's being funny, Frank?"

  "You know what I meant."

  "Well, one of the reasons I stopped by was to tell you that I was sorry for causing so much disruption around this place. I see now that I've got to back off a little if I'm going to get by here, even though I've only been doing what I thought was right."

  "Have you?"

  "Dammit, Frank, you're an excellent administrator, but that doesn't mean you're on top of everything that's going on around here."

  "For instance?"

  "For instance, that sleazy anesthesiologist, Pearl, and his sidekick, Mainwaring. They're up to something, Frank. They're using something other than what they say they are in the operating room. I swear it."

  "That's ridiculous."

  "I have proof."

  "Do you?"

  "Well, not exactly. But I have some data about recovery times that are pretty damn suggestive. And I've learned some things about Mainwaring's past that even you might not be aware of. I'm telling you, there's a connection between that poor Nelms kid's seizures and whatever the two of them have been giving patients in the O. R. Frank, this hospital could be headed for terrible trouble. We've got to find out what's going on."

  "No, we don't, Zack-o, " Frank said simply. "What are you talking about? "

  "Well, first of all, we're not going to find out because there's nothing to find out. Those two men worked here for two years before you arrived, and there was not so much as a whisper of anything but praise for either of them. How do you explain that?"

  "I… I can't really. At least not yet. But I'm right, Frank. I just know I am. Mainwaring's got a past that involves testing drugs illegally, and Pearl's hiding something. Couldn't you tell that from the way he behaved last night? He's so frightened of being found out that he was willing to put that kid to sleep with anesthe ics he had never used on him in the first place. Something's going on, and dammit, I'm going to find out what."

  "No, you're not, " Frank said again.

  "You're not going to find out because you're not going to be stirring up any more trouble around here. And you're not going to be stirring up trouble because you're through… finished… fired. You're done at this hospital as of right now."

  Zack stared at him in disbelief Frank looked back at him, smiling placidly, "Frank, that's crazy. I'm a physician on the staff. You can't fire me. Only the medical staff can do that, and then only after due process."

  "Oh, really? Here, Doctor. Here are the corporate bylaws. You don't work for the medical staff. It's on page seven. Check it out. You work for Ultramed. And Ultramed can fire anyone they goddamn well please. And I'm Ultramed, and you're fired."

  He held his hands out palms up. "Cest tout, mon fr amp;e. Be strong. … Suzanne's encouragement was growing hollower by the moment.

  "Frank, you can't do this."

  "I can, and I did. You see, Bro, that's been your big mistake all along-not understanding that this is my hospital and that I can do Whatever the hell I want to. I wanted Beaulieu out, and he was out. And now I want you out."

  "Frank, you forget that even though you might not have wanted eaulieu here, you didn't fire him. He was being systematically and deliberately driven out by-"

  "By who?"

  Zack hesitated, remembering his promise to Maureen Banas. Then he decided that she would simply have to understand. His situation was too desperate. "It was Ultramed, Frank. He was being driven out by Ultramed.

  Just look at that letter from Maureen Banas. That's proof you don't know everything that's going on around here. Do you think she wrote that of her own free will? She was coerced, Frank, by that company we work for.

  By Ultramed."

  "Was she?"

  "Yes, she received a copy of that letter along with a note that-"

  "That said if she told me about receiving it, both she and I would be fired?

  " Frank's gloating leer was at once disgusting and terrifying. "Jesus,"

  Zack muttered. "Nice touch, don't you think?"

  "Oh, Frank. You are really sad. Why didn't you just fire him like you're trying to do to me?"

  "He was an obstreperous sonofabitch, that's why. I didn't want him making a big stink. I was just learning the ropes then, Zack-o, learning ho
w far I could go. I know them now, and they tell me that it's okay to fire you, so… you're fired.

  God, I really love hearing that."

  "You're crazy, Frank. Do you know that? You are absolutely nuts."

  "Maybe, " Frank said. "But I am also employed. Which is more than can be said for you."

  "I'm going to fight you."

  Frank shrugged. "Do whatever you want. As far as the company or the medical staff is concerned, you're a drunken, disloyal troublemaker. I doubt that even your little cardiology fluff will stick up for you."

  "Frank, Guy Beaulieu died because of what you did to him. Died! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

  "You have a good day, now, Zack."

  "And don't you even care that it's possible some madmen are poisoning patients in the operating room of this hospital? What are you?"

  "I'll be speaking with the folks at Pine Bough Realty. I'm sure they'll be more than happy to give you, oh, two or three days at least to get out of their house."

  "Jesus. I'm coming to that board meeting, Frank. I'm coming, and I'm going to tell the board and Ultramed what's going on here. The Judge may be paralyzed, but he saw what Ultramed and its policies did to Annie.

  He's had time to review Beaulieu's evidence and to convince people how to vote. I'm going to be there to reinforce his position."

  "Well, I spoke with him earlier this morning, and he's promised to keep hands off the whole affair."

  "Frank, that's a fucking lie. I was just up there. The nurse told me the Judge won't see either of us."

  Frank winked. "Then let's just say that if he had spoken with me, that's what he would have promised."

  "You crazy bastard, Frank… You crazy, crazy bastard."

  "I'll be happy to write you a letter of recommendation, provided the place you apply to is far enough away. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a hospital to run."

  "I'll be seeing you later at the meeting."

  "Try it if you want to, Zack-o.